“You’re welcome to wait in the public seating area over by the elevators.”
I looked out through the doors. The public seating area was a row of hard orange plastic chairs bolted together. Every one of them was full. A young father was sitting at the end, holding a sleeping toddler against his chest. A woman was knitting. Two elderly men were standing beside the coffee machine because there was nowhere left to sit.
Grandma glanced toward them.
Then she looked back up at Kayla.
“Could I stay here just until the rain slows down?” she asked softly. “My knees aren’t what they used to be. I won’t bother anybody.”
Kayla shook her head.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Rules are rules.”
I felt my face get hot.
“Excuse me,” I said. I stood up. “She’s seventy-nine years old. There’s nowhere to sit out there. It’s half empty in here. What harm is it going to do if she sits in a chair for twenty minutes?”
