Eyes turn, and a tall dark skinned five by nine gentleman wearing a sweatshirt, fit denim pants and a pair of black moccasins shoes stands at the entrance staring at us with a biased facial expression.

Shortly after his appearance, the server comes with our order, placing each plate gently on the table.

The father saunters towards our table: a complication of feelings engulfs my thoughts. Why would he be here in the first place, I wonder! Understandably, this is his son. Why now? Relax, speaking to myself, a deep breath to calm my nerves.

Looking at Jackie, my mind read and interpreted. I am serving the “not cool” vibes served at the moment. I give her the gaze query of “what is he doing here?” she replies with shoulder flexion.

The child seems happy to see his Dad despite the story. From what I remember, they haven’t been in touch for a while. Why does the kid seem to be so familiar with his presence? I ponder!

“Enjoy your meal…” the server breaks the awkward silence. “Thank you,” I pleasantly respond.

“Dad…” out of the seat with excitement, he rushes to hug his father, standing an inch from our sitting area.

©Joeln