Today I’ll See Her

Today I’ll See Her Today is the day. My heart skipped a beat as I climbed the steps in front of the diner. Today is the day I’ll finally see my Tina. I pulled open the door and stepped into the restaurant, my eyes quickly zeroing in on the booth in the back. It was empty. “I’ll take that booth, Betty,” I said to the older waitress. She was plump, with a cap of tight, iron-gray curls and tired eyes, and she always smelled like coffee and fried food. She wore a navy-blue tee-shirt with “Mayfield Family Restaurant” printed in white, blocky letters on the back.