“And she never forgot.”
Just then, Mom returned carrying two plates.
She placed the eggs, potatoes, and toast in front of Walt.
Then she set the pancake on the opposite side of the table.
In front of me.
“Here you go.”
I looked up.
“Mom, I didn’t order anything.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“But Walt’s breakfast has always come with one extra pancake.”
Walt’s eyes filled.
He picked up his fork.
Then put it down again.
“Darlene?”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember the winter the foundry closed?”
Mom went still.
“Of course.”
“1983.”
She nodded.
“I remember.”
Walt looked at me.
“I lost my job that January.”
His voice trembled slightly.
“The foundry shut its doors. Ruth was gone. I had a thirteen-year-old son and less than forty dollars in the bank.”
I stared at him.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Most people didn’t.”
He looked down at the pancake.
