Maybe there was something about the way she happily bounced around the cafe like a minimum wage job was actually enjoyable, or maybe it was her innocent smile that made all the things he's seen in his life disintegrate, but one day, Austin sits down in a booth almost opposite his usual seat and waits for his waitress.
Since 2013, Austin Moon has spent his free time reading, sleeping, watching terrible reality shows and coming to the Crandon Park Cafe every afternoon. He orders a black coffee and stack of pancakes. He always sits in the same booth, and his regular waitress is an older woman with greying hair and youthful smile that always sneaks an extra pancake on his menu-order of six. Her name is Ruth. Every day, it was the same old thing.
"Hey, darlin'," she'd say. She'd ask if he wanted the usual and he always did. She would bring his coffee to him with a little saucer and a smile. "Careful, it's hot." When she brings him the pancakes, she'd ask how his day was. "What are you reading now?" she'd wonder, head nodding to his book. Usually it was a classic, but sometimes he would just read the paper. "How many days left?" she'd ask.
"A week," he'd once replied.
For the last month or so, he began to look up from his reading more often, and once, he noticed this petite brunette with a cheerful smile. And she always laughed with the customers, she always made them feel welcome. She made HIM feel welcome and she never even looked at him, but focused on her own tables. He works up the nerve to talk to her the day he has to leave.
She comes over to his table with a bright smile, paper, pen and hands him a menu. "Hey there!" she greets. "My name is Ally and I'll be your waitress this afternoon." He doesn't reply at first, because he suddenly realizes he doesn't know what to say. Ruth always just goes with the flow, and this Ally girl actually doesn't know what he'd want so he sputters. She notices his shyness and gives him an encouraging smile. "What can I get for you, today?"
He finds his voice and squeaks out an order. "Coffee, please. Black. And pancakes."
She nods and scrawls it on a sheet of paper. "I'll be right back with your order, sir," she smiles.
"Sir?" he asks.
She nods. "I don't suppose you're wearing a uniform because it's laundry day?"
He looks down at his army green attire. "No, ma'am," he replies. "I'm waiting for the military shuttle."
"And that's why I called you sir. It'd be disrespectful to treat you like you weren't important." She bounces away and he's filled with this painful desire to spend every fleeting moment with her.
She brings his coffee in a flash. "Anything else I can do for you while we wait for your pancakes?"
"Would you mind sitting down for a while and talking to me? I'm feeling a little low," he admits.
She looks at her watch, and at the increasingly large crowd pouring in from the tourist bus. "I'm off in hour," she tells him. "I know where we can go." She places a reassuring hand on his and squeezes before she takes off to wait on another table. He smiles at himself and oh, how he wish the situation were different.
Moments later, Ruth wanders by to refill his mug. "Find yourself someone to love?" she asks with a grin.
He nods. "I just wish it wasn't bittersweet." The look on her face makes him continue. "I'm leaving in a few hours," he explains. Her expression saddens.
"Stay safe, darlin'. I don't want to lose my favourite customer, even if he's decided to sit elsewhere." She lightly hugs him standing up and walks away.
Money's been tight since Austin's dad passed in car crash, and now his mother, Mimi, also in the crash, is partly handicapped on her right side. She can't work really, and the two of them scrape by on disability cheques, but a lot goes to pay for her physical therapist. So in the fall of 2013, Austin enrolled himself in the military to help his mom pay the bills, because his singing career was a shot in the dark and he didn't want to waste the money on something that wasn't a sure thing. Mimi had begged him not to, but when he made the argument about money, she couldn't find a way to convince him, and luckily he's come home twice since he's become a soldier, and she sleeps a little better those nights.
It was that time again, and he's all packed up to leave.
Ally brings over his pancakes from the kitchen with syrup and butter. "Here you go, sir. Thick, fluffy and to die for." Her eyes open really wide and she flails her arms. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I never meant to offend you. I don't literally mean die, they're just very good and-"
This time it's his turn to reassure her. "I wasn't offended," he grins. "Trust me - I've eaten these pancakes every day for months. They ARE to die for."
