My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of burnt coffee, fried onions, and damp wool coats.

The dining room was crowded with the evening rush.

Heavy ceramic plates clattered loudly behind the long counter.

Gregory sat in the back corner booth holding a laminated menu.

Pamela sat next to him in a heavy cream sweater.

Dustin sat across from them, tapping at his phone screen with his thumbs.

I walked over and slid into the booth next to Dustin.

The vinyl seat was icy against my legs.