Marwan opened the doors, and diners started to file in and get seated. Some people said things like “So sorry about what happened” and for others maybe it was just enough to show up.

His father lit the burners in the kitchen, heated some oils, then pulled a tray of falafel from the oven and instructed Marwan to start handing them out on toothpicks to people who were going to have to wait for tables.

After working the line, Marwan had an idea. “We can open up the garden.”

So they did that—wiping leaves and other debris off chairs and tables—and called in more staff, one of whom would have to hit a market on his way over—and the wait dropped to zero and Marwan forgot, at least for a little while, about the cause for the great turnout.

Eden’s mother came in after things had settled down again. She looked around the room with bright eyes that dimmed, clearly not finding whoever they were looking for.

Eden? She would’ve mentioned?

“I’m meeting someone,” Eden’s mother said to Karim, who’d greeted her at the door.

“I can seat you now, if you like.” Karim grabbed menus and showed her to a two-top by the back garden windows. She sat and said, “Thanks,” then looked out the window for a few seconds, seemingly content, before then getting out her phone.

She scrolled.

Marwan approached with a glass of ice water and set it on the table.

She said, “Thanks” without looking up.

He retreated to his station, bused another table, and hoped that Eden’s mother’s dinner companion would show up so she could get off her phone and look happy and expectant again, like she had when she walked in. What if it was a date? Marwan didn’t think he could watch that go down. Had she said she was meeting a “friend” or “someone”? He couldn’t remember.

A man walked in alone, and Marwan tensed. Then the man said, “I see her, thanks.”

He walked toward Eden’s mom’s table, and she got up, and they hugged warmly and then sat. Was it a date? Old friends?

Older people had friends of the opposite sex. Of course they did.

He relaxed again, poured another glass of water, and went to deliver it to the table.

The man looked up and made eye contact. “Thanks, man.”

Marwan said, “You’re welcome,” uncomfortable with being seen, though maybe Eden’s mother didn’t remember him or had no idea who he was to begin with, and anyway, she wasn’t looking at him—only the menu.

A few more groups came in, and the place got busy and louder again, and Marwan could hear only snippets of conversation as he walked past on his way to various tasks.

Him: I’m not here to talk about Nancy.