Page 31 of The Things That Hold Us

As I exhale my deep breath, I hear a throat clear.

“Is this seat taken?”

Logan.

I look up, and put a smile on my face.

“No, it isn't.”

His lips quirk up in that way they do, “Do you care if I take it, then?”

I wave a hand, as if to saygo ahead.

He sits, leaning back and crossing his ankle over his knee, and just watches me for a second.

“Why are you everywhere?” I ask him, keeping my tone light so he knows I don't mean that in a bad way.

He chuckles, then says, “Well, I have a lot of free time now that I’m home, and having to take a break from working. Not much else to do here.”

That’s right, he’s home from the military. But taking a break from working? I want to ask, but I don’t want to pry. He’ll tell me if he wants to.

“I see. So you just wander around town?”

“Sometimes. Most of the time I’m at home though, helping my sister around the house. She’s a single mom, so I help as best as I can when I’m here.”

A single mom.

My mind starts working, the gears cranking. That must mean that little girl is probably his niece, not his daughter.

Again, not my place to ask.

He grows quiet, and I don't push conversation, because frankly I’m not in a very talkative mood, and just want to enjoy the silence.

After a minute, he says,“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s wrong?”

I pinch my eyebrows in confusion, “What do you mean?”

He eyes me for a minute, then shakes his head and looks down at his hands.

“I don’t know. Just something seems off about you today.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure how to respond to that.

“Is there any way I can help?” he asks, making eye contact with me, and I feel my heart sink deeper into my chest.

“No, not really. It’s just..” I pause. “It’s my birthday today. And that tends to be an emotional day for me.”

He nods his head as if understanding, then says. “Birthdays are emotional in general. It’s another year alive, and for some, that's an accomplishment.”

I look up at him, and his dog tags that are always on his neck. I have no clue what this man has gone through in his life, and I know nothing about him essentially, but I get the feeling he understands what I’m going through, and how I’m feeling.

“You’re right. I guess I don’t have it so bad.”

He looks around, then says, “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”

I watch as he stands, and enters the cafe. He goes to the display case, and points to a few things. As he’s paying, I quickly turn my head before he notices me watching him.

I look down at my feet, and fidget my hands nervously.

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