It’s the day after my face was splashed all over the morning paper, and, to my relief, nobody seems to have clued in that Kennedy the Waitress is actually Kennedy the Missing Fiancée. The diner today is packed. Almost every table is full. “What’s the deal?” I ask Leila when I finally see her in the kitchen. She is piling up a tray full of soft drinks and barely looks up at me. “Max applied a ‘senior’s discount’ to Mondays,” she says with a wrinkled nose. “I think it was in the community paper yesterday and look at all the people who showed up today.” “Good idea. It definitely has brought in more business.” I am impressed with Max. Maybe he’s not such a dud after all. “And I guess that’s why every person is over sixty-five?” “You got it.” Leila manages to wedge the eleventh cup on her tray and heads out the door. I turn to Gary who is sweating heavily and muttering things under his breath.
