My stomach tightened. I had met him briefly years earlier, but I was sure he wouldn’t remember me.
The hostess led them toward my section.
For a moment, I thought about asking another waitress to take the table.
Then I decided not to. I walked over.
“Good evening. My name is Linda.”
“I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”
Mr. Harrison looked up.
His expression changed.
He stared at my face.
Then at my name tag.
And suddenly, he stood up.
The whole table went quiet.
I froze.
For a moment, I wondered whether Robert had said something about me at work.
“Linda?” he asked.
“Yes?”
He looked surprised.
“You’re Robert’s wife?”
Before I could answer, he stepped around the table. The continuation read in the comments‼️👇👇👇
Then he hugged me. The people at the table stared.
I knew the regular customers.
I knew which elderly man had lost his wife and came in every Tuesday because he hated eating alone.
I knew which single mother sometimes ordered only coffee because she was waiting for payday.
I knew which teenagers were nervous before job interviews and which couples were celebrating anniversaries they could barely afford.
I remembered birthdays.
Sometimes I brought someone an extra dessert.
Sometimes listening mattered more than the
