I sighed. Edith Jane always told me I was too nice for my own good.
“Here. Let Manny and me help you.” Manny gave me a surprised open-mouthed stare which was wiped away by a grin and shake of his head. He knew the ramifications of what I’d just done. “Why don’t you go find us some seats, John? What do you want us to get you?”
He was still fumbling to get his crutches settled. Glancing up at me, he looked uncertain. His furrowed brows asked what I was up to. Then he shot Manny a wary grimace. Whatever was or wasn’t on our faces confused him.
“You’d actually do it? Fill a plate? For me?”
I shrugged.
“Fifteen years,” I muttered, letting my gaze fall over his shoulder at the line moving slowly toward the overladen tables.
When my eyes met his again, I could tell he was fighting tears.
“
