“You’re not your usual self this evening, Miss Lizzie,” he said.
“Everything’s fine, Mr. Miller,” I said, as brightly as I could, but I struggled to fix a professional smile on my face. I’d been mugged walking home one night—the thief making off with my bag and apartment keys but no money, given I didn’t even have any spare change that week. Even working as hard as I was, I was barely covering the expenses on the apartment.
“You have this worry line, Miss Lizzie. Right here.” Calvin touched the spot between his eyebrows.
“Just tired, I guess,” I said, flushing. “Can I get you anything else?”
“It’s quiet tonight, huh?” he said. It was almost ten o’clock, and only a single table of businessmen remained in the restaurant, finishing their drinks. The restaurant would close soon, and then I’d start my cleaning. “Have you eaten?”
“I...uh...I usually eat when I finish my shift.”
“Take a seat, Miss Lizzie,” he said, motioning toward the chair opposite him, then toward his plate. He’d ordered his usual—steak, fries, and a side of vegetables. “Share this and chat with me.”
“Oh no, I—”
“Come on,” Calvin cajoled. “Haven’t you heard I’m a lonely widower? Your boss won’t mind if you sit a minute and keep me company. If you get in trouble, I’ll tell them I insisted.”
I took another glance around the room, just in time to see the table of businessmen I’d been serving drop their napkins onto their plates. One of them waved at me as he left, and since Calvin and I were alone in the restaurant anyway, I sank into the empty chair opposite him.
“Did you grow up here, Miss Lizzie?”
I shook my head.
“My family had a farm near Oakden.”
“Oakden...? I don’t know it.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s a tiny little town in Dallam County.”
“What brings you to El Paso?”
“My brother and I came here looking for work. We lost the farm in the drought.”
He grimaced. “Lots of families losing their farms these days. I’m sorry.”
I nodded silently, and he twisted the plate so that the fries were closest to me. Just as I began to tell him I wasn’t hungry, my stomach rumbled at the scent. I sighed and took one.
“Thank you. What do you do for work, Mr. Miller?”
“Call me Calvin, please,” he said. “I’m an aeronautical engineer. I work for a specialist firm up in Albuquerque.”
“Isn’t Albuquerque a long way from here?”
“Not too far, four or five hours, depending on how busy the road is. This is just a temporary contract,” he said.
“I’m worried about my brother,” I suddenly admitted, not sure why I felt comfortable sharing this with a stranger. “He can’t find work. I don’t know how to help him.”
“How old is he?”
“He’s almost twenty-seven.”
“Plenty old enough to help himself.”
“It’s not always that simple.”
Calvin nodded. Then he offered me a quiet smile.
“It all depends on how big your heart is, I guess.”