“Good evening, Ms. Holloway.” A tall, dark-haired hostess stood behind a countertop with a bright smile.
“Hello,” came Marilyn Holloway’s soft-spoken reply. “Is my usual table available?”
“Yes, ma’am. Follow me.”
The hostess grabbed a menu and wine list and guided Marilyn to her table, pulling the chair out for her to sit.

“Our special tonight is…” the hostess began as she set a menu in front of Marilyn.
“Lamb chop,” she interrupted.
“Yes,” the girl said and then changed her tone slightly, almost whispering,” but we’re out of baked potatoes, unfortunately.”
“That’s too bad. I’m sure that will disappoint all the starch-seekers on the prowl tonight.” Marilyn and the hostess share a giggle.

“Your server will be with you shortly,” she said and turned swiftly, gliding back to her post.

Marilyn thoughtfully placed the folded up linen napkin in her lap and opened the menu. She has tried just about everything on the menu, including the extensive wine list, and very few times has she been disappointed.

“Leslie,” the petite hostess called out to a waitress hanging out by the food window in the kitchen, large round black tray ready.
“What’s up?” Leslie asked, her back still to her.
“It’s Thursday”, she replied. “She’s here.”
“Ok, how does she seem today?” Leslie asked, turning to face the hostess.
“The same,” came her response.
Leslie sighed. “Ok, thank you,” and began loading plates up on her tray as they are placed on the window.

Leslie’s phone dinged in her pocket. She placed the tray down on the jack and retrieved her phone. It was a text from Brian.

Can you pick up milk on your way home? Also, Jonah only has 3 diapers left.

She meant to pick up diapers before she went to work but got busy and forgot. The milk went bad yesterday. Leslie sighed again. It’ll have to wait till tomorrow she thought to herself and slid her phone back in her pocket.

“Hey, get movin’!” A grumpy chef quipped at her. “I don’t want my hard work being served half-ass and cold.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” She picked up the tray with the jack at her side before walking out the swinging door to the dining hall.

She spotted Marilyn, sitting at her usual table, in her usual seat. Marilyn had been coming to the restaurant for nearly three years, or so the rumor went. Every Thursday at 6:15, she requested the same table, impeccably dressed, and stayed for dinner, wine and dessert.
And she was always by herself.

The only things she knows for certain are that she is from out of town, and she’s not a vagabond. The general consensus is that she’s a widow and must not have any family nearby. Why else would she come here every Thursday and why else is no one ever with her?

“Nice to see you, Ms. Holloway,” Leslie greeted her.
“Always a pleasure to see you, my dear. How is Jonah?” Marilyn asked thoughtfully.
“He’s better this week.”
Jonah had been sick with a fever when they spoke last week and Marilyn remembered. Leslie always appreciated that about her.
“I’m so glad to hear that!” she said and placed a hand over her heart.
“Thank you for asking about him,” Leslie smiled. “Have you decided what you’d like to have tonight?”

Marilyn looked down, skimming the wine list. Leslie couldn’t help but notice her salt and peppery hair looked like glittering silver in the dim chandelier lighting.
“I’m having a hard time deciding which wine to try. How about you pick one for me?”
Leslie thought for a moment before asking, “Have you decided what you’ll be having for dinner yet?”
“Yes, I’d like the Filet Mignon with 2 baked potatoes,” she replied decidedly, holding up two fingers to reiterate her decision.
“Oh, oh no, I’m sorry but…” Leslie started.
Marilyn slapped at Leslie’s hand playfully and let out a little laugh. “Oh honey, I’m only fooling. I’ll have the broccolini.”

Leslie was relieved when her patrons had a sense of humor. They weren’t always necessarily good senses of humor, but still – it made her job a little less stiff and stifling.
Just then, she saw her boss glaring at her from behind the bar.
She could read his face from a mile away: ‘You have other tables! Drinks are waiting! Stop chatting and start serving!’
“Then, I would suggest the Artemis Cabernet”, Leslie said, still smirking at Marilyn’s attempt at being funny.

