So we had to wait for a bit, which my kids said they didn’t mind. In the waiting area, there were a few adults and more than a half-dozen small children. It was pure pandemonium. But there was also an older couple waiting just ahead of us—let’s just say they appeared to be well past retirement age. The gentleman admired my son’s well-loved Red Sox cap and shook his hand for being a fellow fan. He then jokingly admonished that we should not acknowledge his wife, who was a dreaded Yankees fan. :O We continued to chat for a bit, about the usual things … kids, grandkids, great grandkids, and how time flies.
And all the while, I’m looking around at the infants in car seats. The toddlers barely walking. A couple of pre-schoolers. My own kids. And this elderly couple. And I’m thinking, “Wow, I truly can’t believe my babies are *already* as big as they are. Before I know it, the retired couple heading out for a late lunch on a weekday will be DH and I.”
Soon, the couple was seated. A few minutes later, we were seated in the booth across from them.
I enjoyed the company of my children, who were acting especially silly that day. We ate and talked about the animals at the zoo and laughed and ate some more. I found myself occasionally glancing aside at the couple, seeing my distant future in their actions. Eating, talking, enjoying each other’s company. There was just something about the way they looked at each other. It was apparent that they didn’t feel the need to fill the air with a constant stream of conversation; after all those years together, they could easily speak volumes with merely a glance.
I’m not sure exactly what compelled me to do what I did, but before I knew it I found myself motioning to a waitress walking by.
“Excuse me, but do you see that couple across from me?”
“Um, yes …”
“Can you do me a favor, and bring me their check? Make sure they get whatever they want, just tell them they’ve been taken care of but please don’t say by whom.”
“Okay, I’ll let their waitress know.”
A few minutes later, another waitress slipped me their bill. I stuck around a bit while my children, both of whom are notoriously slow eaters, finished their lunches. When the couple asked for their check, I witnessed the waitress try to explain to them that they were “all set.” It took a few minutes, but she finally got the message across that they, indeed, did not have to pay for their lunch that day. I saw the gentleman glance around the room, and even look in my direction, but after the waitress refused to give me up, the couple begrudgingly left the restaurant.
Their waitress had tears in her eyes when she came to my table so I could pay the check. I didn’t mean to make the waitress cry, really. But I have to confess, I was holding back a few of my own. Who knew a random act of kindness could make the giver feel so good?
And the ice cream? Well, let’s just say it never tasted so sweet.
