Diane turned and went into the restroom. She stood in front of the mirror for a minute, her hands gripping either end of the sink. It had been Troy, she knew it. Or, well, maybe it hadn’t been. And anyway she was here to find out about . . . Ethan? Ellen? She couldn’t remember the name. Nothing about herself seemed certain. She shouted into the sink. It did nothing in response. She shouted again, wondering if the people out in the dining room could hear her. No one came in, anyway. She wasn’t sure she had even been shouting out loud, or if she had only thought about shouting. Her throat felt raw.

She ran the sink and then the hand dryer and then returned to her booth.

Dawn was there.

“The waiter told me you were in the restroom. She said to have a seat. Sorry I’m late.”

“Hi, Dawn. It’s good to see you.”

Her throat was tight and sore as she spoke, and she tried to make her voice sound normal.

“What’s this?” Dawn grabbed the notepad Diane had left sitting on the tabletop.

“No, you don’t have to—” Diane started. “It’s just some things—”

Dawn grinned as she read it.

“Well, first off, I am fine. How are you? Do you have a pen?”

Diane indicated the pen next to the salt, pepper, and sand shakers.

“Ah, great.” Dawn took it and checked off the questions as she answered them. “The family’s great. My sister is pregnant. My father retired and is making hammocks. As a hobby, you understand. He’s made thousands, leaving them in a giant pile on his front lawn. The neighborhood association is upset because they think it’s a political statement, some kind of conceptual art installation about the existence of mountains.”

“Yikes. That’s very controversial,” said Diane, finding a gap in the conversation she could work her voice into. “I mean, I believe in mountains and all, but I understand it’s a controversial viewpoint. I would never force that viewpoint on others.”

“Right, well, that’s not what he’s trying to do at all. Don’t get down on my dad. You don’t know him. He just likes making hammocks and then putting them in a pile. That’s something he’s always loved.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I’m glad your father is happy.”

“He says kids come by sometimes trying to steal hammocks from his pile to hang between two trees and lie on. He manages to chase most of those vandals away. He acts irritated when he talks about it, but, between you and me, I think he likes the challenge.”

Dawn checked the next thing off the list and added, “Yes, I have a family. It might have made more sense to put that first.”