Gemotions

The news hit Martha like a physical blow. "Mama Rosa's? Closing?" She reread the email, her fingers clenching the phone. It was preposterous. Mama Rosa's was an institution. How could it close?

A sharp pang went through her chest, a knot forming in her stomach. She’d always managed to secure a table, even when the wait was an hour. Now, she wouldn't even have the chance. The thought brought an unexpected flush to her cheeks. She pictured Sarah, probably already making reservations for the last week. That woman always got the best of everything.

"I need to call," Martha muttered, grabbing her purse and keys. She would make sure she got a table. She *deserved* a table.