***

“Hey, you’re home early,” Brian said as he kisses Leslie on the cheek.
“Yeah, we didn’t have the normal rush tonight.” Leslie sighed and took off her shoes by the front door.
“Homecoming,” Brian said with a mouthful of popcorn.
“What?” Leslie asked quizzically.
Brian held up a finger until he could swallow his snack.
“Tonight was the Homecoming football game. I bet that’s why you didn’t have the rush.”
“Ah,” Leslie said. “How was Jonah at bedtime?”
“Fine. Did you get diapers and milk?”
Leslie held up two bags. “Good thing I got to leave early. Made it into the store just before they closed.”
“Nice!” Brian exclaimed. He was now sitting in front of the TV with a headset on and controller in hand.
“How was the auto shop?” Leslie asked.
“Meh, same old, same old,” he replied. “Oh, and your mom said to tell you hi and call her when you can.”
“Right. I’ll do that tomorrow. I’m going to shower.” Leslie said, putting the milk in the fridge.
“Cool, be there in a bit.” Brian was frantically pushing buttons on the controller and swearing at the TV already.

She turned to go towards their bedroom but looked around the apartment with utter dismay. Baby toys strewn about all over the place. The sink was full of dishes. Laundry was in a pile on the couch which Brian had to have moved in order to sit down. Leslie rolled her eyes. She could do the cleaning now and just shower in the morning or leave the cleaning until tomorrow and shower now. Either way she wouldn’t sleep well.

***

“You know her husband died, right?” Gwen said.

“You don’t know that,” Leslie lightly scolded her.

“Why else would she eat alone every Thursday?” Jude pushed past Leslie and the other servers rolling silverware.

“Maybe she likes eating alone,” Leslie defended.

Emma crinkled her nose. “Nobody likes eating alone.”

It was Thursday and the restaurant was about to open. Leslie would be training the new server, Emma, tonight and was trying to give her the heads up about Ms. Marilyn when the other servers decided to offer their measly 2 cents.

“Have you ever asked her what her story is?” Emma inquired.
“Well, no, not really.” Leslie replied sheepishly.
“Why not?” Emma asked with a hint of ‘duh’ in her tone.
“I guess I just don’t think it’s really any of my business why she comes here. Besides, what if it is some terribly sad and tragic story and it makes her uncomfortable to talk about it?”
Leslie walked around Emma and started putting bread in serving baskets.
“Can’t hurt to ask,” Emma shrugged.
“Look, I’m not good at those kinds of conversations and I figure if that was something she wanted to share with me, she would’ve done it by now.” Leslie was exasperated with the conversation. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m just trying to do my job and get home to my husband and kid with enough money to pay tomorrow’s bills, okay?”
Emma looked stunned.
“Okay,” she said and the conversation was abruptly over.

When 6:15 arrived and Marilyn was sat at her table, Leslie and Emma made their way over to her, bread basket in hand.

“How are you tonight, Ms. Marilyn?” Leslie asked smiling.
“Oh, you know me, I can’t complain – at least not out loud.” Marilyn let out a little chortle. Emma giggled with delight.
“I’ve got a trainee tagging along for the ride tonight. This is Emma.” Leslie motioned at her young sidekick.
“Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard so much about…” Emma started, but Leslie bumped her abruptly. Emma turned red and handed her the menu.
“Oh, I’m sure people have plenty to say about me, Sugar.” Marilyn stated with a twinkle in her eye. “You can’t come to the same restaurant for three years at the same time, on the same day of the week, ask for the same table and NOT expect some elevated eyebrows.”
Marilyn winked at Leslie.
Emma smiled, relieved she hadn’t offended her.
“What can we get you this evening?” Leslie asked, trying to get back on track. She produced a wine list from under her arm and held it out to her.
“Actually,” Marilyn started, putting both her hands up in rejection of the wines. “I’ll have a gin and tonic tonight, please.”
“Oo, special occasion?” Emma asked all too eagerly. Leslie shot her a look.
“In fact, it is,” Marilyn smiled. “It’s my birthday!”
“Oh, happy birthday,” Emma and Leslie said almost simultaneously.
“Thank you. It’s really not until tomorrow, but I figured I’d celebrate here tonight. 68! Lots of life left to live in this old gal.”
Emma looked at Leslie as if to say, ‘Ask her why she’s all alone on her birthday for heaven’s sake!’

