A Hero Can Save Us

Hard Rock Cafe
San Diego, California
1:56 PM

California never ceased to amaze me. I felt awestruck as Milo led me inside, my eyes bounced around the restaurant as we waited to be seated. The walls were covered in beautiful Rock 'n' Roll memorabilia from all decades, the most gorgeous guitars, Gibson and LesPauls, platinum records and autographed photos of the greats lined every wall. I gazed around my mouth agape as the hostess lead Milo and I to a booth across from the bar. As we sat down Milo looked at me as if gauging my reaction before smiling with satisfaction.
"Look up," he directed, nodding toward the ceiling. I gasped as I followed his instruction, above us was a beautiful stained glass rotunda, detailing an elk surrounded by roman numerals, endowed by scenes depicting several admirable women decorated with beautiful stained glass flowers.
My eyes suddenly prickled with tears. I looked back at Milo who appeared to have been enjoying watching as I took it in with fresh eyes. A tear leaked down my cheek before I swiped it away.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked before our waitress came with menus.
After we ordered drinks and she left I told him with a shrug, "I've seen more amazing things in the last day than my entire life."
"Sometimes, when all that we've seen has been mundane, beauty knocks us off our feet," he told me knowledgeably, his eyes glittering in the fragmented sunlight from above. I nodded, feeling my cheeks grow hot from his gaze.
I allowed myself a moment to hold his eye contact, as I stared reflectively into him; I saw wisdom and a kindness unlike any other I'd ever know, before the waitress reappeared with our drinks startling me back into reality. Milo ordered a Caesar salad and I, an order of potato skins, then we were alone again, in comfortable silence stealing confused glances at each other.
"It's occurred to me that I've asked you nothing about yourself," Milo said suddenly as if disgusted with himself, "where are you from?"
I sighed inwardly, I had known this conversation was coming, it was only natural and yet it felt like an immeasurable challenge.
"I-I'm from Indiana," I muttered, before taking a sip of root beer.
"You said you'd only been here a day, so did you come for Comic-con, or," he trailed off, peering intensely into my face.
"I, uh, kind of just ran off," I admitted staring at my hands to avoid his scrutinizing look.
He then asked the Million Dollar Question, attempting nonchalance but not quite being able to keep the curiosity out of his voice, "What are you running from?"
I pulled the necklace, I'd been trying to forget existed from beneath the collar of my T-shirt. My engagement ring dangled from it, glittering exaggeratedly in the sunlight from the rotunda.
"Nothing now, I was left the day of my wedding," I told him as I removed the heavy chain, like a weight from my neck and dropped it with a tinny clink, on the table.
I looked at him, watching for signs of pity or shock but all I saw was sympathy in his hazel eyes.
"You were left at the alter?" he asked pulling the chain towards him before picking it up, rolling the ring between his fingers.
I stifled a chuckle.
"I guess that's a common misconception," I told him a laugh, "I wasn't given courtesy of being humiliated in front of my friends and family, instead I was humiliated in the privacy of a church dressing room."
"So, why California?" he asked frankly placing the necklace back on the table, "why now?" I contemplated this a moment.
"It may seem strange but I was lying in a motel in Ohio wondering what the hell I was going to do next, when an advertisement for California came on," I admitted insecure about this revelation, "I knew then I had to come here, it was the only thing that made sense."
He smiled his crooked smile as he smoothed his dark hair.
"No," he said with a laugh, "that doesn't sound like fate, at all."
I laughed too, realizing that he was right; I was lead here, to him for some reason. I was just about to tell him so, when our food arrived.
We spent the rest of the meal, talking like old friends catching up. I told him about growing up in Indiana with 3 siblings, he told me the various ways his sisters teased him as a kid. I talked to him about the difficulties of having a best friend with a child, he talked about the difficulties of owning a business with ones' immature best friend and the best part of it all was he never asked me to talk about him.
When we finished eating we began back towards the Convention, I found myself sweating buckets as we walked by a large group of Star Wars fans mostly wielding light sabers.
"It's so hot," I groaned, wiping the sweat from my brow, "I'm going to die."
He smiled mockingly, "wittle baby gonna melt in the sun?"
I gave him a skeptical look before turning to the nearest Star Wars fan with a saber, whom happened to be dressed like Yoda, "excuse me, can I borrow that?"
He hesitantly handed me a green light saber. I turned to Milo before pushing the power button on the side, activating a canned whirring noise, making me feel oddly bad ass. I began whacking him with it.
"No fair," he yelled attempting to grab it from my hands, with a laugh, "a real Jedi doesn't attack an unarmed man."
He began wrestling me for it as I continued to whack him in the sides and legs. I squealed as he suddenly pushed forward and grabbed me by the waist, before stumbling backward over his own feet and falling flat on top of me, on the sidewalk. I stared up into his face, which was pink with exertion, his hair a mess, the wind gently blowing it back and forth; I could feel his breath on my skin. I was reminded of something hard against my leg.
I burst out laughing, "is that the light saber or are you just happy to see me?"