I looked over to see who was coming in and saw a man I didn’t recognize. A bespectacled older man with a head of white hair and kind hazel eyes. I watched Cecily run up to him and usher him into one of my booths, then went back and stood behind the counter to play something on her phone.
Ringing up two booths, I handed them their checks before making my way over to the lonely man in the corner.
“Welcome to our little corner of the world,” I said with a smile. “What can I get for you this afternoon?”
“I’ll start with a mug of your finest black coffee,” he said.
“Can I interest you in a slice of our infamous pecan pie to go along with that? It’s a fan favorite here,” I said.
“Oh, no-no. The amount of sugar in one slice of pecan pie exceeds my daily limit and approaches even my weekly limit. And I really do enjoy my M&M’s in the evening.”
My eyebrows rose at his matter-of-fact statement as a soothing chuckle fell from his lips.
“I am Dr. Luke Simmons. I’m the physician with the practice on the other side of town,” he said.
“Then that explains it,” I said with a smile. “And I have to personally say thank you for staying in this small town. I haven’t personally met you yet, but everyone talks about Dr. Simmons as being the last doctor in town.”
“Most of my colleagues abandoned this place for the outlying towns. Bigger places. Better equipped to handle things. But this place is home for me, and every town should have a physician on staff.”
“So no to the pecan pie, but a possible yes to our house salad?” I asked.
“Now you’re talking,” he said as he put down his menu. “I prefer the ‘practice what I preach’ mode in order to serve as an example to my patients. No matter how delicious a slice of pie might smell.”
“Well the smells are free in this joint,” I said. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.”
I watched the man pull out his phone and start thumbing through it. I settled a cup of coffee in front of him before setting a small carafe on the tabletop. He was warm. Comforting. His presence put me at ease.
He reminded me of someone.
“Have you decided what you might want to eat?” I asked.
“I think your house salad and house soup sounds phenomenal right about now,” he said. “But only if you tell me why you’re an unfamiliar face in town.”
“Because I didn’t grow up here, Dr. Simmons.”
“Please, call me Luke,” he said.
“Well, Dr. Luke, I’ll go put your order in. It should be up in no time.”
I went to put his order in and service some of the other patrons, but found myself gravitating back towards him. I enjoyed our snippets of conversation in between things other people needed. But I knew the Friday night rush was coming in soon, which meant I wouldn’t have a lot of time to talk with the man before he left of his own volition.
“Here we go. One house salad with our house dressing on the side, and one bowl of our vegetable soup,” I said.
“It smells great. Thank you,” he said.
“I really hope you enjoy it. I haven’t tried the house dressing yet, so you’ll have to let me know how it is.”
“Not a salad person?” he asked.
“Not a dressing person. A little oil and vinegar goes a long way with me.”
“‘Atta, girl. No one should ever snub their nose at a plate full of vegetables.”
“I’ve never been the type to complain about them,” I said with a smile. “So you say you grew up around here?”
“Yep. Born in 1942 and never left once. Except to go to medical school.”
My eyes widened at his statement.