Soup, toast, tea.

At the bottom was a handwritten note from the waitress: A young woman with twins paid for his meal, though he returned her bill untouched to the tip jar after ordering.

I stared at it.

“He didn’t spend my ten dollars?”

“Not on himself,” Thomas said.

“He bought dinner on his own card.

He kept your bill for a while, then gave it to the waitress when she told him her daughter needed medicine.”

I laughed through sudden tears.