“I can order first,” I tell the lady who holds the pad in one hand and the pen in the other. “I’ll take pancakes, waffles, two eggs over easy, two eggs scrambled, some hash browns, six orders of toast, and three orange juices.” The lady just rolls her lips, trying not to laugh, and I look up at her. “Just put the plates in the middle, and we can all share.”

“Got it,” she says, and then looks at Caroline. “Did you want to add some fruit with that?” Caroline just shakes her head. “Coming right up.”

“Do you know how much food you just ordered?” Caroline leans over the table and directs her question at me, but her voice is louder than she intended.

“Well, you took too long, so I ordered for us,” I say, grabbing the water and taking a sip, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Can we talk?” Caroline says. “Outside.” She gets up. “Honey, I’ll be right outside.”

“Okay, Mom,” he says.

I smile at him. “Don’t eat all that food before I come back.” He smiles back and shrugs. I follow Caroline outside, ignoring the fact that the yoga pants mold her ass like a second skin and should be worn with a long shirt to cover it. I wonder to myself if I have a jacket in the car, and then I almost stop in my tracks. What is happening to me? I don’t have time to think about it because we are outside in front of the window, and she looks in to see if Dylan is okay.

“I can’t afford to pay for this meal,” she says, her head held high and her shoulders back. “There is no way I can even imagine what that bill will be, but …”

I hold up my hand to stop her from talking. “When did I ask you to pay for anything?”

“I can’t afford to pay this. Not now”—she talks faster now—“not next week, not even next month. I am not a charity case.”