comment about the quality of the food. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Cole pulled
open the door and stepped inside.
Marge’s was small and cozy. There was hardly room enough for two people to walk side by side between the row of booths that
lined the wall next to the windows on one side and the long countertop and stools on the other. Only a few seats were taken,
the occasional burst of laughter was heard over the other sounds of the restaurant; the scrape of a fork, the clatter of a
cup in a saucer, and the soft whir of the ceiling fan. The smell of hamburger grease and coffee clung to the air and sent
Cole’s taste buds salivating. The diner held some of his fondest memories in Victory.
“Well, land sakes!” a woman’s voice suddenly shouted, overpowering all of the noise in the diner. “Is my eyes deceivin’ me
in my old age or did Cole Ambrose just walk through my door?”
Marge Stewart hurried out from behind the counter wearing a flowered apron over a white blouse, the worn stub of a pencil
stuck behind one ear. Short and squat enough to appear nearly as wide as she was tall, Marge had coal black hair that was
piled on top of her head in dark clouds. A pattern of wrinkles creased her face as she smiled. Marge had been a fixture in
Victory for years. She ran the diner with her husband, Dick; Cole could see the back of his balding head as he manned the
grill. The Stewarts knew everyone in town by both name and appetite.
“It’s good to be back, Marge.”
“I sure wasn’t expectin’ to see you! When did you get home?”
“Just yesterday.”
“I’m glad to see that all those years of fillin’ your head full of numbers and the like didn’t push out your common sense,”
she crowed, cheerfully patting his cheek with her pudgy hand. “First day back in Victory and you make a beeline straight for
my cookin’!”
“After all those years eating in the cafeteria, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to get an honest-to-goodness meal,”
Cole chuckled. “My mouth started watering on the way here.”
“Now you’re just butterin’ me up,” Marge scolded him, but her eyes quickly brightened. “But then again, I love that sort of
thing! Sit yourself down right here at the counter where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cole did as he was told.
“One cheeseburger and a glass of milk, coming up!”
As Marge busied herself fixing his order, Cole sighed. He could have just as easily eaten at home, but ever since the fateful
day of his mother’s accident, being there by himself had always made him uncomfortable. To make matters worse, he had only
been home for less than a day but his father had done nothing to make him feel welcome.
I’ve been gone for so many years! You’d think there would be some part of my father that would have been happy to see me!
Cole was relieved that Robert had already left for the hardware store by the time he woke; no words at all were certainly
better than the harsh ones he had received upon his arrival. He’d dressed quickly and hurried out the door. Though he’d been
hungry, he wanted to get out, to get some fresh air, and reacquaint himself with Victory.
Sitting on the diner seat, he began leafing through the abandoned newspaper that lay at his elbow. The
Victory Herald
’s headline blared JAPS PUSH ON IN NEW GUINEA. Scanning through the article, Cole learned that the Japanese army had seized
a couple of towns on the island and were threatening Port Moresby and the American ships at anchor there. If they didn’t get
reinforcements soon, they could be pushed clean off the island. Cole closed the paper in disgust. Much of the news since Pearl
Harbor had been bad, but he still remained confident that the tide would soon turn. Heck, the Doolittle raid on Tokyo had
proven that America would fight back. It wouldn’t be long before the Japanese and the Germans would be back on their heels
and in full
open the door and stepped inside.
Marge’s was small and cozy. There was hardly room enough for two people to walk side by side between the row of booths that
lined the wall next to the windows on one side and the long countertop and stools on the other. Only a few seats were taken,
the occasional burst of laughter was heard over the other sounds of the restaurant; the scrape of a fork, the clatter of a
cup in a saucer, and the soft whir of the ceiling fan. The smell of hamburger grease and coffee clung to the air and sent
Cole’s taste buds salivating. The diner held some of his fondest memories in Victory.
“Well, land sakes!” a woman’s voice suddenly shouted, overpowering all of the noise in the diner. “Is my eyes deceivin’ me
in my old age or did Cole Ambrose just walk through my door?”
Marge Stewart hurried out from behind the counter wearing a flowered apron over a white blouse, the worn stub of a pencil
stuck behind one ear. Short and squat enough to appear nearly as wide as she was tall, Marge had coal black hair that was
piled on top of her head in dark clouds. A pattern of wrinkles creased her face as she smiled. Marge had been a fixture in
Victory for years. She ran the diner with her husband, Dick; Cole could see the back of his balding head as he manned the
grill. The Stewarts knew everyone in town by both name and appetite.
“It’s good to be back, Marge.”
“I sure wasn’t expectin’ to see you! When did you get home?”
“Just yesterday.”
“I’m glad to see that all those years of fillin’ your head full of numbers and the like didn’t push out your common sense,”
she crowed, cheerfully patting his cheek with her pudgy hand. “First day back in Victory and you make a beeline straight for
my cookin’!”
“After all those years eating in the cafeteria, I’d almost forgotten what it was like to get an honest-to-goodness meal,”
Cole chuckled. “My mouth started watering on the way here.”
“Now you’re just butterin’ me up,” Marge scolded him, but her eyes quickly brightened. “But then again, I love that sort of
thing! Sit yourself down right here at the counter where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cole did as he was told.
“One cheeseburger and a glass of milk, coming up!”
As Marge busied herself fixing his order, Cole sighed. He could have just as easily eaten at home, but ever since the fateful
day of his mother’s accident, being there by himself had always made him uncomfortable. To make matters worse, he had only
been home for less than a day but his father had done nothing to make him feel welcome.
I’ve been gone for so many years! You’d think there would be some part of my father that would have been happy to see me!
Cole was relieved that Robert had already left for the hardware store by the time he woke; no words at all were certainly
better than the harsh ones he had received upon his arrival. He’d dressed quickly and hurried out the door. Though he’d been
hungry, he wanted to get out, to get some fresh air, and reacquaint himself with Victory.
Sitting on the diner seat, he began leafing through the abandoned newspaper that lay at his elbow. The
Victory Herald
’s headline blared JAPS PUSH ON IN NEW GUINEA. Scanning through the article, Cole learned that the Japanese army had seized
a couple of towns on the island and were threatening Port Moresby and the American ships at anchor there. If they didn’t get
reinforcements soon, they could be pushed clean off the island. Cole closed the paper in disgust. Much of the news since Pearl
Harbor had been bad, but he still remained confident that the tide would soon turn. Heck, the Doolittle raid on Tokyo had
proven that America would fight back. It wouldn’t be long before the Japanese and the Germans would be back on their heels
and in full
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