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Description
After getting off work Robert Cowden calls his older sister Kimberly from their parents' house. The place feels nothing but cold and empty to Robert ever since his mother's death, but he tries not to let his sister notice.
"I'll sort through the stuff in the basement for now and see what Cynthia and I could use. Anything else I can probably sell or give it away," Robert says, phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he rifles through the pantry looking for rotten food. Anything he finds is dumped into the compost bin.
"I don't know why you bother," Kimberly replies with a stifled yawn. With a six hour time difference and still coming off the jet lag, she honestly wishes that her brother had deigned to phone her earlier in the day. "The whole 'one man's trash is another man's treasure' thing only goes so far."
"Well it couldn't hurt."
"Whatever you say; you're in charge after all. Speaking of which, I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
"It's fine. You have to take care of Callum after all."
"I guess. It's just that…I feel kind of bad leaving my kid brother to do all the work. Did Scott leave already?"
"Yeah, business called as usual. He said that he'd take care of all the paperwork though as long as I fax it to him. Which is good, mind, because of all people the lawyer of the family should be able to take care of things."
"Mm, that's true."
This time Kimberly fails to stifle the next yawn.
"Oh, sorry Kimmie! I shouldn't keep you up. Listen, Scott and I will take care of things and I promise I won't touch your old stuff."
"Yeah, you better not. Night, Bobby. Or, afternoon I guess."
"Bye, Kimmie."
Robert hangs up the phone and makes his way down to the basement where all the unused and broken furniture is hiding. He stops to run his hand across an old wooden table that used to sit up in the kitchen, but abruptly jerks his hand away when his fingers are coated with dust. Carefully he examines the furniture and to his content he finds a lot that he could sell right away, and what he can't he thinks he can fix or at least use for firewood. In the back of the basement tucked away beside an old gramophone he finds three old retro style bar stools. He smiles to himself, remembering how Kimberly used to force her kid brothers into playing restaurant with her using no tables, only the stools. Now, around fifty years later and living in the age of sleek metallic designs, he wonders what possessed his parents to purchase bar stools of that particular colour. With some distaste he realizes that the cushions are the same green as the felt on pool tables. Regardless of the colour Robert decides that the bar stools are in good shape and could probably go for a decent price on the market. He makes a mental note to check how much classified ads cost.

The next day Robert is steadily ploughing through another ream of magazine articles when the phone rings. He picks up the receiver, wondering if it's work again wanting to add yet another thing for him to edit.
"Robert Cowden speaking."
"Hi, are you the one who put an ad in the paper for the retro bar stools?" a female voice, young and full of energy, asks.
"Yes I am. I take it you're interested?"
"Yeah, um, I was actually thinking of buying them all if you don't mind."
"Oh, that's no problem with me. I guess…they're at my parents' house right now, actually. If you don't mind going there you can have a look and see if you like them."
"Sounds good! Is around two o'clock this Saturday fine?"
"Sure, that works. I'll give you the address. Do you have a pen handy?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
"It's on 4933 North Street. There's a large maple tree planted out front."
"Great, thanks. I'll see you then. Bye."
"Good bye."
Robert waits for the dial tone to sound before hanging up. He can't help but feel a little happy that he found a buyer, but at the same time he wonders why she would want a set of retro bar stools.

A few days later Robert waits on the porch of his parents' house when a dark blue mini-van pulls up in front of the house. A slender young woman, barely into her mid-twenties at most, dressed in colourful clothing and with a blonde ponytail swinging about her shoulders steps out of the van. For a moment Robert feels a bit self-conscious about how he looks in comparison. He's always been a rather portly man, and age has not been kind to his head of still rapidly thinning brown hair. The woman looks up at Robert and waves.
"Are you Mr. Cowden?" she calls out.
"Yeah, that's me."
The woman grins and walks up to him, taking the porch steps two at a time.
"Hi, I'm Lauren Anson. I'm here to buy your bar stools?"
