“Sorry,” he said again, quickly removing his hand as though he had almost been burned. “I didn’t mean to speak to you that way earlier.”
Not sure how to respond, I was grateful for the distraction when some hungry club-hoppers looking for sustenance before the next dance round noisily wandered into the diner. I could leave them to Shirley, but I needed a little space from Lud.
By the time I came back from self-tasked chores, cooking meals, and taking the trash outside, Shirley had left for the night, and Lud had disappeared. There was a fifty dollar tip beside his plate.
I sighed and put the money in the tip jar before continuing my regular routine. What I would say to Lud when I returned home later that morning, if he was even around or back to his usual self, I had no idea.
* * * *