Jenna cried first.
Then me.
Then several teachers.
Linda denied crying despite visible evidence.
Caleb just stared.
Finally he asked Walter, “Why a table?”
Walter’s answer stayed with me.
“Because tables are where people stop being strangers.”
The café opened six months later.
On the first Saturday, more than three hundred people came through the doors.
Some donated.
Some ate.
Some volunteered.
Some did all three.
Sophie arrived wearing the red dress.
By then it was too small.
The hem sat above her knees.
Jenna had begged her to wear something else.
Sophie had strongly disagreed.
So the red dress came.
Caleb was eight now.
He stood near the entrance wearing an apron Walter had bought him.
His official job was supposed to be greeting visitors.
His actual work mostly involved stealing French fries.
Walter sat in his old corner booth.
He watched families move through the dining room.
