Chapter II

We drove to a nearby diner-type restaurant. I say diner because that was exactly how it appeared. It was an older establishment with memorabilia, both new and old, on every wall in the place. There were even a jukebox and an old popcorn cart near the back of the room. I could tell this wasn’t a traditional diner because I could smell the aromas of hamburgers and French fries mingled with charring tortillas and chorizo.[1]

I guessed Sofia dined there frequently, because the moment we entered the door, a waitress greeted her and asked if she wanted her usual table. She enigmatically replied, “No, only me and Lapis.” The waitress nodded and told her to find a place.

The diner had two rooms, one with a counter, and the other with tables. Sofia briskly walked into the table room with me following behind. With a glance at the room, she found an unoccupied booth table, glided to it, and flounced into the booth. I sat opposite her and was about to ask about the diner, but before I could do so, another waitress came to the booth and provided me with a menu. The waitress asked Sofia what she wanted. Sofia slightly closed her eyes and thought a moment before she asked for carnitas[2] with corn tortillas and a glass of water. I looked at the menu and asked what was good. Sofia suggested the flautas.[3]

“I’ll have the flautas and an iced tea,” I added as the waitress finished scribbling down our order and left to give it to the cook.

“Nice place. I’ve heard about it, but never been here,” I commented absently.

“It’s nice enough. I like it better when no one’s here.” She smiled as she looked around.

I looked around as well and saw only a smattering of people here and there. The place was empty enough, but it didn’t matter to me. I looked back at Sofia and noticed her looking across the room to another table where a young Hispanic couple was seated. They were busy attending a child. I couldn’t tell what Sofia was thinking exactly, but there seemed to be a strange mix of pain and longing in her expression. She glanced back at me suddenly. I saw her eyes filled with anger and embarrassment when she realized I’d noticed her watching the couple. She looked away sharply, trying to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She excused herself, slipped out of the booth, and rushed toward an open doorway at the back of the room.

I was puzzled as I watched Sofia leave. She moved as if she were trying to escape something. I turned toward the young couple and noticed them totally engrossed with each other and the baby. The man was ordinary looking, the woman rather attractive, and the baby was cute. The scene was hardly anything to be angry about, though I felt a bit envious of the man. He had such a pretty wife, whereas I had nothing, not even a girlfriend. As far as I knew, I was supposedly handsome, so why did I have such poor luck?

The more I thought about the situation of him having such a lovely wife, the lonelier I felt. The lonelier I felt, the more hurt I became. The more hurt I became, the angrier I started to feel. I guess it was best that the couple had just finished eating and were about to leave when the waitress returned with our order.

About ten minutes later, Sofia returned and quietly sat down opposite me in the booth. She examined her tasty looking carnitas, prodding them half-heartedly with her fork before she pushed them away.

“I don’t feel very hungry right now,” she said without looking up.

The waitress who greeted us when we entered came by, having noticed she’d pushed away the food.

“Come, mi vida,”[4]the waitress said, looking at Sofia sadly.

Sofia simply nodded then methodically took her fork. Selecting a small piece of meat, she scooped the piece up, and placed it in her mouth. Finishing the small piece she lay down her fork and asked the waitress to wrap the food so she could take it home. The waitress looked at Sofia sadly, took the plate and left.

“Sofia? Are you OK?” I asked, concerned.

Sofia didn’t answer.

“Sofia?” I asked.

She remained silent for a bit, then started.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see this. I don’t normally act this way. I…”

You could hear sadness in her voice, which was cracking as if she were about to cry. The waitress came back with a bag before I could ask Sofia if she would be OK.

Sofia never looked up as she slowly slid out of the booth and took the bag from the waitress, handing her money.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” was all Sofia could say in a broken voice. She fought valiantly not to cry as she briskly walked out of the diner.

I looked at the waitress, who looked sadly at Sofia leaving. Suddenly I wasn’t feeling very hungry either.