CARMEN
We parked near a diner that looked like it had been there since before I was born. The sort of place with faded red booths, a pie case in the window, and a bell over the door that chimed warmly when we stepped inside.
The smell nearly made me stop in my tracks.
Coffee.
Fried food.
Sugar.
Grease.
Warm bread.
It all hit me at once, the wave of smells flooding me with sudden hunger and a sense of comfort I hadn’t realized I craved.
We were shown to a booth near the back.
Frank automatically sat with his back to the wall, which made me feel safer, though I didn't know why. Ellen sat beside me, and I noticed the way she arranged my napkin and water without asking. Simple gestures for people to do within families, and yet my throat tightened over them.
My mother was the exact s
