“We make a pretty good team,” he tells me after taking a swig.
I take a gulp of soda and nod, offering a sincere smile.“Thank you for all this.It’s very kind of you.”
Sal waves a hand dismissively, but his eyes are warm.“De nada, de nada.Happy for the company.”
His kind reply brings a genuine smile to my face before I turn my full attention to the food.
The smell alone is restorative.
Smoky grilled meat, salty fries…
The aroma is so potent it makes my stomach clench with hunger.A hunger so deep I hadn’t even registered it until now.
I pick up the burger.It feels solid and warm in my hands, the bun yielding softly to the pressure of my fingertips.I take the first bite without hesitating.
Oh.My.God.
Juicy patty, perfectly charred edges, the freshness of the soft bun…
It’s uncomplicated yet deeply satisfying.
I take another bite almost immediately, then reach for a couple of thick-cut, perfectly crisped fries.
They crunch satisfyingly.
I close my eyes for just a second, savoring the simple perfection of hot food after a day fueled by little more than anxiety and strong coffee.This warmth and this simple deliciousness make me feel the most present I’ve felt all day.
“It never gets old seeing someone really enjoying my food,” Sal confesses, popping a few fries into his mouth.
“Best burger I’ve ever had!You must let me pay you for this.It’s my way of saying thank you,” I plead.
“No, don’t insult me,” he replies.
“Insult you?”My eyebrows shoot up.
“When you eat inside my truck with me, you’re no longer a customer.You’re my guest,” he explains with gentle warmth, disarming my protest.
“You’re very kind, thank you, Sal.”I offer him a grateful smile and take another bite.
“My pleasure,” he replies, taking a bite of his burger and following it with a long sip of Pepsi.
Sitting here with Sal, in this little pocket of unexpected kindness in a world that’s been feeling hostile lately, calms the anxiety that’s been churning inside all day.
He watches me as I tilt the can back and take a drink, his expression thoughtful.“So you work at a coffee shop?”
“I own one, actually,” I reply, picking up a fry.
Sal gives a short, appreciative chuckle.“Impressive.Here in downtown Madison?”He presses a finger on the stainless steel counter between us.
“State Street,” I nod, “Maddy’s Place.You should come visit with your wife.You’ll be my guests.”
“Gracias, thank you, but you don’t have to do that,” he replies, catching my meaning right away.
“It would be my pleasure,” I insist.
His smile widens as he places a hand over his heart in a genuine gesture of thanks.
“I can see it’s a lot of hard work,” he states, brow furrowing slightly.
