Improvement

Three women (one unknown and two known) sit in a row at a diner with one counter and fourteen stools. To their right sit men. A handful of workers. Several wear clothes smelling of engine grease. They, like the two known women, behave like regulars, chatting with the cook and waitress. Friendliness and familiarity flow between them. Unknown woman wants to insert herself, to be for a moment known. She focuses on the women. Daughter takes mother to lunch each week. They go to this diner because mother cooked there for forty years and daughter served food for twenty-two. (They also like to watch Polka on television and play cards.) They could eat some other place. They could do many things, but prefer their been-here-forever seats. On their way out, unknown woman asks mother and daughter to pose for a photograph outside. "I don't like my picture taken," says mother. "Pretend that you do," says unknown woman. Mother agrees. Daughter delights in this expected turn and asks unknown woman to email the picture to her. After receiving, daughter writes back, describing mother as being best friend and the worst about photos. "It's special for me to have us together. I love it and I'm going to ask my sister to frame it for me."  She calls unknown woman a little angel, wishes her happy holidays and muses of a future passing at the diner. Now somewhat remembered, unknown woman thinks a second crossing unlikely unless the food gets better.