The bell above the door chimed a happy tune, a man dressed in a light grey suit, with a dark tie and shoes. The diner was stuffy, which was surprising seeing as it’d been raining not too long ago. Sure, it was only a light drizzle, but rain none the less. That’s probably what he gets for living in Oregon, maybe he should’ve moved to California or Florida when he had the chance; just so he could avoid as much rain as he could. The diner had quite a lot of customers, it is, after all, one of the best in Astoria.
The raven haired man walked casually up to the last remaining seat at the counter. His seat, nobody would dare take something from a serving military man; especially not with the threat of joining the Europeans at war with Germany (yet again). As he sat down he could see people around him tense, they all knew that one day he’d no longer be here, that he’d be off in Europe shooting at the bad guys. None of them knew how long he’d have left at home, but they sure as hell wouldn’t be the ones that pissed him off before he left.
The man picked up the menu that was always stationed by the sugar. He knew the menu by heart of course; he’d been here far too often not to know it. He heard something being placed in front of him, looking away from the menu he looked and saw it was a coffee mug that was being filled. He smiled and looked up. The woman was short. Well she was around 4’11”, but that was still shorter than his height of 5’7”. She had shimmering strawberry blonde hair, warm chocolate brown eyes and curves that would make any man go wild. She was plain, but by God was she beautiful.
“You should be at home,” she said sternly as she finished pouring the coffee into his mug. “Resting”
“I’ll have the cheese burger with extra onions and pickles” the man put his menu back by the sugar, ignoring the sugar jar completely, and brought his hands up to his coffee mug. There was no way in hell would he be at home “resting” when he could be here.
“You’ll ruin your supper” the woman sighed, but wrote down the man’s order none the less “Cheese burger with half onions and pickles, please Billy”.
The man frowned; he really wanted his extra onions and pickles. “Stop worrying woman. Nothing has happened, and we don’t know if it ever will”
“Do not start with me John. I worry about enough as it is, do not add the threat of war to my worries” The woman snapped, looking at John like he was a mouldy rat.
“Lillian… sweetheart, please. Let’s not do this, not here” John begged, his eyes met Lillian’s ones and silently pleaded. Lillian glared at John, but was brought back to reality when a customer shouted at her. He hated fighting with her, after all they have been together since they were seventeen and now they’re both twenty-two (and no longer teenagers), but nothing she could say would change his mind about being in the army. He wanted to make his dad proud, proud that John was his son – a war hero. Was that too much to ask for? John loved Lillian like the flowers loved water and the sun, he needed her in so many ways that words could not describe. John wasn’t a wordy person and that was okay, since he always says that his actions will forever speak louder than his words ever will. He will prove to Lillian that if America were to be called for, then he will answer and fight. For himself, his father, his country and for his love. That’s all he needed.
John was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice a plate being placed in front of him, only did he notice when a hand was placed in a reassuring grip on his arm. It was Billy, the cook.
Billy was a great kid, only seventeen and was working as the cook in his parent’s diner for the summer. Billy, like most kids, had acne. Not terrible acne, but he had it. He had asthma, alongside with many other health issues. John knew how badly Billy wanted to join the army, but he also knew that they wouldn’t accept him. It made him sad knowing that this kid’s dream weren’t going to come true because of who he was born as.
