A/N: I wrote this for the country music song prompts forum. The song is One More Day by Diamond Rio.
Spencer Reid pulled open the door to Dave's Diner. The name wasn't too inspiring, he knew, but those who ventured inside soon found out the food was. Almost everyone who entered quickly became a regular. His decision between coming here and going home to a refrigerator that was likely filled with food that had long passed its expiry date had not been a difficult one.
"Hey Spencer," the man behind the counter called out as Reid waved and looked for a booth. Luckily, they weren't that busy yet. Dave was around fifty, Reid figured and flecks of gray had begun to take up residence in his, once black, hair. He wore a long white apron tied around his ample waistline. His ruddy complexion led Reid to suspect that Dave might have some blood pressure problems. "Michelle'll be right with ya."
"No problem Dave," Reid replied as he slid into his favorite booth. Country music was playing softly from the speakers, as it always was here.
"Hi Dr. Reid," Michelle, Dave's longtime waitress and a fixture at the diner, greeted him by name as she did for all the regulars. "How's it going today?" She asked.
"I'm good Michelle, and you?" Reid replied, refusing the menu she was about to offer him with a shake of his head. Dave made the best burgers in DC, and perhaps the best in the whole US, Reid decided reflecting on the many that he'd had in his travels with the team.
"I'm good. I finished that creative writing class I was telling you about."
"So should I soon expect the next great American novel?"
Michelle began to giggle. "Oh yeah, right," she said sarcastically. "Getting a short story down is sometimes a struggle."
"Keep at it; you'll get there." Reid told her. "Then I can say I knew you when."
Michelle slapped him playfully on the shoulder with her order pad and turned her head toward the door as three people entered the diner. "I guess I better get to work; the usual for you then?"
"Yes, thanks Michelle."
Reid pulled a book from his bag and opened it as the middle aged blonde returned with the coffee pot to fill his cup. He glanced up and gave her a smile by way of thank you and reached for the sugar packets. He could hear the music in the background as he stirred his coffee.
Last night I had a crazy dream
A wish was granted just for me, it could be for anything.
I didn't ask for money or a mansion in Malibu,
I simply asked for one more day with you.
He could feel his legs moving as his feet on the pedals propelled the bicycle forward leaving his dad behind, calling out," That's it, you're doing great son. Daddy's proud of you."
One more day, one more time,
One more sunset maybe I'd be satisfied.
He waited impatiently for the oven timer to beep and watched as his mother removed the cookies they'd made from within. He could see the gooey chocolate chips and smell the cinnamon.
But then again, I know what it would do,
Leave me wishing still for one more day with you.
His dad hefted him into the chair he'd fitted with a pillow to make it high enough for his son to see the board that he had set out with the black and white figures. "I'm going to teach you a really great game…"
First thing I'd do is pray for time to crawl.
I'd unplug the telephone and keep the TV off.
I'd hold you every second, say a million I love yous
He climbed into his mother's lap crunching on one of the cookies they'd made as she read to him from the Canterbury Tales. He rested his head on her shoulder and he could still feel her soft cheek touch his hair. Her voice would make the journey from the prologue to the Parson's tale come to life. He'd always liked the Squire's tale best, perhaps because, even then, he'd realized the squire was most like him, a young man with much enthusiasm and very little experience, who seemed to have no self control over his rather long winded narrative. No wonder it was never finished and the Franklin had felt the need to interr...
"Dr. Reid," Michelle said a little louder than she had the first time as she placed the plate with his burger and a mound of fries in front of him.
"Oh," Reid startled from his reverie, "that was quick."
Michelle smirked, "Cheryl had it going as soon as you walked in the door. Enjoy."
He looked out the window to see that darkness had descended outside and all he could see was his reflection in the glass. Those times were gone, the times when his mother's illness had been in its earliest stages and his dad had been there, for forever he'd thought at the time. Why did even happy memories have to hurt so damn much sometimes? He shook himself and reached for the ketchup, once again looking at the window; the look in the eyes of the man that looked back said they'd give anything for just one more day.