Dinner with the Quattlebaums

I wheeled and walked into Harrison, Arkansas.
Looking for a motel for the night, with storms threatening, I located one. Then I decided I was hungry, and went in search of Chinese food. I stopped a young couple in a van, with a single tooth between them, to ask about it, and they referred me to a restaurant right next to me. Master Chef was the name, but it featured a sombrero on the sign and I don’t like Mexican food. “Oh, they have other stuff too, not just Mexican.” I figured I’d give it a go. The motel was across the street, up a very steep incline, and Id check in after dinner.
Parking my cart outside, I walked in , sweaty and tired. There was a line of people, and a very well groomed and handsome man was in front of me with his family. I felt a bit uncomfortable looking so raggedy compared to him and meekly apologized for my appearance. He asked me a few questions about my walk, and then asked me if I would allow him to buy me dinner. I told him that I would, but that it wasn’t necessary. He said that he wanted to do it, and that was that. His name is Rick Quattlebaum, and he is a banker. He invited me to join his family, a group of about seven or eight people, for dinner. They were celebrating his daughter’s high school graduation ( I am remiss here---I didn’t get her name) and were having dinner before the ceremony, which was scheduled for 7 pm.
The restaurant turned out to be very good, and ambience nice, but the best part of the experi ence wasn’t the free meal, or that ambience. It was being asked to join a family, strangers to me all, for a nice dinner, with real and genuine people and conversation, and laughs galore. It really was special and if the Quattlebaums are reading this somehow, I want to say “Thank you” again for a really special meal, and memory.