EIGHT YEARS BEFORE, PART ONE

They say that some people are born lucky, blessed even in their fortunes to be great. And they say that others are born unlucky; cursed to toil through life unnoticed, unimportant, and unloved.

For the majority of my early life on earth, I believed myself to be made of the latter fate. But the summer after I turned 21 changed everything, shifted my life so immensely that I was left certain of only two things. The first was that I was never going to be without love again; the second was that I had in fact been born lucky, it had just taken time for the prosper to reveal itself.

Because that summer was the one during which I met him.

I was waitressing back then, trying to save enough money to leave for Atlanta. The restaurant in which I worked was a local family-operated diner; the owner, Alfred, had been running the joint since his father died two decades previous to my time there. He was a typical old Southern gentleman, a kind but sometimes inappropriate figure. Due to his Christian upbringing, he always had things to say about certain patrons; and he once tried to ask me on a date because I reminded him of his "most darling sweetheart, Lord rest her soul." Business was good, if not a bit drab at times, and the pay was beyond what it should've been for such employment. And we catered to an elite crowd: The same people who ordered the same meal at the same booth every day. I guess you could say that everything at the Indigo Rose Diner was as plain as plain could ever hope to be.

Or at least until he started showing up. He was always there on my dinner shift, and like many others, he ordered the same thing each day – a Salisbury steak with no salad, a black coffee, and a slice of the day's pie for dessert. It was always simple, easy, predictable, and annoying to have him in my serving section (where he somehow always ended up sitting.) He was a nice man, handsome as hell in his police uniform, but it was clear he knew his importance. He always flirted with me, saying how nice my uniform looked or asking if I'd changed my haircut. His mildly inappropriate behavior often made me slightly uncomfortable, and Alfred completely refused to listen to my many requests of having him moved from my section. Finally, one day after arriving five minutes late and having tea spilled on me by one of the newer girls and being informed that I would be needed to work late that night, I was in no mood to deal with him.

"Don't even bother, sir. I'll just go put your order in," I spoke with a fake smile as I walked by him.

"Woah, now, wait a minute," he stopped me by grabbing my wrist. "I might have a change in there."

"Do you?" I questioned skeptically. Considering his order hadn't changed in monthes, so it seemed a bit unlikely that he'd come to a different decision.

After a quiet moment, he scratched the back of his head and smiled sheepishly, "Well, no. But I, uh. I'd like to chat with ya for a bit at least."

Of coursehe did.

"Officer, listen. I've had a less than stellar day and I'm real busy right now, my boss don't want me sitting on a break gabbing to a customer."

"Alright, another time," he conceded.

"Of course."

"Good, so we'll be going out tomorrow night then."

I smiled with a shake of the head. Gotta give him points for persistence."Afraid not, I got work from noon until closing tomorrow."

"Actually, you don't," he grinned widely now. "I already asked Al about it when I came in, and he agreed to call someone else in for you."

"Oh really? Al was alright with that?" I was skeptical once again. "For the last four years, this has been where I spend most of my day, and I'm somehow inclined to doubt your word on this."

"Well, he owes my pop a favor; apparently they were in the war together, and that ole man owes my family big time. So I'll pick you up at 7 from your place; but don't worry about directions, I got a scanner."

"Are you stalking me, officer?" I blurted, not even thinking.

"No, ma'am," he laughed out, despite the fact that I was deadly serious and pretty sure that sort of behavior could get someone thrown in jail. "I just think you're real beautiful; I been aiming to marry you since the first day I walked in that door, promised myself that someday you'd have my last name. You can't blame me or taking action into my own hands so I can make good on my promises."

"Mhm," was all I could respond with as he stared me down in earnest. It seemed like he was trying to stare a hole through to the wall in anticipation before I spoke without thinking again. Apparently, that was something I'd be doing a lot. "I s'pose if that's the case then I'd better at least give you one date to dream about. After all, it wouldn't be polite if I didn't."

Goddamn it, old Southern parental lessons.

"Tomorrow at 7 then, wear whatever you'd like – no fancy or casual guidelines on this date. And for now, it'll just be my usual meal with whatever pie ya'll got today, please." Another shit-eating grin spread across his face at that.

"Figures. I'll go put that order in for ya, should be out in a few," I spoke quickly, wanting to escape what had been a very odd conversation.

"Oh, and I'm Deputy Shane Walsh, by the way," he called out as I walked toward the kitchen.

"Tilly," was all I shouted over my shoulder before crossing behind the counter and heading through the swinging doors.