After Jesse got out of the hospital, he went back to the old neighborhood.
Back to delivering food. Back to living alone.
I'd run into him on the street sometimes.
He'd still be in his delivery jacket, passing by on his bike. When he saw me, he'd give a quick honk. His version of hello.
Then he'd keep riding. I'd give a small nod and keep going.
That was how we lived, side by side without a word, for many years.
The kids at the restaurant came and went in waves.
Some got into college and left. Some stayed on to help. Some went out and opened their own places.
Every Christmas, someone would come back to see me. They'd bring things from wherever they were living and tell me about their lives.
Sometimes I felt like Clara was still here.
Right here in this restaurant, watching i
