The café hummed with the noise of mid-morning — dishes clinking, silverware scraping plates, the low static of a radio no one really listened to.

Johnny stood near the kitchen, stiff in his new apron, eyes scanning the place like he was memorizing it. First day on the outside. First day in here.

She noticed him hovering, unsure of where to go. Her tray was loaded with coffee cups, hands trembling just a little — they always did when things got too quiet in her head.

He caught her glance and offered a small smile. “Hey. I’m—uh—Johnny. I’m supposed to start today?”

She nodded quickly, balancing the tray. “Yeah. I figured. You look kinda… new.”

He gave a soft laugh, more out of nerves than amusement. “That obvious?”

“A little.” Her voice was quiet, but not unkind. “The apron’s still white.”

He looked down at it and gave a sheepish shrug. “Guess that won’t last long.”

She smiled at that, just barely. Then looked down, shifting her weight. “Nick’s in the back. H’ll show you the kitchen.”

“Thanks.”

There was a pause. He didn’t walk away.

“You work here long?” he asked, gently.

She nodded. “A while. It’s… steady.”

He seemed to understand what that meant, maybe more than most would. “That’s good,” he said. “Steady’s good.”

She glanced at him again, more directly this time. There was something tired in his face, but open. Not soft, exactly — but not closed off either.

“People here are nice,” she offered. “Mostly.”

Johnny smiled. “That ‘mostly’ gives me a little warning. I’ll take it.”

She let out a quiet laugh, then turned, stepping back into the rhythm of the café. He watched her go for a moment, then made his way to the kitchen — already grateful someone had spoken to him like he was just a guy starting a job, and not a man starting over.