You're Not Broken(4)

It still carried a lot of architecture from the 1950s and 60s and had beautiful foliage surrounding the streets and city edges. There was no place else in the world that was as beautiful or as a peaceful in Kat’s eyes. Peytonville was home. It had been the place that had rescued her and her brothers and for that, she could never show enough love or gratitude.



Jason cocked his head, studying her.



“You like it here,” he said slowly, as if deducing her thoughts straight from her brain. “You like it here a lot.”



Kat blushed a little. “Pretty obvious, huh?”



“You’re practically glowing,” he said, smiling.



“This is my home,” she said simply. “It’s hard not to love it.”



Jason nodded, as if he could understand the love she bore for the town. He looked out the window towards the main street that ran down the center of downtown.



“And what do your parents do? Do they work in restaurants as well?” he asked.



Kat’s smile faltered just for a second but he had caught it. Immediately his gaze focused in on her, making her feel as if she had his fullest attention.



“My mother passed away when I was twelve,” she said softly. There was still a dull stinging that pierced her heart whenever she thought of her mother, even thirteen years later.



“I’m sorry,” Jason said softly.



There was a beat where the quiet sounds of diner surrounded them. Kat looked up to see Jason staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite understand. All she could tell though was that it held warmth.



“And your dad?” he asked.



Kat shook her head. “They divorced when I was about six. But he had never stayed around much before then. I’ve never really known the man,” she said. “After the divorce is when mom moved in with her brother—my uncle. And we’ve been here ever since.”



She had played at the diner from as early on as she could remember. Her mom had waitressed and managed the place to help her brother. And when her mom had passed, the loving women of Peytonville had all stepped up to become her surrogate mother. They had been the ones to talk her through her first period, buy her first bra, and to shop with her for her first homecoming dress.



After another pause, she said, “What about you? You know nearly everything about me now. What about your parents?”



Jason shrugged and almost grimaced at the mention of his parents. “Mom drank and dad hit,” he said simply. “It wasn’t the best place and I got out of there as soon as possible.”



“Where did you go?” she asked quietly, taken aback by his frankness.



“Army,” he answered. “It was the only place I could think of at eighteen.”



Suddenly it all made sense. There was a quiet strength and hardness to him that made perfect sense in the mold of a soldier. So he was a soldier.



“Are you at Fort Bragg?” she asked. Fayetteville was quite a way’s away from their small sleepy town.



Jason shook his head. “I’ll be stopping there on my way out. But I’m not stationed there, no,” he said. The lines of his face seemed to deepen with each word.



“On your way out?” she asked.



He nodded. “Iraq this time,” he said.



This time. How many times had he been shipped over? From the lines on his face and the darkening of his eyes, Kat could tell it had been too many times.



“I…” Kat started but faltered, not wanting to sound ignorant or insensitive. “I thought things were winding down there.”



He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “To some extent. But where one group of insurgents falls, another rises. So soldiers will always be needed.”



“When do you leave?” she asked.



“In two days,” he replied, keeping his eyes on his cup.



Slowly, Kat was starting to piece together the mysterious fragments of Jason Daniels. He was a soldier who had clearly seen a lot of battle and had been shipped off one too many times. He was rough and ragged from what he had seen and endured. He was lonely. He was hurt.



And he had wanted someone to talk to one more time before he left. He had wanted just a few moments of companionship and normal intimacy before he returned to gunfire and rage.



Kat’s heart felt for him. Although it was through different experiences, she knew of loneliness. She knew of wanting something warm and commonplace—like a mother’s hug—but unable to get it.



“You know, I—” But before Kat could finish, a gangly shadow crossed their table.



Kat looked up to see Malcolm glaring down at her. “Some of the other muggles would like their coffee too,” he said.