One o’clock. And right on cue, the door to the little cafe opened, hitting the bell above the doorway to give a soft ding. Jackson stepped in, brushing off his uniform, as if trying to clean himself up some. The uniform was not dirty. He was just a bit nervous.

It was lunchtime. For him, that meant coming right here, no matter how far he was. Even if he was on the other side of town, he’d go out of his way to come to this little place. He lit up some as he saw the reason why.

“Hi,” he greeted with a dumb little grin to the man behind the counter. “I uh... the usual. Please.”