Alone for Christmas

This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author.

A special thank you to Al's "brunette in Delaware" for her permission to publish this story. It was written as a Christmas gift and therefore truly belongs to her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a sequel to Christmas Past. However, it is not necessary to read it prior to reading this. Wouldn't hurt, though. The author has a third Christmas story entitled 'Twas the Night Before. That one stands alone. Enjoy and Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and a Joyous Eid to all.

Alone for Christmas

Chapter Two - Love

Gracie and Al stepped up onto the pavement and walked the ten feet to the diner's front door. The sparkly older woman whispered to him, "Oh, let me go in first, okay?"

Her delight gave Al a feeling of belonging. Gracie said she was proud of him. Those were words he hadn't heard since his father died 17 years earlier. Now, she wanted to go in first to present him as the best surprise she knew. The smile was real and the surge of pride was as well. "Okay, you go in first and I'll be right behind you."

Gracie opened the door into the diner and just as she had so many years earlier, announced her presence. She meant for everyone to hear when she proclaimed, "This is the day, people! This is the day for miracles and I brought one with me!"

Mona was behind her counter cooking up hamburgers, grilled cheese, some really good fries and whatever else the half dozen people in the diner had ordered. She turned with a huge grin on her face. "Gracie! You made it. I've been waiting for you."

Al kept his face to the floor though he wasn't sure Mona would recognize him so many years later. Gracie teased, "Who else have you been waiting for?"

Wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her waistband, she thought, "Well, Deuce is supposed to show up."

"Not Deuce. Who else, Mona? Who have you waited for since 1941?" Gracie pulled Al in front of her. "Who do you think grew up to be the most handsome young Naval officer I've seen in nearly thirty years?"

Mona stared for a few seconds and while no one thought it possible, her smile got bigger. "Just tell me it's you!"

He blushed like a school boy, took off his uniform hat and said, "Hello, Miss Mona."

She dashed out from behind the counter, wiping her hands on the towel tucked into her waistband. "My goodness gracious, my goodness gracious! This is the best Christmas present I have ever gotten."

The lost boy, who, like Peter Pan, didn't ever seem to grow up, fell into her embrace. "If that's the case, then you've had some sorry Christmas gifts."

Looking into his eyes she smiled, "Well, maybe the second best."

It was fun having this silly banter. With feigned dejection, he whined, "So soon I get put back to second?"

"The best Christmas present was a pair of little children who visited me 19 years ago today." Her gentle hand ran over his military haircut. "What happened to those beautiful curls?"

In his eyes, those beautiful curls were a personal agony that thankfully the Navy didn't want any more than he did. "The military frowns on curls."

From behind her, she heard a customer call out, "Hey, Mona, you're burning my burger!"

Her finger wagged in his face. "Take off your coat and don't you go anywhere. We have nearly two decades to catch up on."

She took off toward the grill as Al and Gracie made their way toward the coat rack. Gracie was still all smiles. "Told you she'd be happy to see you."

Al hung Gracie's coat and then his own, and even though he mumbled, Gracie heard him say, "Someone has to be."

Once again, she touched his face with her hands shaking from whatever ailment she was fighting. "You go talk to Mona. I'm going to see what Jack is doing." Gracie nodded toward a booth where a lone man sat taking his time with a sandwich. "Would you ask Mona to bring me a cup of joe?"

The attitude was there, but Miss Gracie's body was failing her. He didn't like medical stuff. It never did him any good. Medical stuff killed his father and sister. Medical stuff was ugly and he hated seeing it now in this woman who sang just for him that night. "I'll get the coffee for you."

As he walked toward the counter, the diner's patrons stared at him. Searching into his memory, he hoped he might recognize Mrs. Zimmer. Off to the side a senior citizen couple and two suitcases took up the booth where Al and Trudy shared their first taste of hot chocolate. The flash gave Trudy back to him, but the horrifying moment he learned of her death wiped that sweet thought away in a second.

