Rose
Our reunion was cut short by the hostess Yvonne yelling at Heather that her break was over and she needed to get back to work. I reminded her about my steak before she skittered off to wait on other tables. She brought my steak, which was grilled to perfection, along with a baked potato and a heap of coleslaw. I scraped aside the vegetables and went to work on the meat. Boris watched me eat in fascination. “Is that normal?” he asked as I devoured every last bite of the enormous cut of meat.
I daintily wiped my face on a paper napkin. “Damned if I know,” I said with a shrug, “but I crave meat, and hardly tolerate anything else.”
Heather came back with the bill, and looked back and forth between me and Boris hopefully. I wrote my new phone number on a napkin and passed it to h
