She wasn't so much upset as she was dejected by how losing her table seemed to fit in with the way her life was going right now. Resigned to not wanting to start a fight or cause trouble at her source for free internet, she walked over to get her jacket.The invader hadn't even waited for her still warm and still mostly full cup of coffee to be cleared. But they had left what appeared to be a note under her cup. "This one's on the house, Joe." Her table hadn't been taken. Joe was one of the baristas that she had gotten to know over the last few weeks, and he had just given her an entire sandwich. It was the most food she'd had in front of her in weeks. Stacey sat down and pretended to be leaning over to put her bag on the floor, but in reality, she was sobbing. She couldn't stop the tears from coming. She didn't know if it was because she was so touched by his generosity or because she was so ashamed by how quickly things had gone from good to bad after moving to this city and how. “Maybe first thing for a couple of hours – then, we’d find something to do before dinner – is that OK, Mom and Dad?”I caught them both with food in their mouths; Mom was shaking her head in approval, as was Dad. Finally; they confirmed my question with various vocal mutterings. I never liked any meatloaf except my Moms. Something she adds to the meat, gives it a bit of ‘oomph.’I put my hand down between my sister and I; she casually touched it. It was these kinds of moments we suffered for, but we knew that we had to be very careful.“What time tomorrow morning would you be there, Dad?” I asked.He looked at Mom, who waved her hand, as if she was giving the peasants her royal decree. They smiled at one another.“How does 9AM sound kids?” he responded.Sari and I looked at one another, then she said, “Daddy, that would be wonderful, thank you!”“I take it that you’re making progress with your project?” he asked, as he took a big gulp from his glass of milk.“We sure are, Daddy – We’ve got a.
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