Pulling himself as tall as possible, Al looked capable and strong in his dress blues, his wings proudly worn over his breast pocket, a confident pilot, the future of America, but in his head, it was all fraud. His acting skills got him through all sorts of things in life. Pretending to be self-assured and bright got him an Annapolis Scholarship, bought his way into Flight School, and put him on the fast track to promotion. It was difficult living with the knowledge that any day now, he'd be found out and the Navy would bid him farewell. Odd thoughts at this time. These people knew him at one of the lowest points in his life. He decided to be honest with Mona, at least try to be. He sat across from the grill and decided that this wasn't the moment to start. So, he said, "This time I can pay my tab."

Flipping burgers was second nature to her so it was easy to talk to her young friend and tend to her orders. "Who said I would have any serviceman pay to eat here? All of you eat and drink free." She plated the cheeseburger, dropped a load of fries next to it and placed it in front of him. "You like cheeseburgers if my memory serves me." Reaching past him down the counter, she grabbed a bottle, "With ketchup."

Bells on the front door announced the entrance of another customer. Al turned to see a man enter the diner, a sullen guy, maybe 60 years old. Without taking his eyes from the newcomer Al admitted, "Yeah, that's the way I like them, but I need to bring some coffee to Miss Gracie first."

Mona patted his hand. "I'll bring it to her. You eat. You're way too skinny. I think you're even skinnier now than you were when you were seven." She grabbed a coffeepot and kept talking. "And after you're done with that burger, I got some pumpkin pie for you." She started across the diner still talking. "Then we have to get you some hot chocolate."

The burger was there asking to be enjoyed. He obliged with a bite that was too big, but he was a grown man now and hungrier than he thought.

After dropping off a menu for the newcomer, Mona almost danced to the table across the room. Gracie's booth-mate Jack put down a five dollar bill and waved good-bye. Mona poured coffee from the clear pot into a sturdy ceramic mug and sat next to Gracie. "Can you believe that he's come back?"

"He's still a lonely little boy, Mona, a very lonely little boy." Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. "It's his heart. It's been broken too often. I don't know if you can find a big enough miracle for him this time."

"Not sure a miracle is what he needs." She left the coffee on the table. "When that gets cold, let me know. I'll brew you a fresh pot."

Al almost finished his cheeseburger by the time Mona took her place behind the counter. "You really do make the best burgers."

"Don't eat so fast. You'll make yourself sick." She took off to take the order of her new customer.

Packing the burger away so quickly got Al to thinking about St. Paul's Orphanage. Growing up in that environment, he learned to eat quickly and to grab any leftovers from his buddies, not that leftovers were common. They ate three meals a day. Nothing good. Nothing with flavor. Whatever was easiest to prepare for over 100 children, that was dinner. The year he spent living on the streets didn't break his habit of eating fast. He ate when he found something worth the effort of dumpster diving and finished it before someone hungrier than him stole it from his hands. When his stint as an actor fed his wallet, he fed his belly, but not much more than that. There was no place for him to stay unless his theater friends brought him to their places. For some reason, people didn't mind him sleeping on their couch nearly as much as they minded paying for meals. His one shot at good luck surfaced when Jacob Javits came backstage at The King and I. Seventeen-year-old Al understudied Chululongkorn, the boy prince. Javits came backstage after one of the few times Al was onstage in that role. The upcoming New York politician was taken with the teen who looked much younger than his years and even more impressed with the young man's request for help to get into the Naval Academy. With the future senator by his side, Al won his scholarship into Annapolis fueled by his straight-A average, his graduation from high school at 16, his self-sufficiency, his intense need to learn, and an insistent recommendation from the kindly senior representative from the State of New York.

All those thoughts ran through his head at one time. He didn't want to lament his life, but he couldn't help it. Things were maybe going to turn out okay and he wanted to be appreciative. Just got hard to do that sometimes, especially around holidays when people looked to family for love and support. He had no one to look to. A smile crossed his face. Maybe he did have someone. Here he was with Mona again and while he didn't want to get hopes up, he couldn't help but feel he was going to be safe. If only for a short time, he was in this place that changed his life and eating his favorite meal.

