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I'll Be Waiting (The Vault Book 2) by A.M. Hargrove (6)

Chapter Eight

Lee


To say I scared my mother to death would be appropriate. She hit the brakes and I almost went through the windshield, or at least that’s what it seemed at the time.

“Mom!”

“What? You told me to stop.”

“Not like that. Jeez.”

“Well, I’m stopped now. What did you want, Lilou?”

“I saw lights on in the old depot.”

The look Mom gave me was one for the record books. “For Pete’s sake Lilou. It’s a cafe now. It opened about six months ago. Food’s real good too. And they opened a museum right behind it. The town’s taken an upswing. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

I stared at the red brick building and thought how cool it was that they hadn’t torn the place down. “Hey Mom, is this the same train depot that your grandfather came home to when he got back from the war?”

Mom smiled. “It sure is. Grandma used to tell the story all the time. How sad she was that he came home and there was no one to meet him at the train. You know, Lilou, you two probably had a lot more in common than you know.”

“How’s that?”

“When he was in France, he lost his leg when a grenade exploded.”

Wow. I didn’t know that part of his story.

That night, I pulled out old picture albums of my great-grandfather. Then I asked my mom everything I could think of.

He served in the military and lost his leg when grenades were thrown into a barn his troop had been hiding out in. When he finally made it back to Drummond, no one had been at the train depot to meet him. Sadly, while he’d been away, he’d received a Dear John letter. That’s when he decided to go to that same train station every day to meet and greet the soldiers as they returned because he didn’t want anyone else to experience what he did. It was how he’d met my grandmother. She’d heard about him and went there one day to see him. They fell in love and ended up getting married.

The following morning, after I did my physical therapy exercises, I dressed and got in my car. It had been so long since I had driven, it felt strange. As I thought about it, it was a good thing my left leg had taken the hit. Otherwise, I would’ve had to learn how to drive with my prosthesis. My physical therapist said it was time to ditch the cane. My strength in both legs was great and I had demonstrated excellent mobility. He asked about my comfort level and confidence in moving around without it. I walked around the facility for about a half hour and it actually felt better than with it. He said it had to do with the fact that now when people saw me, they didn’t see anything that indicated I had any injuries.

“What about my limp?” I asked.

“What limp? I don’t see any limp.”

I watched myself in the mirrors that ran the length of the room and I could see it—but barely.

“Only you can tell if it’s there, and it’s so slight you have to stare to notice it.”

That was the last time I used the cane.

On the way home, I stopped by the cafe. The urge to revisit the train depot had kept me up most of the night, so it was almost comforting to walk in and take a seat at a small table next to the window. I could imagine my great-granddad sitting here as a voice interrupted my ruminations.

“Can I get you something to drink?” A menu appeared in front of me and I glanced up. Long sandy hair arranged in an array of waves that crowned a face with a familiar grin greeted me.

“Jackson? Jackson Blackburn?”

“Lee? Lilou Marston! Oh my God! What a surprise. I thought you were in North Carolina. Or something like that.”

“Yeah, well, that was a while ago. I’m home for good now. And you? You’re working here? I was so excited to see this place was a cafe.”

“Really? Well, I was the fool who decided to give it a go,” she laughed.

“Wait. You’re the owner?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

“You never said anything about that before. You know, back when we were wreaking havoc in high school.” I grinned at her.

“Those were the good old days, yeah?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Ha! We were always off to no good. Remember that time we stole your grandma’s moonshine?”

“Oh, God. But we didn’t know it was white lightning until we could barely walk. And talk about sick. Ugh!”

Then we both covered our mouths and burst out laughing. “The school called our parents and they had to come and pick us up. Oh boy, did I get in trouble.”

“So did I. And from Granny for stealing that stuff!”

“So, a cafe, huh? How did I not know you had these ambitions?”

She scratched her cheek for a second before saying, “That’s because I never told anyone. I thought I’d be the laughingstock of the class. You know, Jackson the burger flipper or something. But I’m actually professionally trained in the culinary arts and I love what I do.”

“That’s great to hear. And I’m so happy to see you did it in this building. I’ve always loved this old train depot.”

“I just hope the business holds out. It’s been up and down. The town is growing and things are picking up, but it takes a lot to run this place, so we’ll see.”

“My fingers are crossed for you.”

“Thanks.”

“I hate that we lost touch over the years, but being deployed overseas sort of …” I swallowed. The words got stuck.

“Hey, I can’t begin to understand. But Lee, don’t even say another word. I’m just glad you came in.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I scanned the place, checking it out. It wasn’t like I was an expert or anything, but maybe I could help in some way. Only I spotted an adorable train depot set up as a classy cafe, with round bistro tables, crisp linen tablecloths, and artwork that dotted the walls reminiscent of a time long past. I immediately thought of my great-grandfather again.

Jackson’s voice cut through my daydreams. “I’ll be right back with your …”

“Coffee, please.” If she wasn’t getting business, it couldn’t be the ambiance. This place was charming. Maybe her cooking sucked. I would know soon enough. Checking the menu, I decided on an omelet and some pancakes. When she came back with my java, I placed my order, and off she went.

From the looks of things, she was a one-man show. I hated that for her. Even though we hadn’t seen each other since high school graduation, it was because we went our separate ways—I joined the marines and she went on to school. She had huge ambitions. I couldn’t afford college, so I did what I thought would get me ahead.

