The server at the deli brought their lunch to the table in the corner where they hoped to have privacy. Abby eyed her chicken Caesar salad approvingly. Jack lifted the top of the bun on his burger to add catsup. Satisfied he had the perfect amount, he closed the burger and took a big, juicy bite. His lips glistened from the juice and catsup as he looked across the table at Abby.
“Um, you have a little, uh, stuff,” she said, pointing at her own lips.
“Sorry.” He wiped away the evidence with a napkin.
“Are you opposed to saying grace?”
“Uh, no. Why?” He stopped the burger midway to his mouth.
“Because you never suggest saying grace before we eat. At least, you haven’t so far.”
“I guess it’s not a habit of mine.”
“Then you don’t object to saying grace?”
“No, not at all,” he said, look