"Robert Cowden, but I guess you knew that already. Yeah, I just moved them into the foyer."
Robert opens the front door for Lauren and the two step into the house. The three bar stools sit in the middle of the room and Lauren immediately goes over to look at them.
"Oh, these are perfect! And only thirty dollars each?"
"Yeah. I have some other stuff in the basement if you want to have a look. Uh, I promise I'm not trying to lure you down there or anything though. It's just that I'm trying to get rid of my parents' old stuff."
"Actually, do you happen to have an old juke box lying around? It doesn't have to work, I just want it for the decoration."
"Um…I have a gramophone."
"Oh, sorry. That's a little more dated than I really need. I'm looking for things that are more retro era. Think the fifties."
"Wow, that's even before my time. Um, no offence but you don't really look like a fifties woman."
"Oh, no! My friend and I are starting up a sort of retro diner, so naturally we want it to look as authentic as possible. It was something my grandmother used to do actually before she sold the business, and since there aren't any more old diners around we figured there wouldn't be much competition. We'll be using my grandmother's authentic recipes, so at the very least I promise the food will be good."
"Hey, maybe I'll drop by when you open. I haven't been at a diner since I was a kid."
"That'd be nice. Anyway, so that's ninety dollars I owe you?"
"Yeah."
Lauren takes out her wallet and thumbs through some bills before handing Robert ninety dollars in twenties and tens. In return he helps her load the stools into the back of the mini-van, and with one last cheerful wave she drives away. Robert meant what he said about dropping by at the diner, thinking that a bout of nostalgia could do him some good.

A few months later Robert catches up with his girlfriend Cynthia at a French café during their lunch break. Neither of them have any kids, and they know better than to think that they could now, but the two like the thought of having finally found true love. As a result the time they spend together is more often than not a kindling of a youthful spark.
"I heard there's going to be a new diner opening," Cynthia mentions before sipping at the last dregs of coffee.
"I almost forgot about that. I actually sold some bar stools to the owner a few months ago."
"Yeah? Well then we have to check it out! You know, I really hope they play some of those old hits. To be honest I just adore Dream Lover."
"Bobby Darin?" Robert guesses, unsure of how exactly he still remembered that.
"That's the one."
To fill the pause in conversation the two take the time to examine each other. They take in each contour and line, revelling in everything that makes the other the person who they are. They don't notice the waiter's smile, satisfied by the sight of two lovers, as he clears the table next to them.
"Well," Cynthia says abruptly, "I have to get back to work before my boss threatens to keep me in. Don't forget about that diner, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Robert replies as Cynthia leans over to kiss him.
He waits until she's out of sight before vacating the table, but instead of heading back to work as well he ducks into the nearest outlet mall. Unaccustomed to the busy mid-day crowds it takes him a while to find the store he's looking for, and when he does he almost loses all courage.
"Can I help you? Are you looking for a ring?" the salesperson asks.
Robert nods, his mouth dry, and self-consciously wipes the sweat off of his forehead.
"Yeah, I'm looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend."

That afternoon Robert lays down on his couch, holding the ring up to examine it in the light. It cost him a small fortune, but he knows for a fact that if Cynthia says yes then it will be worth every penny. The phone rings, snapping him out of his daydream, and Robert hastily tucks the ring back into its box before picking up the receiver.
"Robert Cowden speaking."
"Bobby?" a male voice asks.
"Scott! Hey man, what's up?"
"Uh…listen…there's been—"
Robert's older brother cuts himself off with a choking sob and Robert's heart sinks.
"Scott. What happened?"
"There was—Oh, Jesus Christ—there was this car accident and…kid…Kimmie's dead."
The receiver falls from Robert's hand, hitting the floor with a hollow thunk. It takes him a moment to scramble it off the ground.
"You're shitting me."
"I wish I was, little brother."
"Shit. Oh, shit!"
