Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
Carter watched from three stools down, his fingers tightening around his gold wedding band. He slowly adjusted the ring, turning it twice around his knuckle while he studied Troy’s face. The young cashier was smiling, but his eyes were darting toward the front door every time the wind rattled the glass pane.
By twelve-thirty, the dining room was packed to the corners with the senior league from the bowling alley. Carter remained on his stool, nursing a cold glass of water and watching the floor.
Over in booth six, an elderly woman with silver hair was trying to navigate her aluminum walker out into the aisle. Her hands were spotted with age, and the tennis balls on the legs of her walker kept catching on the metal seam of the carpet strip.
Megan walked over from the register, her dark ponytail bouncing. She did not snap her chewing gum, and her face was free of its usual tight squint. She reached down and gently guided the frame of the walker past the obstruction.
“Let me help you with that, Mrs. Gable,” Megan said, her voice soft and patient. “We want to make sure you get out to your car safe.”
