Across from her, Stuart stabbed at his Smartphone with thumbs. He’d pause, periodically, and rotate his wrist for a time check.
Mary’s hands now found her cloth napkin, tugged the corners, then wrung it over and over again.
Minutes seemed like hours passing.
When the waitress arrived with their meals, Mary and Stuart made eye contact then. Smiles softened their faces, relieved to occupy their mouths after their hands communicated all they had to say after 7 years of marriage.