"Miss Mona, you make the best burgers. Can I have another?"

The diner owner looked at her boy, at least she thought of him in those terms. His young face was so handsome, but instead of seeing youthful exuberance in his eyes, she saw the vacant pain of abandonment and loss. Too much had happened to him and it hurt her heart. Her warm hands took his and she peered into an emptiness that troubled her. "You can have anything you want, Al. Don't you know that yet?"

People seemed to expect things from him. He never could figure out why, but they did. In most cases, he didn't care, but this was Miss Mona and she wasn't like other people. "You keep thinking I'm a lot more than I really am."

"That's not true. You're just what I think you are and I'm so happy you're here. I've missed you and Trudy."

The time had come, the time he dreaded. "Trudy," he turned his face to the floor, "Trudy is dead. It's been eight years now."

Mona went to Al's side and held onto him. "Oh no. Poor Al, I know how much you loved her."

He hadn't had a tear for years and he wasn't going to start now. "It's all in the past."

The aluminum napkin dispenser was just beyond her reach so she moved back behind the counter and found a tissue to dab her eyes. "A loss like that is never really past. You and your father must have been devastated."

His father? He hadn't considered that as news for Mona. She didn't know that he was gone, too. "He never knew about it. Our father died in 1944, when I was ten. He had a brain tumor."

Mona put another hamburger on her grill for her boy. The last time she saw Al, Trudy and their father, the trio practically danced down a snow-covered Christmas sidewalk, off to have a day filled with the hope a loving family provides. Now she learns Al's truth. The life she wanted for him was not the life he had. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry. I don't what to say to you."

Most people didn't. Most people told him he was courageous and strong. After the life he led, they were amazed he wasn't in prison somewhere rotting away. He hated their assumptions about him; that a kid with his history would have to be on his way to jail. Feeling sorry was a trap he worked hard to avoid. There were times when he was successful, but right now, he had someone whom he knew would allow him to cry and be the child he wanted to be. However, he wasn't a child. He was a Navy pilot, an Annapolis graduate working to become an astronaut in his country's space program. A man able to fly a space craft can't be crying about things in the past. "There isn't anything to say. People die."

She realized a fib when she heard one, but she wasn't going to call him on it. He was still trying to be confident and when he needed to talk more about it, she knew he would. The burger needed attention and she used that as a ruse to change subjects. "You know, Deuce is coming by soon."

"I heard you tell Miss Gracie. How is he doing? Wasn't he homeless?"

"Well, he used to say the streets were his home, but he started getting fed up with that life. It was hard, but he got hooked up with the Salvation Army. They helped him get training and he's an auto mechanic now. Can you believe it?"

"That's great. We'll have a lot to talk about. I like working on cars."

Mona served the second cheeseburger and Al picked it up before sound of the plate rattling on the counter stopped sounding out. She laughed, "When was the last time you ate?"

A light blush colored his cheeks. He garbled out, "Sorry." After gulping his first bite, he looked up into her eyes and the need to be a child surfaced. She was the only one who expected him to be the best he could be and to do that for himself, no one else. Mona wasn't concerned about the money Annapolis invested in his career. It didn't concern Miss Mona at all that the Navy wanted was for him to be a good military man. That was their expectation. Mona wanted his success to be there for him and he believed he was falling far short. "Miss Mona," and words failed him. All he could say was, "I'm really glad to see you."

A lost soul, a forgotten spirit, a life in need of caring, Al Calavicci needed love and it wasn't his to have. Mona knew that the instant she saw him. There was a time 19 years earlier when she managed to give him a few days of hope. This visit would demand she find him more than mere days of hope. His future would depend on it.

