Business is good today. Many of my regulars have spent their lunch hour with me, with some sitting outside under umbrellas and others inside where the a/c is working on overdrive. One of my favorite Saturday customers is the pretty lady and her small dog. She’s been coming here for as long as I’ve owned this place, almost 15 years now.

A few years ago, she came when I wasn’t busy, so we talked. I told her I was from Syria, one of the luckier ones. She told me she was an Army veteran but hadn’t been to Syria. I learned her current job took her to other countries and coming to my restaurant was her “bookend.”

“What kind of ‘bookend?’’ I asked.

“A place I visit before I leave the country and one of the first places I visit when I return home. I like your cheeseburgers.”

Today my eyes follow her as she ties the dog’s leash around a table leg that sits in the shade, protected from the afternoon sun. She points to the dog as if saying “stay” then walks toward the door. As a man walks out, he waves good-bye and holds the door open for her. 

“Hello, how are you, lady?” I ask as she walks the few steps to the counter. She smiles and answers, “OK, thanks.”  

The menu board never changes; neither do the prices, and neither has she. The lady squints, stares at the board for a moment, then orders her usual—a double topped by Swiss cheese, mayo, pickles, an order of onion rings, and a small cup of water.

“$11.12. For here?” as I hand her the cup of water.

“No, to go.”

“How’s your son?” I see him sometimes at the grocery store. He is a handsome young man.

“Too busy to visit his mother. Jay comes to the house to do his laundry when I’m not home.”

I smile, thinking of my youth, then watch as her upper lip begins to quiver, “I’ll be outside,” she says in a whisper as she turns away from me.

She takes a sip of water from the cup, turns to a customer, and says, “Pardon me, are you reading the newspaper?” 

“No,” the customer answers and just like a magician, the lady pulls the newspaper out from under the customer’s tray, and presto, the door closes behind her.

I watch as she sets the cup down in front of the dog. She sits at the table with her back to the sun and opens the newspaper. An older couple arrives to pick up their food. Another 10 minutes, another three customers, and the lady’s food is ready. I toss ketchup packets in the bag and walk outside.

“Here, lady.” 

She smiles, exchanges the folded newspaper for the bag. “Thanks for everything,” she says. She unties the dog’s leash from the table leg, and together they walk toward the parking lot.

I turn to ask the customers at a nearby table how their food tastes. Smiling, pretending to hear their answers, I watch the lady help the dog into her car, and I wonder if today’s was a “bookend” visit.