She loosens up a little and walks away nervously.
Ruth walks by a few minutes later and whispers in his ear. "Boy, she thinks you a cutie. Goin' on about you in the kitchen every chance she got."
He flushes crimson and smiles.
Ally likes him.
Ally comes out at precisely 4:00pm and unties her apron, hanging it on the hook. "Bye everyone," she calls. She even waves at a few customers. She stops at his table as he stands up and leaves the money on the table. He puts on his hat and offers her his arm, which she reluctantly takes.
"I don't meant to be so abrupt about asking you out earlier," he tells her. "I've just been real nervous about going back. I bet you got a boyfriend and everything." They take a seat on the pier off the beach. "But I don't care. I don't have anyone to send a letter to. My momma don't like letters, she says that if I don't make it back alive she don't want a silly little letter with unfinished thoughts to be what she remembers. When I said I loved her earlier, that was the last time I'd say a word to her until I return." She looks at him sadly. "Would you mind if I sent one back here to you? A letter, I mean." He looks at her hopefully.
She takes his hand and squeezes it. "I'd love that," she replies.
He tells her the story about his daddy, and how he was in the military too, flying fighter planes, and how he thought that if he survived that, nothing would take him out except old age. But the crash meant that he was gone and probably sitting there in Heaven waiting on Austin's momma so he could complain about it all to her and they could be together again. "She blames herself," he says sadly. "Because she lived and he didn't. She cries every night."
"Aw, Austin. You don't blame yourself, right?"
He shrugs. "I know I shouldn't. But I look at my momma every day and wonder what would be different if I were there, or if I had told them not to go out that night."
"Don't worry about the what-ifs. They'll only hurt you worse."
"You mean like this?" he says softly, gesturing at the space - or lack thereof - between them. "You mean like what if I wasn't leaving today? What if we had met another way? What if I had been grocery shopping and I had accidentally run in to you, and since I made you drop your groceries, I stopped and helped you pick them up and what if I got your number that day? What if-"
"Yeah," she interrupts him. "Don't do that. It'll hurt." She rests his head on his shoulder and they look out at the ocean for a little while.
They talk for only twenty minutes after that before he hears the shuttle pull up, telling him it's time he leave. He sighs and they stand together, and he's surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes, and he's even more surprised when he realizes that the whole way back she never let go of his hand. They stop in the cafe parking lot, where a few other soldiers are loading the bus. As he's putting his luggage away inside the compartment, he hears the chime of the cafe doors and turns to see Ruth hobbling towards Ally and him.
He smiles and opens his arms for a brief hug and she gladly returns it. "I'll miss you, darlin'. Stay safe and come home, y'hear?"
He nods. "I'll miss you too, Ruth."
She steps away and goes back inside, and Austin turns to Ally.
"I'll miss you as well, Ally," he says quietly, taking her hands.
She laughs, but she's crying now. "She's right, you know. You need to come back. I need you."
"You don't need me," he shakes his head. "I don't want to be that boy that makes a pretty girl cry. Momma always said that if I ever made a girl cry and it wasn't because I proposed to her, she would have my head. I was raised with manners. You don't need me. I'm gonna come back, for you, Ruth and my momma, but you don't need me. I need you."
She sobs and smiles because he's so sweet, and he brushes the tears away with his rumba gently. "Write as soon as you can, Austin."
"I will."
She leans up to kiss him and it surprises herself more than anyone, but she loves the way his lips feel, rough but tender at the same time, like a flesh wound, because it hurts to kiss him when he's leaving. She doesn't even pull back - she immediately wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him in for a hug, knowing that if she had looked at him, she would have broken down even further.
The shuttle bus driver honks the horn to warn him that they needed to go.
