“All right, I’ll take a double orange juice, some toast and coffee. Do you have any marmalade?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, bring some of that, too.”
The other woman said, “The same for me.” Marjorie Ventusa picked up their menus. As she was turning to go she saw Robert Holton come into the restaurant and she was suddenly happy. She smiled at him and he, seeing her, smiled back. She pointed to one of her tables and he sat down at it. Quickly she went back to the kitchen to give her orders. She pushed her hair back from her face and promised herself that she would get a snood the next day.
Marjorie Ventusa liked Robert Holton. For a year he had been coming into the restaurant; he always spoke pleasantly to her and they would joke together. She had never seen him anywhere except in the restaurant. She knew that he never really noticed her but she was always glad to see him and she was delighted when he talked to her and smiled at her; his smile was pleasant and he had nice teeth. She thought him handsome.
“Good morning, Mr Holton,” she said, putting a glass of water and some silverware on his table.
“How’re you today, Marjorie? You look perfect.”
“Sure, sure, I do; I’m a real beauty.” Marjorie always felt awkward with him, as though she couldn’t think of the right words to say. She was older than he was, too. Marjorie was thirty-seven; she had known a lot of men and still she was awkward with him.
“What you going to have this morning?” she asked.
“Well....” He drawled the word as he looked at the menu and she had a strong urge to touch the short dark hairs on the back of his neck. She tried to think of some excuse to do so. Then she was angry with herself for having thought of such a thing.