Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of "Tony's Trattoria" always brought a warmth to Eleanor's chest. It was more than just a place to eat; it was a sanctuary. The news, delivered with a sad tremble in Mrs. Petrocelli's voice, was like a physical blow. The restaurant was closing.

Eleanor felt a sudden weakness in her knees. She squeezed Mrs. Petrocelli's hand, her own fingers unconsciously tightening. "Oh, no," she breathed. The older woman's face was etched with worry. "The boys are losing their jobs, and… well, it’s just awful."

That night, Eleanor couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, replaying the last meal she had there, the way Tony always greeted her with a bear hug. She decided to go to Tony’s early the next day, and she would tell them what she was planning.