Minutes later, the restaurant’s phone rang. My in-laws picked up, only to hear the manager’s calm, professional voice:
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Langford. I’m calling from Lucca’s. It seems there’s been an oversight with tonight’s bill. If the matter isn’t resolved immediately, I’m afraid we’ll need to involve the authorities.”
Within fifteen minutes, my in-laws were back in the restaurant — red-faced, muttering apologies, and clutching their wallets that had suddenly reappeared. They paid the full amount without another word.
My mom, meanwhile, enjoyed her tiramisu in peace, thanked the staff for their kindness, and left with her head held high.
The Morning After
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