I was about to leave when someone called out.
“Excuse me, sir. Wait.”
A young waitress approached from the kitchen.
She had dark hair and wore a black apron that seemed slightly too large for her.
Her name tag read AMBER.
She looked at my face rather than my clothes.
“Are you hungry?” she asked gently.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Come with me.”
Madison immediately objected.
“Amber, those tables are reserved.”
“Which one?” Amber asked. “Can you show me the reservation?”
Madison said nothing.
Amber guided me to a small table beside the front window.
“Would you like some soup?”
“Please.”
“Our chicken and dumplings are wonderful. It’s the owner’s mother’s recipe.”
I almost smiled.
“I’d like that.”
A few minutes later, Amber returned with a steaming bowl of soup, warm bread, coffee, and ice water.
She arranged everything neatly in front of me.
The same way she would serve any valued customer.
