The Empty Plate
I had spent my whole life setting the table for others and standing to serve.
I learned, that year, to sit down at it, and to eat.
Chapter 20 — The Empty Plate, Again
A year after the divorce, my company celebrated its tenth anniversary with a banquet at a fine restaurant.
My team was there, and my closest friends, and my father.
Paula sat to my right, and my father to my left, and I looked around a table full of people who were glad, genuinely glad, that I existed.
And then, before serving the main course, the waiter placed a polished, empty white plate in front of me.