But what struck Timothy most was the expression on her face. Determination mixed with something that looked like barely contained desperation. And then Jon’s hamster escaped during showand tell and ran under Mrs. Faith’s desk. And she screamed so loud. Six-year-old Stara was in the middle of an animated story, her hands gesturing wildly. Timothy smiled at his daughter, but kept watching the woman. She approached a table near the door where a couple sat close together, clearly on a date.
He saw her speak to them, saw the woman shake her head firmly. The young woman on crutches nodded, apologized, and moved to another table where a man sat alone. Papers and laptops spread everywhere. Again, she was refused. Timothy watched her shoulders slump. Watch the way she bit her lip as if fighting back tears. Daddy, are you even listening? Starless voice pulled him back. Of course, sweetie, the hamster escaped. That was like 5 minutes ago. Now I’m telling you about But Timothy’s attention had drifted again.
The woman on crutches was standing in the middle of the cafe now, looking around with an expression that broke his heart. Lost, alone, like she was about to give up on something important. For a brief moment, their gazes met across the crowded cafe. Timothy saw vulnerability there, hope, and a deep sadness that seemed to radiate from her very core. She took a breath, adjusted her crutches, and started walking towards them. “Excuse me,” she said softly when she reached their corner table by the window.
Her voice was steady, but Timothy could hear the emotion trembling underneath. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I know this is probably strange, but would you mind if I shared this table with you? The cafe is completely full,” and I She paused, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. I really need to be here today. It’s very important to me. Timothy stood immediately, pulling out the empty chair across from them. Of course, please sit. I’m Timothy, and this is my daughter, Stara.
Relief washed over the young woman’s face like sunrise, breaking through storm clouds. She carefully settled into the chair and propped her crutches against the wall beside her. Thank you. Thank you so much. I’m Moon. She looked at them both, and Timothy saw her eyes were wet with tears that hadn’t quite fallen. I asked those other tables first, but they said they needed privacy. I was starting to think I’d have to leave, and I, her voice caught in her throat, I really couldn’t bear to leave without being here for a while.
“We are happy to share our table,” Timothy said warmly. “This place gets crazy when the weather’s nice.” Stara, never one to be shy, leaned forward with bright curiosity. We come here every single Saturday. It’s our special tradition. I always get hot chocolate with extra extra whipped cream, and Daddy gets boring black coffee. She wrinkled her nose at Timothy’s mug. Do you like hot chocolate? Moon smiled, and despite the sadness that clung to her, the smile reached her eyes.
I love hot chocolate. That sounds perfect for today. A server appeared and Moon ordered coffee and a croissant. As the server left, Stara launched into conversation with the enthusiasm only a six-year-old could muster. I am in first grade and my teacher is Mrs. Faith and she has a hamster in our classroom named Cheeto because he’s orange and fluffy. Do you have any pets? I don’t right now, Moon said, her fingers wrapped around her coffee cup like she was trying to absorb its warmth.
But I used to have a cat named Luna. She was gray with white paws. That’s such a pretty name. Luna means moon in Spanish. My friend Maya taught me that. Her family speaks Spanish. Moon’s smile widened. It does. That’s exactly why I named her that. Timothy found himself relaxing as they talked. There was something about Moon. Despite the sadness she carried, she listened to Star with genuine interest. She asked follow-up questions about school, about Cheeto the hamster, about Stara’s best friend when she mentioned it.
