"I don't like feeling that I can't take care of my own family," he admitted.
Nora nodded. "My mother was sick when I was young. People helped us, and she didn't like it either. She used to say she could be grateful and still wish she hadn't needed help."
"That sounds like Simone."
"Then tell her I said she has good sense."
Andre actually smiled.
He left with the napkin in his pocket, its edges beginning to soften from being opened and folded so many times.
Nora returned home by bus and found that she was too tired to sleep. She sat at her small kitchen table with a bowl of cereal and wondered how many other families spent entire days in that hospital without anyone asking whether they had eaten.
The following morning, she arrived half an hour before her shift to ask Aisha a question.
"Is there a way we can make meal vouchers easier to use after the social work office closes?"
Aisha looked surprised, then interested. "There are already some emergency provisions. Why?"
Nora told her about Andre and Lila, leaving out anything they had shared privately. She described the long walk from the intensive care waiting area, the cafeteria's early closing time, and the way people sometimes couldn't think about food until the dinner line was gone.
Aisha opened a drawer and showed her a stack of paper vouchers with complicated instructions and an approval signature line.
"These work when a family reaches us in time," she said. "The problem is that a lot of crises don't fit office hours."
Nora studied the forms. "Could we have a small number of authorized vouchers at the cafeteria register, with a simple way for night staff to refer families?"
"Possibly. But somebody would need to account for them, and food service has rules about inventory and funding."
"Then I'll ask about the rules."
Aisha gave her a long look. "You're serious."
"There was an eight-year-old asking strangers to feed her father," Nora said. "I can't get that out of my head."
Bill Stanton was less enthusiastic when she raised the idea over the dishwashing noise.
"We're a hospital cafeteria, Nora, not a charity. Every meal has a cost."
"I know it does. I am not asking the kitchen to give away food without paying for it. I'm asking whether we can arrange for someone else to cover the cost when a family can't manage the process."
Bill set down a clipboard. "And you think the hospital will pay for it?"
"I think we should ask before deciding it can't happen."
"You always have one more question."
"You hired me because I ask if people want coffee before the pot is empty."
"I hired you because your aunt told me you were reliable," he corrected, but the corner of his mouth moved.
He gave her a copy of the cafeteria's catering cost sheet and told her to speak with the patient experience office if she wanted to make a formal proposal. No promises, he said, and no unapproved discounts.