The waitress, whose name tag I now noticed said “Tina,” took a breath like she was holding something in for years. Her jaw twitched slightly, as if she were working up the courage to speak.
“I’m sorry for what happened inside,” she said. “That wasn’t right.”
“It’s not,” she said quickly, her voice starting to shake. “But that’s not why I came out here. I… I need to ask you something. Is he… is the boy your biological grandson?”
I froze. Her question came out of nowhere and yet felt strangely pointed, like she already knew the answer but needed confirmation.
She saw my hesitation.
I swallowed hard, feeling a lump catch in my throat. “No. My daughter adopted him five years ago. She and her husband… they passed away last year. I’ve been raising him since.”
Her eyes filled instantly. She reached for the edge of her apron like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
“His birthday. Is it September 11th?”
I felt my knees weaken. “Yes,” I whispered.
She broke and covered her mouth with her hand as tears slipped down her cheeks.
I didn’t know what to say. My heart felt like it was splitting in two.
She wiped her face, her voice trembling. “I’m not asking for anything. I just… I saw him. I felt something. And when he pointed out that mark… it’s the exact one. I just had to know.”
I nodded slowly. “Ben needs love. And consistency. If you want to be in his life, we can figure that out. But only if you’re sure.”
She nodded quickly, wiping her eyes. “Can I at least invite you back in? Let me make it right.”
I looked over at Ben, who was busy poking at a leaf with his shoe.
“Let’s go inside, then.”
When we walked in, a few customers looked up with the same judgmental eyes.
Silence shrouded the place.
Ben beamed and his little shoulders relaxed. He reached for my hand and squeezed.
Continue reading…
