In mid-June, Raber came in to her place of work and was unluckily seated in her section. He was alone and had a fuzzy growth of hair on his head, a small mustache, and had obviously put on weight. His usual eyeliner (Nathan called it guyliner) was present, something he’d stopped wearing towards the end of their relationship, but he was wearing khaki pants and a green polo shirt, which was bizarre compared to what she thought of as his usual attire. As she was looking at him from her waitress station, taking in the oddness of the combination of JCPenney and goth, she noticed her promise ring on a chain around his neck. Fully expecting a scene, Ioni braced herself and went to his table.
“Hi,” she said in her perky waitress voice. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Can I at least get a real greetin