But before either could say anything else Marilyn continued, “But please, for the love of fried green tomatoes, don’t send a troupe of servers over here to sing to me. I might just die of embarrassment on the spot.”
Leslie giggled. “I promise that won’t happen.”

As the two girls walked together to the bar to place Ms. Marilyn’s order, Emma leaned over and whispered, “She’s definitely a widow.”

***

Leslie lay awake thinking about Marilyn that night. She couldn’t exactly interrogate her at work with her boss glaring from across the restaurant. Perhaps she could invite her to lunch? Or even better -Thanksgiving! It was just around the corner. Marilyn practically knew Jonah already. Maybe she’d enjoy having a family to spend the holidays with?

Leslie smiled at the thought. Jonah could have an adopted grandmother. Her mind was racing. She could hardly wait for next Thursday to come!

***

Thursday at 6:15 came and went and there was no Marilyn.
6:30, no Marilyn.
7:00, still no Marilyn.

Leslie was starting to panic. Where was she? Had something terrible happened? She couldn’t remember a Thursday that Marilyn wasn’t at her table, whether she was serving her or someone else was. She always remembered seeing her.

Leslie walked to the hostess stand.
“Hey, did Ms. Holloway make a reservation for today, by chance?” She asked the dark-haired girl behind the counter.
“No, I don’t think she has ever made a reservation before. Even on busy days, she just walks in and if her table is taken, she says she’ll wait for it,” she responded.
“You don’t happen to have her number written down or memorized, do you?” Leslie was fumbling for anything at this point. The hostess just shook her head.

***

“How was work, babe?” Brian asked as Leslie sat down beside him in her night shirt.
“She wasn’t there tonight,” she said, still shocked.
“Who?” Brian asked, as he took one side of his headphones off the ear closest to Leslie, keeping his gaze on the TV.
“Nevermind,” she said and stood up to leave.
Brian grabbed at the back end of her night shirt.
“Wait, wait,” he exclaimed and put the controller and headset down. “Are you talking about that lonely old lady? What happened?”
“I don’t know. She just didn’t show up.” Leslie looked on the verge of tears. Brian sat her back down on the couch.
“Hey, hey. I’m sure everything is ok. Maybe she was just feeling under the weather today? Or maybe she ate somewhere else for once?” Leslie tilted her head at him and narrowed her eyes slightly in protest of such an absurd suggestion. Brian conceded, “She’ll be back next week. You’ll see.”
He hugged her and kissed her forehead. He took her face in his hands to look into her eyes.
“I made beef stroganoff. I left a plate for you in the microwave.” He took her hand and guided her to the kitchen. It was an utter mess.
“Babe,” she sighed, utterly annoyed at the sight.
“Oh, come on, now. You know what they say: the messier the kitchen, the better the cook,” Brian joked and he took a plate out of the microwave.
“That doesn’t apply when the cooking instructions are on a box, sir.” Leslie playfully pushed him and took the plate of food and sat at their little round dining table.
Brian sat down beside her.
“She’ll be there next week,” he said.
“I hope so,” Leslie mused, “because I have some questions for her.”

***

It was 6:10. The restaurant was stirring with the buzzing’s of the first rush. Leslie almost couldn’t contain her nerves. Would she be here tonight? What if she had found a new restaurant to eat at? That would almost feel like a betrayal at this point. Surely, she would have come to say goodbye first?

