At another table, a businessman frowned and looked away. The old man tried once more. His hand shook harder now, whether from the effort or the shame, Amara couldn’t tell. The piece of chicken fell from his fork. He set the utensil down and stared at his plate.
Amara’s chest tightened. She thought of her mother in those final weeks, how her hands had trembled just like this, how she’d cried the first time she couldn’t hold a spoon. She walked back to table 12. "“Sir, would you mind if I helped you?”" He looked up, startled. "Oh, no.
I don’t want to. “I’m sorry.” I shouldn't have." "“It’s no trouble at all.”" She pulled out the chair beside him and sat down. She picked up his fork, cut a small piece of chicken, and held it toward him. For a moment, he just stared at her. Then slowly, he leaned forward and took the bite.
"How is it?" she asked softly. "“It’s very good.”" She cut another piece. "“Have you been here before?”" "“A long time ago, with my wife. She passed away five years ago.”" "“I’m sorry.”" "“It was her favorite place.”" He took another bite. "“I wanted to...
I don’t know, remember.”" Amara continued feeding him, cutting the chicken into small pieces, spearing vegetables, offering each bite with care. She talked to him about small things, the weather, the piano music, the flowers on the table. He answered quietly, his embarrassment gradually fading. She didn’t notice the other tables watching. She didn’t see the diamond woman pull out her phone to record.
She didn’t hear the businessman mutter to the waiter. She only saw the old man's face relax, saw him smile for the first time that evening. "You’re very kind." he said softly. "“My daughter, she can’t visit much anymore. Lives far away.
Busy with her own family. I forget sometimes what it’s like when someone has patience.” “Everyone deserves patience.”" She finished helping him eat, wiped his mouth gently with a napkin, and poured him more water. He thanked her three times before she stood up. As she turned away from the table, she nearly walked into Marcus. His face was red.
"“My office. Now.”" Her stomach dropped. "I was just now." She followed him through the dining room. She could feel the other guests watching. The diamond woman was still holding her phone.
The businessman smirked. Marcus closed the office door behind them. "“What the hell were you thinking?”" "“He needed help. He couldn’t...” “This is a five-star restaurant, not a nursing home.”" Marcus’ss voice was sharp. "Do you know what you just did out there?