"I have to go." She nods. "I'll miss you." She nods. "You're not replying so you don't cry, right?" She nods. He picks up his carry-on. "I'll write soon. Bye, Ally." He salutes her and gets on the bus, picking a seat by the window and opening it up as they start up the bus' engine. He puts his arm out for one last moment with her and takes her hand to give it one last squeeze.
And then he's being driven away with 14 other returning soldiers, and Ally is standing there, wishing they HAD met at a grocery store in another life. She already missed him.
"You don't even know him," Trish says, gulping a smoothie. Ally sits across from her best friend in the Crandon Park cafe after her shift the following day.
"I know that," she replies. "It's just that I FEEL like I know him. Like it doesn't matter that I just met him." She frantically gestures with her hands. "I don't know how to describe it!"
"Ally, you're sixteen - he's eighteen. You're too young for him and he'll just break your heart."
"He's not that kind of guy, Trish." She runs a hand through her hair, annoyed.
"They never are until they do. Trust me. But okay, tell me about him."
Ally dives right in with a big smile. "He's very soft-spoken. You know? Like, he's very genuine and quiet. He loves his mom so much. His dad died in a crash a couple years ago and he's taking care of his mom now. That's why he serves - medical bills."
"He sounds perfect," Trish admits. "But he's gone now. He could come and go next year, too. What are you going to do? Wait for the duration of the year? It'll hurt you more. And you can't do that to yourself."
"I'll be fine, Trish."
His first letter comes a few weeks after that.
'Dear Ally,
It's lonely out here. The only good part is my friend Dez. I met him last year, but he lives in Washington. He's here again this year with me. He's here because he's wicked at decoding enemy codes and translating all the things the rest of us can't. He got paid to be here much better than the rest of us and life insurance because he's a real asset. He's so strong. It sucks being here. But I have to.
My letters won't be frequent unfortunately. It's hard to find time to do it when we're training and out in the field. But I'll try to write any time I can. I hope it isn't weird that I miss y'all.
Talk soon.
-Austin'
Ally folds the letter and puts it back in her side table with a smile. She then lays on her stomach on her bed and begins to write back.
'Dear Austin,
It's not weird at all because I miss you too.
Tell your friend that I said hello and to be careful. :) I wish you could come home and stay home. We could find somewhere for you to work and I can meet your mom and you'd be here, safe.
Just write when you can and I'll be okay.
-Ally.'
He smiles to himself and his bunk neighbour - Dez, actually - looks over at him confused.
"What's up?" Dez asks.
"The girl I told you about, she replied to my letter. She sends her regards." He folds the paper and turns over before going to sleep with a grin.
'Dear Ally,
We're going to Vietnam tomorrow. I'll write when I'm settled. You can still send letters to the camp, and they'll be forwarded though. Talk soon.
-Austin'
"That was almost rude," Trish says after reading the latest letter.
"It wasn't rude, Trish. He was just letting me know that he'll be busy for a while. Why do you hate him so much?" Ally demands.
"I think you're putting too much faith in someone you hardly know. I'm just afraid he'll hurt you."
For months, their letters back and forth are consistent. He tells her all about his dream to become a country star and maybe a guitar teacher. He wants to travel to Africa and volunteer.
She tells him how she loves music too, and sometimes writes her own. That she's classically trained on the piano, but that she plays the piccolo in the school band. She tells him that she wants to be the first woman to be president.
Slowly, but surely, they get really close.
One day, the letter he sends her makes her cry.
'My dearest Ally,
Me and you, it might be love.
And all these things I was so scared of.
Some days when it's getting kinda rough over here
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier
and I close my eyes and see you're pretty smile.
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for a while.'
Ally opens her door, her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes startling her best friend. "I brought you some ice cream therapy," she says softly. She lets Trish in and they trudge to her room, where it's dark and cold. "I knew you were a vampire!" she jokes.
Ally flops on her bed with a huff. "I'm scared, Trish. What if he's hurt? I know they're not supposed to tell us until there's an immediate danger, but what if something went wrong and now he's fighting for his life!"