Just as Leslie’s thoughts began to dip into the darker what-ifs, she saw her. Dressed to the nines and being escorted to her usual spot. Leslie breathed a sigh of relief and without so much as another moment’s thought rushed over to her.

“Ms. Marilyn! It’s so good to see you!” The tone came out much more exaggerated than she had wanted, but honestly, she didn’t care.

Marilyn was taken aback for a moment. “Oh?” Marilyn slowly slid her heavy coat off, staring wide-eyed at Leslie.
“Yes, where did you go last week?” Leslie inquired, not seeming to care anymore about what was her business or not.
“Oh, my goodness. Well, if I had known how much my presence would have been missed, I would’ve called to move my colonoscopy to another day. My apologies, dear.” Marilyn placed her coat and purse in the chair beside her.

“I was wondering if you’d like to spend Thanksgiving with us?” Leslie blurted it out before she could even think.
“That’s awfully sweet of you, dear…” Marilyn began.
“It’s just me, my husband and Jonah. My mom will be there, too just a little later.” Leslie continued, not wanting to lose momentum.
“Sweetheart, I…” Marilyn tried interjecting again but was unsuccessful.
“You don’t have to bring a thing. I’ll take care of everything. Just show up and spend the day with us. I can’t stand the thought of you being alone on Thanksgiving.” Leslie was almost out of breath from talking so fast.

Marilyn stared incredulously at her for a beat before daring to try to speak again.
“Honey, what gives you the impression that I would be spending Thanksgiving alone?” Marilyn asked, never taking her eyes off Leslie.
Leslie swallowed hard and fumbled for the right words to say.
“I, uh, I assumed you didn’t have, uh, family since you….” Leslie stammered.
“Since I eat here alone every Thursday?” Marilyn finished her thought for her.
“Well, yeah…” Leslie sounded more defensive than she meant to.
“Sugar,” Marilyn smiled sweetly. “I have been happily married for more than 40 years. I have 2 sons and 6 grandchildren. I play pickleball with the same group of women every Tuesday morning. I volunteer at the local women’s shelter when they need me.”

“But then why do you come here and eat alone when you have all these amazing people around you?” Leslie asked dumbfounded.

“It’s because I have all these people around me that I eat here alone.” Marilyn chuckled as she spoke. Leslie’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Oh, honey – please don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way. I adore my family and friends. All of them. I don’t think there’s any way for me to love them more. But I still need time away from them.”

Leslie sat down at the table engulfed in Marilyn’s words.

“I created a beautiful life for myself and filled it with beautiful people, any of whom I would give my right arm for. What I didn’t anticipate was losing myself in those people. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Leslie nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Well, years of being needed at all hours of the day can take a toll on a person. So, one night I told my husband I was going out, by myself to get some dinner. He didn’t understand at first and thought he had royally screwed up in some way. I assured him he did nothing wrong and that I just needed some time away to rest my mind.”

“You came here?” Leslie asked.

“No. I went to a Hardee’s and grabbed a ham and cheese sandwich and ate it in the parking lot.” She smirked at the memory. Leslie laughed out loud.

“I came back home and kissed my husband and told him he should do the same thing some time. Would you believe me if I told you he comes here on Tuesday nights? It saved our sanity and our marriage.”

Leslie sat back.

“But why this table?” Leslie asked as if the thought just hit her. “Why not sit at the bar?”
“Oh, plenty of times I’ve been offered bar seating. But why should I be asked to take up less space just because I’m here alone? I want the whole table, please and thank you.”

The women shared another laugh.

“I’d still like to invite you to lunch sometime.” Leslie said.

“I’d absolutely love to go!” Marilyn replied and patted Leslie’s hand.

***

{1 week later. }

“How many?” A hostess asked with a bright smile on her face.
“Just one,” came the reply.
“Would you like to sit at the bar, then?” the hostess asked and motioned toward the bar.
“Actually,” Leslie began. “I’d like that table.”