The door opened and a Christmas tree entered. Holding on to the far end was another old friend. Just as he had 19 years earlier, Deuce carried in the tree. "Hey, Mona, I need a hand here. You want this in the same place like usual?"

"You know it, Deuce and I got someone here who can help out."

Al already moved off the counter seat and had to smile. When he'd met Deuce the first time, the scruffy man frightened him a little. Now, his adult eyes saw things very differently. At only five feet six, Al spent a lot of time looking up to people, but Deuce didn't even make five four. "That's a lot of tree you got there, Deuce."

Looking at the young man in uniform Deuce just smiled and said, "If that's the case, then get your little private butt over here and help me out."

"Yes, sir." The grin he had was bigger than he'd felt on his face for a long time. "But I'll have you know, I'm not a private. I'm not even Army." The tree had to be over seven feet tall. "How did you manage to carry this thing?"

"By not making excuses that 'I'm not even Army.'" Now Deuce grinned as big as Al. "Now, if your honor sir would like to help, I'd appreciate it."

"Yes, sir." Moving to the rear, Al took up the heavier part of the tree and let Deuce relax a little.

The mechanic had to keep teasing this nice kid. "Marines teach you to be that polite?"

The teasing wasn't going to stop. "Me, a jar head? I have better taste than that. Miss Mona made sure of it." They righted the evergreen in the same place Al remembered his magic tree appeared 19 years earlier. He still had trouble believing the lights, the ornaments, the small gift for Trudy miraculously materializing. Long ago, he convinced himself that the miracles were just a small boy's explanation of things unseen, but he wished the tree would suddenly glow with colors and a bright star would shine from the very top. In any case, the tree made the diner feel more like that special place in his memory. Turning his attention to Deuce, he kept up the banter. "You got us a huge tree, Deuce. Last one I saw here wasn't nearly this tall."

"Last one? I don't remember any Coast Guard being here before."

He had to laugh again. "Now you're making me a Guard? Next you'll be accusing me of being a junior bird man and, trust me, I'm not Air Force. Those boys don't know the first thing about flying."

Deuce looked at the kid who kept playing the game and laughed back. "So you must be Navy, a pilot I guess." He pointed to the medal over Al's pocket. "At least they don't usually give wings to men who can't fly." A calloused, slightly motor-oiled hand reached out. "Good to see you, kid." Looking down at his fingers after the handshake, he added, "I washed them really good before I left, too. I just can't get this grime off no matter how hard I scrub. Mona don't like dirty hands at her counter." Rubbing his hands together, he looked Al in the eye asking, "Now, how have you been the last 19 years?"

Stunned silence, just completely stunned silence. Al found his voice and mumbled, "I don't believe it. You remember me?"

"The little tough guy who reads Dickens? Yeah, I remember you. I wasn't wasted back then, just homeless." Making his way past Al, Deuce sat at the counter. "Mona, got some chicken soup for me?"

The ladle dipped into the steaming cauldron. "Always, Deuce." She placed it in front of her old friend. "Surprised to see Al?"

Deuce looked back at the boy who'd grown into a man. "A little," he pointed a bony finger at Al, "but I figured you'd be back someday. Everyone comes back to Mona's."

Playfully Mona tapped Deuce's other hand. "Some never leave!"

Laughing Deuce told her, "Yeah, well, now that I'm a paying customer, you don't want to get rid of me, do you?" Then he pointed to the front door, "And I'm not sure you're getting rid of anyone today. The weather is getting bad. I hear we're close to getting snowed in."

Al gazed out the window. The snow swirled so hard that he couldn't even see across the street. "Looks like I bring blizzards with me. Maybe I'm bad luck." It wouldn't be the first time he thought of himself in those terms. Bad luck was his best friend, at least it seemed so. This self-pity was getting to him. Whining was never a favorite thing and he didn't fall into the trap often, but Christmas seemed to be the time to do it. When no one cares, no one hears you whine. Problem was that in Mona's Diner, there were three people who cared a lot - Mona, Deuce, and Miss Gracie. He wanted to tell them how much he needed them, but he wouldn't do it. Now that he was a man, things like loneliness and sadness weren't to be shared. Holding it inside was the only thing to do. He'd done it most of his life. There was no need to change now. "Yeah, maybe I'm bad luck."