He covers his mouth with one hand, refusing to cry because he didn't cry when his mother died or even when his father did before her. But a sob escapes and Robert presses the receiver into his chest in hopes that Scott doesn't hear. He removes it when he hears his brother's muffled voice.
"Sorry?" he says, his voice cracking.
"Listen, I know it's a little soon but…Callum. Callum's still in school. Undergrad school, Bobby! And you and I know Chris is going to take it hard." Robert wants to ask if that means they're not supposed to take it hard. "I just thought that you and I could scrape together a bit of money to keep putting Callum through school. I have money, you all know that, so I could do it all on my own but I was just thinking that you might want to put in a little something. You know, like a good will thing. For Kimmie, right?"
"Yeah, right."
A dead silence consumes the brothers filled only by the sounds of heavy breathing as they try their hardest not to lose it.
"Listen," Robert says after a while, "you e-mail me the details and I'll see what I can throw in. I just…"
"Yeah, yeah. Of course."
"Cool. Um…I love you, Scott."
"Love you too, kiddo."
There's another long pause as they both wait for the other to hang up first, and in the end Scott relents and the dial tone sounds on Robert's end. He moves to hang up the phone, but changes his mind and leaves the receiver off instead. There's a moment of liquid rage that consumes him, but even before the first strike grief takes over and Robert's body gives out as he collapses sobbing into his hands.
"Shit, Kimmie…shit…"

"I know you're still upset, and I understand that," Cynthia says, arm stubbornly linked with Robert's because she fears that he might try to run off again. "It's just that you need to keep living. That's why we're at the diner, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Robert mutters.
He reaches into his pocket and secretly feels for the diamond ring, turning it over and over again between his fingers. It's been five months since he bought that ring. Five months since his sister's funeral, a call from his brother, and a car accident he wished had never happened.
Cynthia frowns worriedly at her boyfriend but says nothing.
"Hello, and welcome!" the teenaged hostess, all dressed up in a light pink diner uniform, says with a cheerful smile. "Table for two?"
"Yes please," Cynthia says.
"Right this way."
Cynthia leads Robert after the hostess who pointedly pretends not to notice the man's depression. The couple is seated at a booth by the window with the hostess carrying on like nothing is wrong.
"Samantha will be your server today. Enjoy your meal."
"Thank you."
The two open their menus, though for Robert it's really more of a formality than anything. Cynthia notices with some distaste that there aren't a lot of low-fat items on the menu, not that she expected anything less at a diner. Yet she thinks that it might be a good thing considering how Robert has lost an almost dangerous amount of weight since Kimberly's death. Yes he was always going on about how fat he felt sometimes, but this was hardly the way to do things.
"Cynthia?" Robert says. "I'm just going to go to the washroom. You go ahead and order. I'll just have some French toast if that's okay."
"Oh, sure. Are you all right?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just going to freshen up a bit I guess."
Robert stands up and makes his way to the back of the diner and ducks into the men's washroom. He rests against the sink for a while staring at himself in the mirror. Then, mostly on a whim, he reaches into his pocket and feels for the diamond ring. He thinks about how Kimberly looked on the day of her wedding, and wonders if Cynthia will look even more beautiful because she'd be his bride. He thinks about how it could have been him who died in an accident instead of Kimberly, and wonders why it wasn't. He thinks about how Callum is living without a mother, and wonders if he would settle for a better uncle instead. Finally, with courage in his heart and most of the grief pushed away, he steps back into the diner and nearly runs into Lauren as she rushes past.
"Oh! Sorry!" the woman exclaims before recognizing the man. "Hey, you're Mr. Cowden, right? You sold me the bar stools, remember?"
"I remember. It seems like this place is really taking off."
Lauren looks over at the busy restaurant, taking it all in the for the first time that day, and allows herself to feel a tiny bit of pride.
"Yeah, it's really been something lately."
"Oh, actually, I was wondering if you would do me a favour."
