“Aren't you supposed to be in school, William?” the owner asked, pulling a pad and
pen from his apron pocket.
William shot him a worried look.
Manny let out a loud laugh. “Don't worry, William, I won't tell your grandmother.”
William’s expression changed to relief.
“Now, you want to sit at a table or a booth?”
William hesitated, his thoughts drifting to the last time he came here with his
family. They always sat at a table. He’d often wished they could fit in a booth.
The red leather looked far more comfortable than the stiff-backed chairs. Weeks
later, his grandfather passed away, and they finally could fit the family in a
booth.
He turned to Casey. “Which would you prefer?”
Manny waited for her response.
“I think a booth will be fine. Thank you.”
The diner owner shook his head and guided them to the furthest booth from the
entrance. William let Casey sit down first, then took the seat across from her.
Manny placed the menus on the table.
“Do you want to start off with a drink? Or do you want to look at the menu for a
few minutes?” he asked.
“I'll have a Coke,” William responded immediately.
“I'll just have a water, please,” Casey added.
Manny left them to browse the menus, but Casey didn’t open hers. William could feel
her staring at him. He looked around the empty restaurant and saw Manny back behind
the counter, fixing their drinks.
“I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather,” Casey said as William turned back