Alma seated us at the same table, the one with the plastic blue gingham tablecloth, it was the table by the window. And even though it had just been a few days since our last visit, it seemed like a month had passed.

“Y’all sit down now and let Alma take care of you. It’s an honor to have you folks back at Alma’s.”

We sat down and, as an elderly woman who appeared to be in her eighties brought a baby seat to our table, she said, “My goodness, you folks are the talk of the town. You and your baby Layla, well, it’s just all over town what happened out there on the farm. Is it true what old Sam is sayin’ ‘bout y’all and the baby? Is it true that your baby is an angel?”

Everyone in the restaurant had gathered around our table and, as I glanced a little nervously over at Maggie, I said, “Honestly, it all happened so fast.”

Just as I was about to try and explain what we were still trying to understand ourselves, Alma came out of the kitchen and said in a booming voice, “Nadine! Leave these nice folks be! They been through enough without all y’all gawkin’ at them. Now sit down and let these people be!”