"Hm? What kind of favour?"
"Do you happen to have Bobby Darin's Dream Lover handy to play over the speakers?"
Lauren gives Robert a wry look and places her hands on her hips.
"Really? Is that a trick question?"
"Oh. Well, do you mind playing it like…sometime soon I guess?"
"Sure. Why not? I'll play it when the next song's over."
"Great, thank you. Oh, and congrats on the business."
With a smile Lauren leaves Robert to return to overseeing the restaurant, making sure that everything runs absolutely perfectly. Robert lingers for a moment to build up his courage before returning to the table where Cynthia brightens at the sight of his better mood.
"You look…well, frankly speaking, great. You okay now?"
"Yeah. I feel much better actually."
"Every night I hope and pray a dream lover will come my way."
Cynthia raises a hand to hush Robert as she recognizes the song that starts to play. A wide grin spreads across her face as she realizes what it is.
"Is that Dream Lover? It is!"
"I want a dream lover so I don't have to dream alone."
Robert smiles as she sings along, not caring who hears. He reaches into his pocket and feels for the diamond ring.
"Cynthia? There's something I wanted to ask you."
She looks over at him, half listening to the song and half listening to him. Robert slides out of the booth and kneels down on one knee, careful not to block the aisle. The people around them stop what they're doing and turn to watch. From across the diner Lauren stands up on the tips of her toes to get a better look.
"And I hand that can hold, to feel you near as I grow old?"
"Cynthia, will you marry me?"
The woman smiles and laughs just briefly, but out of delirium and mocking. She covers her mouth with one hand and wonders why she's crying.
"Yes, yes, Robert I will marry you."
Robert grins and almost bursts out laughing as well, but manages to contain himself as he takes Cynthia's left hand. Carefully he slides the ring onto her finger, but only gets halfway before he finds himself in her arms and caught up in her kiss. They don't notice everyone in the diner bursting out in cheers.
"That's the only thing to do, till all my lover's dreams come true."

Description
After getting off work Robert Cowden calls his older sister Kimberly from their parents' house. The place feels nothing but cold and empty to Robert ever since his mother's death, but he tries not to let his sister notice.
"I'll sort through the stuff in the basement for now and see what Cynthia and I could use. Anything else I can probably sell or give it away," Robert says, phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he rifles through the pantry looking for rotten food. Anything he finds is dumped into the compost bin.
"I don't know why you bother," Kimberly replies with a stifled yawn. With a six hour time difference and still coming off the jet lag, she honestly wishes that her brother had deigned to phone her earlier in the day. "The whole 'one man's trash is another man's treasure' thing only goes so far."
"Well it couldn't hurt."
"Whatever you say; you're in charge after all. Speaking of which, I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
"It's fine. You have to take care of Callum after all."
"I guess. It's just that…I feel kind of bad leaving my kid brother to do all the work. Did Scott leave already?"
"Yeah, business called as usual. He said that he'd take care of all the paperwork though as long as I fax it to him. Which is good, mind, because of all people the lawyer of the family should be able to take care of things."
"Mm, that's true."
This time Kimberly fails to stifle the next yawn.
"Oh, sorry Kimmie! I shouldn't keep you up. Listen, Scott and I will take care of things and I promise I won't touch your old stuff."
"Yeah, you better not. Night, Bobby. Or, afternoon I guess."
"Bye, Kimmie."
Robert hangs up the phone and makes his way down to the basement where all the unused and broken furniture is hiding. He stops to run his hand across an old wooden table that used to sit up in the kitchen, but abruptly jerks his hand away when his fingers are coated with dust. Carefully he examines the furniture and to his content he finds a lot that he could sell right away, and what he can't he thinks he can fix or at least use for firewood. In the back of the basement tucked away beside an old gramophone he finds three old retro style bar stools. He smiles to himself, remembering how Kimberly used to force her kid brothers into playing restaurant with her using no tables, only the stools. Now, around fifty years later and living in the age of sleek metallic designs, he wonders what possessed his parents to purchase bar stools of that particular colour. With some distaste he realizes that the cushions are the same green as the felt on pool tables. Regardless of the colour Robert decides that the bar stools are in good shape and could probably go for a decent price on the market. He makes a mental note to check how much classified ads cost.

