Joan had been hoping John saw what she saw, or was even equally aware of those flickers in the corner of his eye. But his answer wasn't what she hoped. If she was the only one seeing things...then maybe it was all in her head. Her mind playing tricks on her, trying to fill in blank spots left by the beginnings of the disease that was slowly claiming her mother.
The bartender slides her drink to her, and Joan thanks him and turns to John, lifting her glass in a toast.