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The Name on the Board
Rosa opened the cafe before Neil did, because the board in the window was wrong and anyone on the pavement could read it. In his large chalk letters it carried her grandmother's name and the name of the stew. The pot on the stove already had cream in it. Neil liked the name, because people stopped for it. He had softened the stew for the lunch crowd. Rosa wanted her grandmother's name off that board unless the cream came out.
He was wiping tables. She picked up the cloth for the board and nodded at the glass.
"That is not her stew," she said. "Sell what you made. Do not put her name on it."
Neil kept wiping. He had hoped the open sign would end this talk before it started.
"They ask for it by her name," he said.