The next day Robert is steadily ploughing through another ream of magazine articles when the phone rings. He picks up the receiver, wondering if it's work again wanting to add yet another thing for him to edit.
"Robert Cowden speaking."
"Hi, are you the one who put an ad in the paper for the retro bar stools?" a female voice, young and full of energy, asks.
"Yes I am. I take it you're interested?"
"Yeah, um, I was actually thinking of buying them all if you don't mind."
"Oh, that's no problem with me. I guess…they're at my parents' house right now, actually. If you don't mind going there you can have a look and see if you like them."
"Sounds good! Is around two o'clock this Saturday fine?"
"Sure, that works. I'll give you the address. Do you have a pen handy?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
"It's on 4933 North Street. There's a large maple tree planted out front."
"Great, thanks. I'll see you then. Bye."
"Good bye."
Robert waits for the dial tone to sound before hanging up. He can't help but feel a little happy that he found a buyer, but at the same time he wonders why she would want a set of retro bar stools.

A few days later Robert waits on the porch of his parents' house when a dark blue mini-van pulls up in front of the house. A slender young woman, barely into her mid-twenties at most, dressed in colourful clothing and with a blonde ponytail swinging about her shoulders steps out of the van. For a moment Robert feels a bit self-conscious about how he looks in comparison. He's always been a rather portly man, and age has not been kind to his head of still rapidly thinning brown hair. The woman looks up at Robert and waves.
"Are you Mr. Cowden?" she calls out.
"Yeah, that's me."
The woman grins and walks up to him, taking the porch steps two at a time.
"Hi, I'm Lauren Anson. I'm here to buy your bar stools?"
"Robert Cowden, but I guess you knew that already. Yeah, I just moved them into the foyer."
Robert opens the front door for Lauren and the two step into the house. The three bar stools sit in the middle of the room and Lauren immediately goes over to look at them.
"Oh, these are perfect! And only thirty dollars each?"
"Yeah. I have some other stuff in the basement if you want to have a look. Uh, I promise I'm not trying to lure you down there or anything though. It's just that I'm trying to get rid of my parents' old stuff."
"Actually, do you happen to have an old juke box lying around? It doesn't have to work, I just want it for the decoration."
"Um…I have a gramophone."
"Oh, sorry. That's a little more dated than I really need. I'm looking for things that are more retro era. Think the fifties."
"Wow, that's even before my time. Um, no offence but you don't really look like a fifties woman."
"Oh, no! My friend and I are starting up a sort of retro diner, so naturally we want it to look as authentic as possible. It was something my grandmother used to do actually before she sold the business, and since there aren't any more old diners around we figured there wouldn't be much competition. We'll be using my grandmother's authentic recipes, so at the very least I promise the food will be good."
"Hey, maybe I'll drop by when you open. I haven't been at a diner since I was a kid."
"That'd be nice. Anyway, so that's ninety dollars I owe you?"
"Yeah."
Lauren takes out her wallet and thumbs through some bills before handing Robert ninety dollars in twenties and tens. In return he helps her load the stools into the back of the mini-van, and with one last cheerful wave she drives away. Robert meant what he said about dropping by at the diner, thinking that a bout of nostalgia could do him some good.

A few months later Robert catches up with his girlfriend Cynthia at a French café during their lunch break. Neither of them have any kids, and they know better than to think that they could now, but the two like the thought of having finally found true love. As a result the time they spend together is more often than not a kindling of a youthful spark.
"I heard there's going to be a new diner opening," Cynthia mentions before sipping at the last dregs of coffee.
