Chapter 4: Flowers for the Lunch Crowd

Room 2 had a narrow bed, a desk by the window, and a view of the courthouse steps.

I unpacked my one bag in four minutes.

It held two sweaters, my teaching planner from my last year at school, and a tin of yellow index cards.

I sat on the bed with the tin in my lap and did not open it.

For two days I hardly left the room.

I slept ten hours a night, ate what Seth put in front of me, and learned the sounds of the diner coming up through the floor.

Stuart did not call.

On Thursday at noon, I came downstairs to help Dot with the lunch rush, because I could not stand sitting in the room.

The diner was packed.

I was refilling the ketchup bottles at the counter when the door opened and the little bell rang.

Stuart stood in the doorway with a bouquet of red roses in cellophane.

He wore the good navy jacket, and he had shaved.

The whole room turned to look at him, because he is the man from the book jacket, and this is a small town.

Somebody at the counter whispered, "That's the author."

Stuart smiled the smile he uses on interviewers.

"Elise," he said, loud enough for everyone. "There you are."

I set the ketchup bottle down.

"Stuart, this isn't the place."

"It's exactly the place." He stepped forward and held out the roses. "I've been an idiot, and I want everyone to hear me say it."

Dot came out of the kitchen drying her hands on her apron.

"Table's by the window," she told him. "Wait there till I'm free, and no shouting."

"I'm not here to shout. I'm here to take my wife home."

"Then you can wait," Dot said, and pointed.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Never Looked Up at Breakfast, So I Served Him Papers from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.