Magic Meals

 I overheard their names as they quietly argued waiting to be seated. 

Sarah’s mood swirled stormily as she sat down at my table, that much was evident by the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips drooped. When my pinkie finger graced Sarah’s elbow I saw her memory from an hour ago, when her boyfriend Robert had asked her out to eat at this swanky restaurant only two days after insisting he couldn’t afford to go on a state-hopping trip to attend her sister’s baby shower. 

 I made a mental note to avoid mentioning trips or baby’s or budgets if I wanted a good tip from this table. Then I made my way over to Robert, who had seated himself. I fussed with the decorations on the table so my arm could graze him for the full story. 

The same hour Sarah had been sulking as she primped for this meal, Robert had been at a jewelry store, and now a precious engagement ring nestled in his pocket. He’d been saving for months to afford it, scrimping every cent he could to make sure he had a ring she’d be able to be proud of. He wanted her to be wearing it when they flew back to her home state to welcome her new niece or nephew around Christmas. 

I took their drink orders trying to wrangle my smile into something moderate instead of the big goofy grin it wanted to pop into, before darting back to the kitchen. 

 “Code Bells, I repeat, code bells, we have a surprise proposal in the house.” I announced in a stage whisper. The cook didn’t bother looking back at me but Angela the waitress and Enrique the bus boy gave tiny golf claps. If it’d been anyone else I’d interrupt that as sarcasm but I knew they just didn’t want to raise suspicions. 

 Probably. 

 “Which table?” Angela peered out, leaning out the peer at the crowd of hungry diners. 

 “Table six. Let’s get the lamp over there dimmed so the diamond sparkles, and...” I popped a carnation from the vase decorating the area near the register and arranged some petals on a large plate that we would put under Robert and Sarah’s smaller main dishes. The bell of the door jingled announcing a new entrant to the restaurant, but it was unnecessary, as the loud braying of their toddler blasted into the room simultaneously. 

 “I will quarantine the family of five that just arrived into the party room,” I decided, leaving the plate petaling for Angela to finish. Not only would this help Robert propose, it’d save a headache from our room packed full of older patrons. I love kids at McDonalds or the park, but bringing armfuls of tots to an expensive sit-down restaurant late on a Saturday night was weird flex by these parents. We all knew our tips would suffer if half the customers left with a headache. 

 I sequestered the toddlers in the party room. They kept escaping and running to the walls. Their parents chased them through the empty room, which was infinitely easier then it would have been in the main area with its piping hot entrees and steak knives that’d come tumbling down with a single tug at a table cloth. . 

 Another couple came in, these two named Goldie and Carrie. When I took her menu from Goldie I had saw that earlier that evening she’d been rehearsing a break up speech in the mirror. She planned to break up, here in public, with the other woman she was with. There didn’t seem to be any sign of abuse as I skimmed her memories, she just wanted to embarrass Carrie in public and leave quickly instead of enduring the ‘why’s that would happen if they broke up in private. 

 I ‘accidentally’ knocked over the soda onto Goldie, and as I was spinning to dab it up, I bumped into Carrie’s drink too. Carrie, furious, stormed to the exit. 

“I’m not paying for those drinks, you’re lucky we don’t send YOU a bill for dry cleaning, you stupid klutz.” 

Goldie hung back, stunned as her plans imploded. Carrie wrung out the front of her shirt near the door, she impatiently glanced over her shoulder. 

“Come on, Goldie!” She barked. “We’ll just eat in, I’ll order a pizza. Jeez.” 

Goldie slunk off to join her partner at the exit, wordlessly. 

Carrie hurled a few more insults as she tugged on her coat and I wished them well. 

 I didn’t want them to stay together but they sure as hell didn’t need to ruin the evening for everyone else here. 

I cleaned the table I’d soaked in soda, glancing up through the frosted window. 

Sure enough by the time the two got to their car in the parking lot they were slinging insults not at the restaurant but at each other. Carrie stomped her foot, which gave away on the ice that had escaped the effects of the salt we’d spread. She slipped out of sight. I winced, hoping she was too distracted to consider a lawsuit. 

 Another customer sat in my section, but I hardly noticed as Robert was sliding a small felt box towards Sarah. Her storm had cleared and the corner’s of her mouth were already creeping towards her ears, before she covered the smile with her shaking hands. Us servers didn’t bring attention to it or shine a spotlight on the couple, but found by whispering the rest of the diners subconsciously played along and lowered their own tone. My ears strained to hear Sarah’s response over the customer currently ordering his drink. 

“Yes,” She breathed, and then louder. “Yes, yes!” 

Her chair legs clattered against the floor as she ran around the table and bound Robert in a hug. I blinked back tears of joy, and a cloud of warm congratulations floated up from the neighboring diners that had been eavesdropping. 

My shift wrapped up normally. The mom of the kids was smiling as she signed her check, thanking me for the more private seats so her brood could be better contained. I complimented her on their healthy energy before the whole herd stampeded outside with a chorus of giggles. Enrique joined me and heaved a sigh at the war zone left in the kids wake. 

“Hey, you threw fries on the floor when you were a kid too.” I patted him on the shoulder. His week was going good, at least by Enrique standards. He’d gone up a few ranks in the shooting game he spent all of his free time on and had almost saved up enough to buy a car. 

“French fries with ketchup, not truffle fries.” Enrique protested, before rolling his shoulders and getting to get work. I went back to buzzing between my tables, including six, which was ready for the check. 

Sarah passed me on the way to the restroom, and Robert was fumbling with his wallet. 

“How’d you know?” He asked. 

“Know what?” I asked, reaching for the bill holder. He leaned away, holding the black folder behind him. 

“That I was going to propose. Are you friends with the clerk from the jewelry store or something?” Robert asked. 

“I have a magic power called psychometry. If I touch someone I can see the last twelve hours of their life,” I explained. Robert rolled his eyes with a smile and handed the bill holder back to me. 

“Fine, keep it a secret. Thanks for the help, though.” 

“Our pleasure.” I told the truth again. Robert put his hand on Sarah’s hip and together they stepped into a frigid world outside. With that envelope of love and hope surrounding them I knew the frost wouldn’t bother them too much.