My family wasn’t poor by any means. But both my parents had to work to pay the bills. They didn’t have the extra money to send me to college, so I decided I would join the military. It was purely a financial decision so I could attend college one day. But once I left Drummond behind, I grew to like the marines. It was regimented and structured, a lifestyle I thrived in. I wasn’t one who counted the months, weeks, and days until I was discharged. In fact, I wanted to make a career out of it until … that fateful day. But now I was going to concentrate on getting my degree at the community college and perhaps even going on to law school eventually.

Seeing Jackson reminded me of our youth together, when we were silly and foolish. It’s surprising the way we both behaved we ended up doing anything constructive with our lives.

“What’s got you grinning like that?” she asked as she set two plates heaping with food in front of me.

“Jeez. That looks yummy.” And it did.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Right then, my belly let out the loudest gurgle.

“Oops.” We laughed. “Can you sit?”

She took a quick glance to make sure the other patrons were taken care of. “Only for a second. Everyone’s covered for now.”

I stuffed the forkful of food into my mouth and my eyes bulged. “Mmm. This is so good,” I managed to say around my mouthful of omelet.

A grin stretched across her face. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” Next, I cut a triangle into my pancakes and took a bite. They melted on my tongue. “Holy shit, Jackster. What’s in these?”

She cracked up. “My secret recipe.”

I swallowed and quickly cut out another triangle as I said, “Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m ever gonna make them. I hate to cook.” And I plunged the yummy triangles into my mouth. She eyed me as the breakfast vanished. My man-sized appetite took over.

“Christ, woman, how in the world did you eat all of that? Do you have a hollow leg or something? That was a lot of food and you inhaled every morsel of it.”

“Yeah.” My voice was dead serious.

“Yeah what?”

“I do have a hollow leg.”

She laughed, but then stopped when she noticed I wasn’t joining in. “What do you mean?”

“Actually, it’s not really hollow all the time. Only when I take it off.”

Her brows crunched up to form a V in the center. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I lifted my leg and moved it from its place beneath the table. Stretching it out, I knocked on it with my knuckles. “This. It’s fake. When I take it off, it’s hollow. Made out of some kind of acrylic.”

Her hazel eyes went from curious to soft in a flash. “Oh, Lilou. What … what happened?”

“You can ask me whatever. It was an IED. A Coke can of all things. I saw it against the curb and …” I shrugged, then told her the rest of the story. It was pretty surreal telling my old friend how I lost my leg. She was the first outsider I had the pleasure of watching hear the story. It wasn’t a good thing either.

“Lee, I’m so …”

“Jackson, please don’t tell me you’re sorry. You didn’t do anything, so there’s no need.”

She squinted at me, assessing. “Were you alone?”

“No. Three others were there.”

“Did they survive?”

I touch her arm. “They’re all fine.” It’s the first time I say it with pride—not because of what I did, but because they didn’t die that day.

“Any injuries?”

Shaking my head, I said, “Only minor ones.”

She let out a long sigh. “I can’t imagine going through what you did. You’re so brave, Lee.”

A change of topics was in order. Scooting my chair closer, I asked, “Have you done any advertising?”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “No, it’s not in my budget.”

“I’m no expert by any means, but maybe you ought to try a little. And what about social media?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, that’s not up my alley, ya know?”

“Why don’t I help you some?” And then I thought maybe she’s married and her husband wouldn’t like it if he knew I was up in her business. “That is if you won’t get in trouble or anything.”

She cocked her head, reminding me of a puppy trying to identify a noise. “Why would I get into trouble?”

My face began to heat and without a doubt, my cheeks must’ve been spotted with pink. “You know. With your husband or something.”

“Oh.” Her hand slashed through the air. “That didn’t last. When he realized it took a lot of hard work and late nights to become a famous chef, he dumped me like a hot iron skillet.”

My chin must’ve hit the table because a long finger reached out and pushed it up to close my mouth. I hadn’t known she’d gotten married. I was only taking a wild guess, but married and divorced. Whoa.

“Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Her narrow shoulders sagged a bit, but then lifted and straightened. “I took a chance on love and it kicked me in the ass. What can I say?”

Now didn’t that make me feel even guiltier? My hand covered my heart because I could’ve sworn it pinched my insides. Who would do that to someone?

“Lee, do you really think you can help me?”

“I just might. We can set up a Facebook page for the cafe and start boosting some posts to grab attention. Maybe hand out some flyers or hang some in nearby towns and such, and do some posting on Instagram. Easy stuff that’s either free or super cheap. And maybe we can get a few restaurant critics over here to try out the food. Breakfast and lunch, right?”

“Ideally, I’d like to be open for lunch and dinner, but right now I’m focusing on breakfast and lunch until the word gets out. I can’t afford much help, so I can run the breakfast crowd.”

Before I gave it any thought, I blurted out, “I can help in here. I don’t know a whole lot about working in a restaurant, but you can train me. And I’m free. I don’t need the money and until classes start in the fall, I’m available. Deal?”

She squinted at me long and hard. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

“No. I want this cafe to make it. This depot has been around a long time. It has meaning to this town. We only need to make the people believe in it.”

She held out her hand and said, “Deal. To old friendships.”

“To old friendships.”

When I put my palm against hers, I knew this was going to be much more than a summer job. A vision of my great grandfather passed before me in a flash. My great grandmother was walking toward him, wearing a lovely yellow dress and matching hat, and he was grinning like he’d just won the lottery. In the background, I could see the train depot. Deep in my heart, my great grandfather was letting me know this was an omen of great things to come.