Chapter 24: The Last Chair

At nine the dishes were cleared, the soup pot was empty, and the empty chair was still empty.

Nan had stopped looking at it.

Elias had not, and he had not said a word about it either.

The bell over the door rang once.

Preston stood on the mat in a plain dark coat, with rain on the shoulders.

He looked thinner, and cleaner, and tired.

In both hands he held something flat, wrapped in brown paper.

The whole table went quiet.

"I'm late," he said. "I know. I'll go."

I looked at the chair at the end of the table.

I looked at him.

"There's a seat," I said.

He did not move.

"If you want it."

"I didn't come to eat."

"Then come to sit."

He crossed the dining room slowly, between the tables, and the head waiter pulled out the chair for him without being asked.

Preston sat on the very edge of it.

Nan put a bowl of soup in front of him with a hard clack, and said, "Eat it."

He ate it.

He ate all of it, with his head down, and nobody spoke until the bowl was empty.

"It's good," he said, and his voice cracked. "It's really good, Lyd."

"It's his."

"I know."

He put the brown paper package on the table and pushed it toward me with two fingers.

"It's not a peace offering," Preston said. "I know you don't need one."

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