The Doctor, the Diner, and the Dream

The chime alerted Eleanor as the door flew open, and the roar of severe downpour interrupted the calm and quiet. She looked up from the counter where she sipped her coffee and played a game on her phone. The man who entered shook rain off his umbrella and examined his blazer. He trudged up the steps, and Eleanor pulled her mask over her nose.

Finally, a guest! She watched him saunter to the table in the corner, He’s been in here a lot lately.... And every. Single. Time at that table...

The worn-down diner, dingy from age, still held nostalgia and character the locals cherished. Six tables with high-backed, ruby-red bench seats lined the windows overlooking the sidewalk. Several red vinyl stools and a long-stretching counter with a built-in pie display divided the dining room from the kitchen. Behind the counter, the heated food window and swinging door disrupted the lines of old photos and quirky metal signs on the wall. From a few seats at the counter, you could see the back of the cook’s head as he grilled away at eggs and bacon Eleanor ordered a few seconds before the man appeared and sat down.

She swiped a menu off the counter by the register, and dashed to greet him as he settled in his seat, “Hi! My name is Eleanor, and I’ll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink this morning?”

The man looked up from his phone, and replied through his disposable mask, “A cup of black coffee, please.”

“Great! I’ll be right back, and I’ll bring you a water, too.” Eleanor left a coaster and hurried off to the drink station behind the counter. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she poured coffee into a cup on a saucer. His disheveled, gray-peppered hair hadn’t seen the barber in weeks, and his eyes appeared weary.

Upon returning to the table, she moved his drinks from her tray, and set silverware wrapped in a linen cloth near the edge of his placemat, “Here you go. What else can I get for you?”

“I’d like a slice of pumpkin pie, cold, with a little whipped cream on top, please,” he removed his mask, positioned it on the table near the window, and smiled at her.

“Sure thing!” Eleanor walked behind the counter, pulled a slice of pie on a cool plate from the display, and snapped up a can of whip cream. She trotted back to the table, vigorously shaking the whip. After carefully placing the plate on his placemat and adding a dollop on top of his pie, she remarked, “Crazy weather, right?”

“Oh...” He gazed out the window, “Yes. It’s really coming down...”

“I’ve seen you in here several times lately. Do you live in town?” She set the can of whip on the counter nearby.

“Mmm... I do not. I’ve been visiting my sister for a little while.”

She snapped her fingers, “That explains why I’ve seen you in here a lot. Were you already planning to visit before the pandemic?”

“Well, no... unfortunately, my sister got sick, so I came to visit. But I’ll be leaving to go home soon...” Cutting into his pie, he turned his head slightly, and with a serious look he redirected the conversation, “What about you? Have you been serving throughout the pandemic, or did this place allow indoor dining again once restrictions were lifted?”

“Me? No, I actually started working here not too long ago... maybe almost three months... But who’s counting? Anyway. Let’s see... When the city transitioned to lockdown, I was furloughed from my teaching position. Then, I applied for this serving job because it was the only steady work I could find after the city decided to open back up again. Honestly? I can’t wait to leave this place—I make enough to get by, even with limited seating, but I’m not sure it’s worth the stress of working for that guy,” she threw her head back slightly toward the food window to indicate she was speaking of the cook, “He owns the place and calls the shots, but he's miserable... And even though I enjoy talking to the people coming in here, I can’t wait to start my own practice.”

“Practice?” He inquired between another bite of pie and a hearty sip of coffee.

“Yes! I completed my Doctoral Program in Psychology during my first month here. I’d been teaching since I received my Master’s in Psychology about six years ago. And during my teaching, I completed online classes for my Doctorate. I’m currently saving up to open my own practice, but being furloughed definitely set me back for a little while...” she noticed his half-empty cup, “Oh gosh! Let me warm your coffee up!” Avoiding the long walk around the counter, she pushed the bottle of whip to the side, and steadied a stool nearby to hoist herself up, teetering on her stomach. She reached for a fresh pot from the burner, stepped down, and refilled his cup.

“Thank you, Eleanor...” After wiping his napkin from one corner of his mouth to the other, he continued, “So, you’re a doctor? Wow... that’s quite an accomplishment.”

She chuckled, and smugly replied, “Well, I can’t believe it myself. I worked so hard for so long.... It seems like a dream come true.” Her expression changed to a somber appearance as she continued, “I really want to make a difference. I’m hoping I can save up in time to take advantage of these commercial properties popping up downtown. It’s heartbreaking to see these businesses close, but I really want to create a place for people to find peace since more people are struggling with mental health these days. It seems everyone’s hurting, y’know?”

