The lunch rush has started.
Amy zipped between the tables of the crowded diner, a tray balanced effortlessly on one hand.
She delivered a steaming plate of meatloaf to Mr. Henderson, the retired schoolteacher who always insisted on extra gravy.
“Guh. I need this today. Kids in my class are complete brats,” he complained.
“Remember, Mr. H., it’s the digital age,” Amy quipped. “These kids can probably program your TV better than you can.” She laughed as he snorted into his coffee cup, waving a dismissive hand at her while hiding a grin behind his bushy mustache.
“Ah, what do they know?” he grumbled.
The bell above the diner door jingled.
More customers, Amy thought. She was hoping today was a slow day, and she could go home early, but it didn’t seem like it was happening.
“Look who d
