Heroes

"Ahem. I don't mean to pry, but I couldn't help overhear your conversation."

Paul glared up at the woman who'd paused by the booth where he and his parents were sitting. "Yeah?"

"If the young woman insists upon a hero for a husband then she isn't worthy of one." She said referring to the argument he and his parents were having about why Lissa turned down his proposal.

The woman leaned more heavily on her walker. "You should look for a wife who appreciates you for who you are now."

Paul ducked his head and turned the disc cover he'd been fiddling with in his hands. "She just wants me to be a cop or a fireman, that's all."

"But what do you want to be?" the old woman asked.

Paul shrugged, "I," here he paused and, through his annoyed embarrassment at being overheard in a private conversation, considered the question. "I want to be a teacher." He finally answered.

She snorted, "Then I suggest that is hero enough for anyone. You go be a teacher and find a partner who appreciates your work and you yourself." She gave a sharp nod and thudded away.

"Nosy old bat. " Paul growled. "What would she know about heroes?"

The waiter, who was refilling their glasses, said, "A lot. She and her husband were teachers."

Paul hitched an impatient shoulder, "Big deal. Lots of people are teachers."

"Yes, but not a lot of teachers die protecting their students." The waiter retorted.

"And her husband did?" his mother asked softly.

"Oh yes, and she uses that walker because she was shot when she used her body to shield some of her students from the gunman." The waiter started to walk away.

"Well, she and her husband may have been heroes, but she just left without paying." Paul's father said.

"Her bill is paid in full here." The owner said firmly as she passed by on her way out. "Always."

Once she was out the door the waiter said, "Her daughter was one of those saved that day. And mine. Now those are real heroes. Just people who did what had to be done when it needed to be done."

Paul continued turning the CD case in his hands thinking. Could he throw himself between a bullet and another person? Any other person? Maybe Lissa was right, in a way?