The Paper Pop Read

Rosa muted the TV in the fourth quarter, stood in front of it, and my husband handed her a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, the one he had put his reading glasses on for an hour before, and Kyle sat there with his beer and his leased BMW smirk.

Rosa handed the paper back to my husband and asked him to read it, because, she said, it came from him, and it was his to share. My husband cleared his throat.

It was a letter he had written to the owners of the Waffle House corporation, months ago, about Rosa. About nineteen years of a woman who never called in sick, who trained every new hire, who knew three hundred regulars by their orders and their troubles, who once talked a man out of the worst night of his life over a cup of coffee at two in the morning and never told a soul. My husband had mailed it not knowing if anyone would read it.

Someone had. Stapled to his letter was their reply. They were opening a new location outside Macon and they wanted Rosa to run it. General manager. Salary, benefits, a 401k, the very thing Kyle had waved in her face, and a signing bonus that made my daughter, Kyles wife, put her hand over her mouth.

My daughter-in-law poured coffee in the same yellow shirt for nineteen years not because she could do no better, but because that counter was where she quietly held a whole highway of broken people together, and the company had finally noticed the woman her own family laughed at.

Kyle did not have a toast for the fourth quarter. But Rosa, who had every right to pour his chili over his head, did something better. She looked at him and said, Kyle, when the new place opens, first coffees on me. Bring the family. Every one of you eats free the first week. Thats how we do it where I come from.

My son put his arm around his wife. My daughter went and hugged Rosa and whispered something that made them both tear up. And Rosa still brings me coffee every Saturday morning, only now she is the boss, and she pours it exactly the same, because a good woman does not change her pour just because her title did.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *