The whole room had gone silent. Richard shifted in his chair. “Mother, this is not the time,” he muttered. She folded her napkin with trembling fingers. “I stammered until I was thirty, Richard,” she said. “You were nine when you started pretending you did not know me. You walked ten paces ahead of me at every school gate, so no one would hear me ask for the time.”

Richard’s wife stared at him with her mouth open. The other couple looked at the tablecloth. Danny stood frozen beside the table, holding the dropped fork. The old woman turned to him and smiled warmly. “Young man,” she said, “would you tell me the specials?” Danny’s chin trembled. He took a long breath, and the whole restaurant watched.