Chapter 23: Friday Special

On Friday morning at six, Gus Thayer cut the padlock off Marrin's Diner himself.

The lawyer held the bolt cutters steady, and Gus put his good hand over the lawyer's and squeezed.

The padlock dropped on the gravel with its Thayer Security sticker facing up.

Caleb picked it up and threw it in the dumpster.

"Good," said Gus.

My mother stood on the pavement with a blanket around her shoulders.

She wore a surgical mask with cats printed on it, which the nurse had found for her.

It had been twelve days since the surgery.

The doctors had let her out on a leash, she said, and the leash was me.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked her. "Twelve days."

"I have been cooped up with a Jell-O cup and a catheter. I'm going in."

She went up the front step on Caleb's arm and my own.

The bell over the door rang, and the diner smelled of dust and cold grease and a long time.

My father's apron hung on the same hook by the kitchen.

My mother crossed the floor on her own two feet, took it down and held it against her chest.

Nobody said anything.

Then she turned and put it into Caleb's hands.

"Frank's," she said. "You're the cook."

"Donna."

"Don't argue with a woman who has a new kidney. Put it on."

He tied it on over his gray shirt, and it was too short in the arms, and he stood there in my father's apron with his eyes bright.

"Light the grill," my mother said. "It's been cold three years."

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