“Party of six?”
“Sorry, only two—”
The hostess clamped her teeth. ?”Must phone,” she snapped.
Sally looked away. Billy’s face blossomed like a rose. He cleared his throat, lips flapped like a blow fish, but nothing came out.
“You wait.” She pointed to chairs, snapped in the air and displayed two fingers.
The noise level rose like steam over rice. Voices droned. Cutlery scraped.
Sally picked invisible fluff from her suit. She elbowed her husband. “I think she’s forgotten us, or—”
Billy patted her lap and sprang forward. “Excuse me, Miss?”
“Not your turn.”
“The Baker table? We’ve waited ten minutes already.”
The hostess glared. Billy grinned, eyebrows raised. She snapped her fingers again. “Baker,” she barked.
The new hostess led them to the only table for two, flanking the cloakroom.
Sally smoothed her silver hair. “All this, and a Chinese Buffet. Grand. Happy New Year.”
~ * ~