Trish rubs Ally's back comfortingly. "You have to trust that he will do all he can to write you again."
Six weeks and still no word from Austin. Ally is a wreck, but she's at least gone back to work, school, and back to performing with the band.
It's a Friday night and it's the Senior Championship football game. Ally, fully uniformed and nervous, awaits behind the drum line with the other piccolo enthusiasts. She reads over her sheet music for the song when The Lord's Prayer begins to be said over the stadium announcements.
She follows along and it ends with the entire stadium reciting along. "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
Immediately following the prayer, the national anthem sounds from the speakers, and everyone begins to follow along throughout the duration, and Ally grows increasingly nervous as the band has to play right away.
A few moments after the anthem, however, a man's voice is heard over the speaker. "Folks, we have heard that a few of our own men have taken back the shuttle bus to Heaven instead of Miami, where they shall be welcomed with open arms by Him and may they rest in peace with Him after so courageously serving to protect America. Now please, would you bow your heads with me for a list of our local Vietnam dead." The stadium grows quiet and Ally listens respectfully but doesn't register what she's hearing.
The man clears his throat for the reading. "Jonah Daniels. Parker Reynolds. David Delmont. Wesley Armstrong. Chase Thompson. Garret Sutherland. Xavier Lee. Austin Moon. Aaron Hayes." The stadium is absolutely soundless for another minute.
It isn't until people start talking again that Ally realizes. Austin Moon. Austin Moon is gone.
Crying all alone under the stands, Ally is wrapped up around her knees, swaying back and forth. She's sobbing violently, but no one can hear her over the roars of the crowd. She knows the band needs her, but she can't bring herself to care in the slightest.
Two days after that night, Trish and Ally are getting ready quietly in her room for Austin's funeral. Her eyes are completely bloodshot and she's still a little shaken. She fidgets with her hair in front of her vanity mirror, sniffling and breathing shallowly.
Trish comes over and gently takes the curling iron from Ally's hands and finishes it up herself. "He's in a better place, Ally."
Ally wipes her mascara briskly. "I hate that people think it helps to hear that. It doesn't," she spits defensively. "It makes it worse. Yeah okay he's six feet under and I'm here and we're without each other and that connection that came so naturally and the bond that we've built is broken in five seconds and we have nothing to show for how much we loved each other." Trish says nothing, but looks sorrowfully at her friend in the mirror. "You were right, you know," Ally adds. "He was just going to hurt me. I shouldn't have put faith in him."
Trish shakes her head vigourously. "Ally, everything I said, everything I tried to make you understand, it's bullshit. I was wrong, okay. He loved you and you loved him and in the end that's all that matters. So today when you pay your respects I need you to remember how he made you feel when he was alive, not how you feel now that he's gone. Yes, you should grieve, but don't let it take your feelings and mask them. Don't pretend either of you didn't care to make it hurt less. Pain makes us human, Ally. Without it, we're monsters."
A few hours later, Ally sits in a chair beside Mimi as they console each other. They've both cried so much today, they're exhausted. But when Trish comes over to pull Ally away, she pretends she's up and at 'em.
"There's someone here I want you to meet," Trish explains, dragging her through a crowd of sad people, only heightening Ally's depression.
They stop in front of a tall, redheaded boy. He turns around and looks at Ally with a grim expression. "Your pictures don't do you justice," he whispers painfully.
"Who are you?" she asks defensively, taken aback by this guy.
"I'm Dez."
Her jaw drops. "You're Austin's best friend."
"I was," he nods. "He told me all about you, Ally. He said you were this happy and smart and beautiful girl. Obviously, given the circumstances, I've seen happier people. But he's right - you're beautiful. He loved you so much. I'm sorry you got wrapped up in a guy like him."
She looks at him, appalled. "A 'guy like him' meaning what, exactly?"
He looks to the sky sadly. "A travelling soldier."