“Ah... yes,” He pulled out a little black notebook from his blazer’s hidden pocket, found a blank page, and said, “Listen... I’m a firm believer in manifesting your dreams through speaking them into existence. Do me a favor, and write down your name and the amount of money you’ve saved up on this page. I’d like to pray for you, and for your savings to multiply quickly. Y’know, so you can leave this place...” He pushed the notebook across the table towards her.

She squinted her eyes at him in confusion. Then, he turned his head toward the food window, winked—indicating he was speaking of the cook—and smirked.

“Oh... okay...” She looked over her shoulder to make sure her boss wasn’t watching, sat down, and took the notebook from him. Using a pen from her apron, she wrote down her name and the total in her savings account. She closed the notebook slowly, and slid it back to him.

“Thank you,” he nodded as he pushed the notebook beside his mask.

“Are you all finished then?” She asked, glancing at his crumb-sprinkled plate.

“Yes, it was delightful. Thank you... I’ll take the check, please.”

“Be right back,” she replied while topping off his coffee.

At the register, she calculated the total for his bill, Hmm... what an interesting man...

“Order up!” The cook slammed a plate in the food window.

“Well, that took long enough, Rick,” she mumbled as she pulled her breakfast from the heat, placing it on the counter next to her cup of cold coffee.

“Hey, you ain’t the priority here, Davidson,” he pointed his spatula at her and lowered his head in the window, “I don’t pay you to talk or eat.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes as she walked around the counter toward the man sitting at the corner table.

“What was that about?” He asked as she delivered the bill on a tray.

She shook her head and said, “Oh, Rick being Rick... But hey... Thank you for listening and for, uh, the prayer, I guess... I can take care of your bill up at the register when you’re ready.”

He reached for the wallet inside his jacket, “Thank you kindly.”

Eleanor sat behind the counter with her breakfast and coffee, and unlocked her phone to continue her game. A few minutes later, the man with the umbrella passed by and quickly spoke, “The rain stopped, so I’m heading out. It was lovely meeting you. No need for change—Thanks again!” He hopped down the steps and disappeared out the door.

Oh dear! I hope he didn’t stiff me! she thought as she hurried back to the table in the corner. Bills and coins lay on top of a folded sheet of paper in the tray. Eleanor counted as she picked up exact change.

Hmm... Interesting.

She picked up the folded paper resembling a page from the notebook in which she’d written. When she opened up the sheet, a personal check fell on the table. Eleanor covered her mouth to muffle an escaping gasp. Her name was written on the line as the recipient, and the amount of the check equaled $20,000. She looked out the window of the booth for her guest, but he was long gone. Looking back at the paper in her hand, she started reading the note he left:

Eleanor,

Thank you for talking to me today. I know it was a brief conversation, but I really needed to hear your story.

My sister, Sofia, who contracted COVID-19, became very ill due to complications in her lungs.

She was working from home ever since the lockdown happened, and began to suffer from her depression and loneliness. I blamed myself for not visiting more, but I’ve been very busy growing my company for the past 11 years. I thought calling and texting were sufficient to keep in touch, but I understand now that she needed more from her family and friends.

When the city opened back up, in her impatience, my sister decided to attend a gathering. I don't want to blame anyone for her tragedy, but she started showing symptoms shortly after attending.

I flew out as soon as I could. However, when I arrived here, the doctors barely let me see her. Unfortunately, she passed away a little over two weeks ago, and I’ve been handling her affairs since. Today was my last day here. I’ve got to go home and take care of my company, but I’ll be reassessing how I connect with others, and I’ll be making sure I carve out space and make time for people who are important to me.

Sofia always dreamed of giving to a worthy cause, and she left me plenty to carry out her wish. So, I’m matching your savings to help you start your practice... to help others find mental wellness, and peace. Your dream gives me hope.

You’re right... The entire world seems to hurt now more than ever, and I believe people like you can help us through it. I’ll be praying for you.

Sincerely, Raymond

Eleanor’s tears fell to the paper as she read Raymond’s words. Marching back to the register, she snatched her bag from under the counter, tucked the check inside a pocket, and untied her apron.

“Davidson!” Rick boomed, “I don’t pay you t’stand ‘round dirty tables neither!” Eleanor wadded up her apron, and launched it through the window at his sweaty face, “What the—?!” Rick's jaw dropped.

“I quit, De Santo!” She growled at him in fury, “You treat people like garbage, and people are not garbage!” She stormed out of the diner, stomping through shallow puddles down the sidewalk toward the parking garage. “Where’s that website...” she murmured, looking through browser windows on her phone, “There!” She selected a phone number, and brought the phone to her ear as it started ringing.

A click sounded as someone answered from the other end, “Thank you for calling Cedar Properties. How may I help you?”

“Hi! My name is Eleanor Davidson. I’m trying to reach Dean Wilson about a commercial property on Third and Courier... Is he available to show it today?”