Lynn’s head was somewhat clearer by the time she sat in a window booth at the diner where she told Ryan to meet her. But she still had to ask the waitress to repeat herself three times before Lynn understood she was asking if she’d like some coffee. Lynn got a regular.
All the diners served cappuccinos and lattes these days, but she still remembered the time when the only kind of coffee you could get was the plain watery version in a blue cup from every hot dog stand on any corner, and the occasional Starbucks if you were in the splurging mood. Even that plain old coffee was called Americano now, as though it were some sort of delicacy.
Ryan walked in, some of the humid morning air following him. She’d taken a booth to the side, not clearly visible from the door, but he still had no trou
