A Waiter Was Fired for Giving His Own Dinner to a Soaked Old Man — Then the Stranger Pulled Out a Black Phone and Said, “Bring the Team”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN B: THE EMPTY CORNER BOOTH

Warren invited Beth to dinner at the diner on a night when the highway was unusually quiet.
He closed the kitchen early and prepared two plates himself.
Beth arrived wearing the yellow coat and carrying a grocery bag.
“I brought dessert,” she said.
Warren looked at the bag.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
She set it on the counter and took the corner booth beneath the television.
Warren brought the plates to the table.
They ate in silence for several minutes.
Then Beth asked whether he had spoken to the workers whose belongings had been found behind the freezer.

“The deputy said the investigators would contact them,” Warren answered.
“That’s not what I asked.”
Warren set down his fork.
“I don’t know how to find them.”
“You could ask Simone whether there’s a way to apologize without making them listen to you.”
Warren stared at his plate.
“Would that help?”
“I don’t know,” Beth replied.
“It might help you stop pretending the only person you hurt was Jake.”
Warren looked toward the register.
“I thought if I got Jake back, everything would feel normal again.”
“He doesn’t want his old job.”
“I know.”
Beth cut a piece of chicken.

“Then you need to learn how to run this place without treating every employee like a problem.”
Warren sighed.
“I hired a new waitress yesterday.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lena.”
“Does she have a schedule she can depend on?”
Warren hesitated.
“I told her we’d see how busy the weekend gets.”
Beth put down her fork.
“Warren.”
“What?”
“You can tell her the hours you can pay for before she rearranges her life around them.”
Warren nodded slowly.
“I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Beth looked at the empty diner.
“Do you remember when we were kids and Dad made us take turns washing dishes?”
Warren smiled faintly.

“You always said I left grease on the plates.”
“You did leave grease on the plates.”
“I thought you just wanted me to wash them again.”
“I wanted the plates clean.”
Warren laughed.
Beth smiled for the first time that evening.
Then her expression grew serious.
“I can be your sister without telling you everything you did was acceptable,” she said.
Warren met her eyes.
“I know.”
They finished dinner and washed the plates together.
Beth left the grocery bag on the counter.
Inside was a small apple pie she had made that morning.
Warren cut a slice and put it in the refrigerator for Lena’s first break.