"I almost forgot about that. I actually sold some bar stools to the owner a few months ago."
"Yeah? Well then we have to check it out! You know, I really hope they play some of those old hits. To be honest I just adore Dream Lover."
"Bobby Darin?" Robert guesses, unsure of how exactly he still remembered that.
"That's the one."
To fill the pause in conversation the two take the time to examine each other. They take in each contour and line, revelling in everything that makes the other the person who they are. They don't notice the waiter's smile, satisfied by the sight of two lovers, as he clears the table next to them.
"Well," Cynthia says abruptly, "I have to get back to work before my boss threatens to keep me in. Don't forget about that diner, okay?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," Robert replies as Cynthia leans over to kiss him.
He waits until she's out of sight before vacating the table, but instead of heading back to work as well he ducks into the nearest outlet mall. Unaccustomed to the busy mid-day crowds it takes him a while to find the store he's looking for, and when he does he almost loses all courage.
"Can I help you? Are you looking for a ring?" the salesperson asks.
Robert nods, his mouth dry, and self-consciously wipes the sweat off of his forehead.
"Yeah, I'm looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend."

That afternoon Robert lays down on his couch, holding the ring up to examine it in the light. It cost him a small fortune, but he knows for a fact that if Cynthia says yes then it will be worth every penny. The phone rings, snapping him out of his daydream, and Robert hastily tucks the ring back into its box before picking up the receiver.
"Robert Cowden speaking."
"Bobby?" a male voice asks.
"Scott! Hey man, what's up?"
"Uh…listen…there's been—"
Robert's older brother cuts himself off with a choking sob and Robert's heart sinks.
"Scott. What happened?"
"There was—Oh, Jesus Christ—there was this car accident and…kid…Kimmie's dead."
The receiver falls from Robert's hand, hitting the floor with a hollow thunk. It takes him a moment to scramble it off the ground.
"You're shitting me."
"I wish I was, little brother."
"Shit. Oh, shit!"
He covers his mouth with one hand, refusing to cry because he didn't cry when his mother died or even when his father did before her. But a sob escapes and Robert presses the receiver into his chest in hopes that Scott doesn't hear. He removes it when he hears his brother's muffled voice.
"Sorry?" he says, his voice cracking.
"Listen, I know it's a little soon but…Callum. Callum's still in school. Undergrad school, Bobby! And you and I know Chris is going to take it hard." Robert wants to ask if that means they're not supposed to take it hard. "I just thought that you and I could scrape together a bit of money to keep putting Callum through school. I have money, you all know that, so I could do it all on my own but I was just thinking that you might want to put in a little something. You know, like a good will thing. For Kimmie, right?"
"Yeah, right."
A dead silence consumes the brothers filled only by the sounds of heavy breathing as they try their hardest not to lose it.
"Listen," Robert says after a while, "you e-mail me the details and I'll see what I can throw in. I just…"
"Yeah, yeah. Of course."
"Cool. Um…I love you, Scott."
"Love you too, kiddo."
There's another long pause as they both wait for the other to hang up first, and in the end Scott relents and the dial tone sounds on Robert's end. He moves to hang up the phone, but changes his mind and leaves the receiver off instead. There's a moment of liquid rage that consumes him, but even before the first strike grief takes over and Robert's body gives out as he collapses sobbing into his hands.
"Shit, Kimmie…shit…"

"I know you're still upset, and I understand that," Cynthia says, arm stubbornly linked with Robert's because she fears that he might try to run off again. "It's just that you need to keep living. That's why we're at the diner, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Robert mutters.
He reaches into his pocket and secretly feels for the diamond ring, turning it over and over again between his fingers. It's been five months since he bought that ring. Five months since his sister's funeral, a call from his brother, and a car accident he wished had never happened.
Cynthia frowns worriedly at her boyfriend but says nothing.
"Hello, and welcome!" the teenaged hostess, all dressed up in a light pink diner uniform, says with a cheerful smile. "Table for two?"
