After talking with a co-worker about Mexican food, I confirmed that I was going to enjoy a meal from my favorite new restaurant after work. It was my form of “fancy Tex-Mex.” I contemplated ordering take-out but once I got home, the weather was still warm and it was a perfect evening to grab my dog, Pepper, and enjoy dinner outside. I had a Groupon that I needed to use before it expired, so I was planning to order a couple items that I could munch on tonight but also take home for tomorrow’s lunch. I was patting myself on the back for being planful and getting the biggest bang for my buck while making the most out of the warm, evening sun.
The restaurant is nestled on a side street of a suburban neighborhood that is slowly starting to blossom with new restaurants and eateries just in time for summer. Since the restaurant is still new to the neighborhood, I was expecting it to be fairly empty. However, as I pulled up to park, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one who wanted to enjoy their dinner outside. As Pepper and I walked up, I saw a group of three enjoying a round of drinks and appetizers. They oohed an aahed over Pepper, introduced themselves then continued their conversation.
There was also an older woman seated at one o the first tables and she had a suitcase, a bottle of coke and a pack of cigarettes sitting on the table next to her sunglasses. She was wearing a wide-brimmed hat sitting low on her head to shield the sun that was aimed right in her direction, casting a long shadow behind her.
I found a shaded table in the back corner so Pepper wouldn’t bother anyone while they ate and I could tie her leash to the short, iron fence that outlined the eating area. Once settled, I pulled out the book I just started to read so I could pick up where I left off after I ordering my food.
As I looked over the menu, I heard the table of three discussing divorce, starting over and embracing a new community. From brief observation, I figured the younger woman at the table was embarking on a new part of her life and the other two were perhaps her older, married friends who were imparting wisdom and encouragement.
Once in a while, the woman with the hat would get up and wander off to smoke a cigarette away from the restaurant but still within view of her simple belongings. She asked for water and told her waiter she was considering ordering something to eat. He brought her chips and salsa for her to snack on while she decided. There was no menu at her table. Every time he came outside, be it to take my order or check on the other table, she would ask for salt or ask a simple question. She ate the nachos slowly and did not seem to be in any rush.
Halfway through my meal, I looked up to see her walking my way with her chips in one hand and her glass of water in the other. She had removed her hat and was now wearing round, rimless glasses that had bifocal lenses. Her blond hair laid flat against her forehead with choppy layers that appeared to have thinned out around her ears and neckline. She had a combination of a mullet and pixie all in one. Her dark sweatshirt was just a tab too big and she wore blue, printed pants and tennis shoes.
“Do you mind if I join you?” she asked.
“No, have a seat,” I replied. The table of three stopped their conversation and glanced at me, then glanced at the woman then back to me again. I moved my plates around on the table so she could sit her basket of chips down along with her glass of water.
“Iwaslonelyandthoughtsinceyouareherealoneyoumightwantsomecompany,” She ran all of her words together as if she had to get the sentence out in one breath. “You don’t look lonely but since I am, I figured you would be okay with me sitting with you.”
The table of three quickly gathered their items and got up to leave. They bid farewell to Pepper and gave me a wave goodbye.
“What’s that your eating?” she asked.
“Just a salad and some plantains and black beans,” I said. “Have you eaten here before?”
“No. I’m still deciding what I want. I’m not really hungry. At least, I don’t think I am. I was eating these nachos but asked him for some salt. He still hasn’t brought it. What are plantains?”
“They’re kind of like bananas but these are fried.”
“I’m Suzanne. S-U-Z-A-N-N-E. What’s your name?”
She asked me mid-bite so my response was muffled.
“Do you live near here?” she asked.
“Yes.” She stared at me as if she was waiting for me to say more. She glanced at my backpack in the chair to my right, her left. I cleared my throat, “I live right off of Port Chicago Highway.”
“How much do you pay?”
“Well, that’s kind of a personal question,” I said with a smile.
“I don’t mean to be personal. My daughter was paying $2000 a month in Walnut Creek which I thought was way too expensive. I’m just lonely so I may say some inappropriate things. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” I replied.
“Too busy?” I appreciated that my schedule was her first guess as to why I’m single. Suzanne made a better assumption than most people I know.
“Not really. Just waiting on the right one to find me.”
She fired more questions my way about where I work and what I like to do. I responded and she nodded slowly while running her eyes all over me. The server came by and dropped off my bill. I took my wallet out of my bag and pulled out my credit card to pay. She glanced at my backpack again then picked around in her basket of chips. I took all the cash out of my wallet while she was looking down and stuffed it in my pocket before putting my wallet back in my backpack.
The server asked if we needed anything else and she asked for the salt again.
