Chapter 26 - THE BANQUET ROOM
Decades after the plate incident, Beckett asked to host a charity dinner in the old banquet room.
He was forty.
A chef with two restaurants.
Neither named Thorn.
The event funded school meal programs.
I stared at him.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“A little.”
“Are we turning trauma into branding?”
“No cameras on family. No story in the program. The room is cheap because the trust gives nonprofits a rate.”
That satisfied me.
At the dinner, children from the program were not displayed as symbols.
Adults attended.
Funds went to meals.
Staff were paid.
Beckett cooked.
Prime rib appeared.
Of course.
I stood beside the coat rack.
Faye joined me.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Lie.”
“Mostly okay.”
She linked her arm through mine.
The banquet table no longer had a permanent head seat.
Guests found places.
A server offered me a plate.
I took it.
Full.
Across the room, Beckett was eating before final service.
Staff meal.
Nonnegotiable policy in his restaurants.
Everyone who worked ate.
That rule had nothing to do with publicity.
May you like
No plaque explained it.
Good.
