The diner was everything I expected of a small town diner. Black and white checkered floor, red leather seats on the stools and chairs, apple pie on the counter. Then there were the unexpected things, like the fact that it was in an old train station, and that there was military memorabilia on the walls. A photo of Jake in his fatigues, smiling widely, behind the counter knocked the breath out of me and made me forget everything else for a moment. I hadn’t seen a picture of him since he’d died, and he looked so alive and so vibrant in the photo. How the hell could someone like him just be gone?
“You look a little lost, son. What can I get you?”
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