“Oh, I brought it to your table before you moved over here.” He grabbed the salt shaker from her table and handed it to her. She started shaking it vigorously over her chips and started talking again.
“I had some fresh bass down in Tijuana but it was a tourist spot. My ex-husband worked for the airlines so we got to travel all over for practically free. I hope you don’t mind me sitting with you. I just want someone to talk to. I’ve been like this for about a year and am starting to get really lonely. I saw you sitting over here and thought you would want to talk to me. You don’t look lonely but I just don’t get to talk to people very often.”
“I don’t mind. Did you want to order anything else to eat?” I started scraping the remainder of my meal into my to-go container. “Would you like the rest of this? I’m not going to eat it?”
She looked at it then shrugged and nodded while taking the container, “I’ll just use use your fork.” She motioned her hand for me to pass her my fork and began to pick around in the container. She took a bite then added more salt. She even attempted to unscrew the top of the salt shaker to get more out.
“You might also like these plantains. Have the last two,” I said and scooted the plate closer to her side of the table. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else to eat?”
“Are plantains really big? I think I’ve seen those at the grocery store. I was staying with my daughter out in Brentwood but decided a year ago that I didn’t want to live there anymore and packed a suitcase and left. Just left. I thought it would be a good idea to travel wherever I wanted to go and have some freedom. Now, I guess I didn’t realize that I would get lonely. I should have stayed.”
“You don’t want to go back to live with your daughter?” I asked.
“She won’t let me.” She started to eat again and that’s when I realized that she didn’t have any teeth on the bottom row of her mouth. She looked off in the distance as she chewed and picked back up where she left off. “I assume it’s because of my drinking. I started drinking again to numb the pain.” She mentioned some term that was as she put it, “in English” another way to say her spinal cord is deteriorating. I’m pretty sure what she said didn’t have anything to do with a spinal cord injury but I didn’t bother interrupting to ask her the name of her prognosis again.
“I had a drink once, some sangria, right after I got out of the hospital and immediately threw it all up. I just told the bartender that I had no business drinking because I’ve been sick. Thankfully, he didn’t make me pay for it. What is in this salad?”
I attempted to respond but before I could fully say “carnitas,” she was talking again.
“It looks like beef. I used to be a mortgage broker and I was good at it too. I need to get back to work soon. I haven’t really recovered from my job loss in 2008. I had a great job. Making six-figures. I didn’t realize that I would need it then. My son-in-law tried to get the banks to reduce what I owed on the house. That’s when they lived in Walnut Creek, where my daughter was raised. They moved to Concord and then to Brentwood. I was in AA but then, when I got injured, I couldn’t stand the pain so I started drinking again. I know I shouldn’t have but I thought I could handle it. I’m trying to quit now. I love the beach. I didn’t care much for LA in general but I loved the beaches. I think I’m depressed. I sound depressed, don’t I? You can hear it in my voice. I think it got worse when I stopped taking my medicine years ago.”
I nodded and said “uh huh” and “really?” in the right places as she continued to discuss her back injuries, buying make-up and different locations she has visited throughout California. As she spoke, I asked God what He wanted me to do in this situation and what I was supposed to say. I didn’t want to make any assumptions but my heart went out to her. Her demeanor was almost childlike and in complete contrast to how she looked. Her skin had lines and wrinkles as if she spent years in the sun and the lines around her mouth hinted that she possibly spent the same amount of time smoking. Her blonde hair had heavy strands of silver blended in and her right eyelid drooped slightly. I silently asked the Lord to give me words and to guide me in this situation and that’s when he told me to just be still and listen.
She went on to discuss her experiences in AA, how she can’t get in at the nice rehabs and how she doesn’t like to sleep on the street. She complimented me on my skin and discussed the new stores that have recently opened up. She even went on to discuss the importance of having dogs and what type of dogs she grew up with. She would stop talking only to put food in her mouth or ask for a napkin. She emptied the remainder chips in her basket on top of the salad and closed the container. I took that as my cue that she was done.
“Suzanne, we’re about to go but do you mind if I pray for you?”
“Sure,” show bowed her head and closed her eyes.
I prayed and asked the Lord to cover her and remind her of whose she is and give her hope and healing. I peeked through one eye to see how she was responding and she had a slight smile on her face with her head bowed.
As I finished, I I took the cash out of my pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes lit up but she hesitated to take it.
“I didn’t come over here for that. I just wanted some company,” she said.
“I know Suzanne. I want to give it to you.” I placed the money on the table and stood up to gather my things and untie Pepper’s leash. “Thank you for coming over.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly as she watched me walk away.
I’m not sure why God had us cross paths that night. And it doesn’t really matter. There are times when we can bless others and it may come in forms that we didn’t expect. This was my time and I hope His light shined bright.