Gracie went to the door and opened it. "Baby, you are the best luck. I'd be dead if you hadn't pushed me out of the way of that car, but I don't think you're going anywhere for a long time. Nothing is going to move in this storm." Walking shakily back to her booth she smiled, "Certainly not me. I won't be able to see my feet out there."

Al joined Gracie staring out the front. "I'm not even sure I'd see my feet."

Mona served the newcomer his bowl of chili mac and called to her friends, "Looks like we're all going to be here awhile." She turned her attention to the man in the booth. "Would you like some raw onions or cheddar cheese?"

He wasn't the chatty type and he barely grunted, "Yeah."

"Both?"

"Just cheese." Looking at the front door, he grumped, "Damn weather."

Mona tried to make the man feel a little better. "Looks like you'll be here for awhile, but good things can happen at Christmas time here in the diner. Just ask my boy there."

Al looked at the man. Something about him didn't sit right. The guy's eyes cut into Al and made him feel cold - even more than the blowing snow and winds, but he tried smiling. "Yeah, Christmases at Mona's are something you remember for the rest of your life."

The old guy looked annoyed. "Did I ask you?"

The Calavicci temper flared, but he learned to carry an internal extinguisher with him. In the past, he'd ended up fighting for less than what the guy said. It wouldn't have even mattered that the guy was old enough to be his father. Mona wouldn't want him to start anything with the guy. Tucking his short fuse away, Al concentrated on something more pleasant. He put his arm around Gracie. "Are you going to sing for me tonight? I'd love to hear sing again."

"For you, baby, any time."

"Baby? I haven't been a baby since about the day after I was born." It wasn't said with bitterness, just with the knowledge that he didn't have a real childhood. Trouble was that most people only heard the sadness of a child born to melancholy when he spoke like that.

Gracie held onto him and whispered, "You will always be my little boy. I don't care how old you get or how many planes you fly. You're my little boy. Don't ever forget that."

There was no thought to it. He pulled out of her embrace immediately. The sensation wasn't embarrassment. Vulnerability belonged to someone else, not him. "Miss Gracie, I'm no one's little boy."

She kissed his cheek. "So you think, Al, but you'll learn." Holding his hand in both of hers she said, "You belong to so many people and they all belong to you."

Well, it wasn't the first time he'd heard something that made no sense when he was in Mona's Diner and he figured it wouldn't be the last. "Whatever you say, Miss Gracie. You've never lied to me before. Can't see you starting now."

"Go eat more. We'll sing later."

The couple who had been sitting in the booth walked past Al and Gracie determined to make it to the train station regardless of the blinding snows. Al tried to stop them. "You should stay here. It's dangerous to be out in this kind of weather." An introduction seemed appropriate, "My name is Al Calavicci, by the way."

The woman looked up at him. "This is Arthur and I'm Ida Probst." Her smile was exquisite in its reality. "Thank you, Lieutenant, but we have to get to the train station. Our children are expecting us tomorrow and we just have to get to them. I hate the idea of not seeing them. It's not right to be away from your children at Christmas."

Nice to know some parents felt like that. "Maybe I should go with you."

The husband was wrapping a scarf around his neck. "No need, no need at all. We'll be fine."

Al wasn't convinced. "It's alright. I can go with you. It's just a few blocks and I know the way really well." Lying came far too easy to him. Patting his too flat stomach he joked, "A nice walk will help me work off those cheeseburgers." As he took his coat from the rack, he called out to Mona. "I'll want some of that good hot chocolate when I get back."

He bundled his collar up around his ears, pulled his hat as low as he could, gearing up to follow the couple outside.