"Yes please," Cynthia says.
"Right this way."
Cynthia leads Robert after the hostess who pointedly pretends not to notice the man's depression. The couple is seated at a booth by the window with the hostess carrying on like nothing is wrong.
"Samantha will be your server today. Enjoy your meal."
"Thank you."
The two open their menus, though for Robert it's really more of a formality than anything. Cynthia notices with some distaste that there aren't a lot of low-fat items on the menu, not that she expected anything less at a diner. Yet she thinks that it might be a good thing considering how Robert has lost an almost dangerous amount of weight since Kimberly's death. Yes he was always going on about how fat he felt sometimes, but this was hardly the way to do things.
"Cynthia?" Robert says. "I'm just going to go to the washroom. You go ahead and order. I'll just have some French toast if that's okay."
"Oh, sure. Are you all right?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just going to freshen up a bit I guess."
Robert stands up and makes his way to the back of the diner and ducks into the men's washroom. He rests against the sink for a while staring at himself in the mirror. Then, mostly on a whim, he reaches into his pocket and feels for the diamond ring. He thinks about how Kimberly looked on the day of her wedding, and wonders if Cynthia will look even more beautiful because she'd be his bride. He thinks about how it could have been him who died in an accident instead of Kimberly, and wonders why it wasn't. He thinks about how Callum is living without a mother, and wonders if he would settle for a better uncle instead. Finally, with courage in his heart and most of the grief pushed away, he steps back into the diner and nearly runs into Lauren as she rushes past.
"Oh! Sorry!" the woman exclaims before recognizing the man. "Hey, you're Mr. Cowden, right? You sold me the bar stools, remember?"
"I remember. It seems like this place is really taking off."
Lauren looks over at the busy restaurant, taking it all in the for the first time that day, and allows herself to feel a tiny bit of pride.
"Yeah, it's really been something lately."
"Oh, actually, I was wondering if you would do me a favour."
"Hm? What kind of favour?"
"Do you happen to have Bobby Darin's Dream Lover handy to play over the speakers?"
Lauren gives Robert a wry look and places her hands on her hips.
"Really? Is that a trick question?"
"Oh. Well, do you mind playing it like…sometime soon I guess?"
"Sure. Why not? I'll play it when the next song's over."
"Great, thank you. Oh, and congrats on the business."
With a smile Lauren leaves Robert to return to overseeing the restaurant, making sure that everything runs absolutely perfectly. Robert lingers for a moment to build up his courage before returning to the table where Cynthia brightens at the sight of his better mood.
"You look…well, frankly speaking, great. You okay now?"
"Yeah. I feel much better actually."
"Every night I hope and pray a dream lover will come my way."
Cynthia raises a hand to hush Robert as she recognizes the song that starts to play. A wide grin spreads across her face as she realizes what it is.
"Is that Dream Lover? It is!"
"I want a dream lover so I don't have to dream alone."
Robert smiles as she sings along, not caring who hears. He reaches into his pocket and feels for the diamond ring.
"Cynthia? There's something I wanted to ask you."
She looks over at him, half listening to the song and half listening to him. Robert slides out of the booth and kneels down on one knee, careful not to block the aisle. The people around them stop what they're doing and turn to watch. From across the diner Lauren stands up on the tips of her toes to get a better look.
"And I hand that can hold, to feel you near as I grow old?"
"Cynthia, will you marry me?"
The woman smiles and laughs just briefly, but out of delirium and mocking. She covers her mouth with one hand and wonders why she's crying.
"Yes, yes, Robert I will marry you."
Robert grins and almost bursts out laughing as well, but manages to contain himself as he takes Cynthia's left hand. Carefully he slides the ring onto her finger, but only gets halfway before he finds himself in her arms and caught up in her kiss. They don't notice everyone in the diner bursting out in cheers.
"That's the only thing to do, till all my lover's dreams come true."