“In a retirement community in Haven Springs,” she said.
“She’s close then.”
“Oh yeah, I see her every Saturday. I volunteer there. What about your family? Are they local? Other than Tim?”
“They were,” Jase said. “My parents retired to Wilmington a couple of years ago. I have a sister out in Colorado.” He pointed to a drawer across from the stove. “Can you grab silverware out of that drawer there, and some plates? Dinner’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Bree got silverware and plates, grabbed some paper towels, and set the table. Jase set a platter piled high with meat and vegetables on the table. Charlie and Polly moved from where they were sitting next to the stove watching Jase prepare dinner to under the table on the off chance some food might make it to the floor.
“They’ll stay on their beds if they’re bothering you,” Bree offered.
“They’re good.”
Bree smiled. So different from Chad. He’d hated when Charlie and Polly sat under the table and always insisted she put them in their kennels whenever he was over for dinner.
They sat at the small table and piled their plates high with food.
Bree spread sour cream on a tortilla. “Who did the picture over the fireplace in the living room?”
“Uh, Tony did it.”
“It’s beautiful. He’s very talented.”
“Yeah, he was.”
Bree hesitated for a moment, not sure she wanted to ask the next question. “What happened to Tony?”
Jase paused in the act of raising his food-laden fork to his mouth. He put it back on his plate and leaned back in his chair.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Bree said.
“PTSD.” Bree set the tortilla and knife down. “Really bad. He didn’t like therapy. Hated the drugs they had him on. Said it put him in a fog, so he didn’t take them for more than a couple of days at a time. One doc prescribed him some sleeping pills, but he didn’t like them since they didn’t actually help him sleep. He’d just walk around like a zombie and lose days. About two weeks after we finished the house, all the major stuff anyway, he downed the entire bottle and chased it with a bottle of bourbon.”
He paused, staring down at his plate as he pushed his food around with his fork.
“The only time I recognized the guy I grew up with was when we were hunting or fishing. He said being out in the woods was the only time he found peace. The only time his mind and soul were still.” Jase’s swallowed, his throat working more than necessary. He grabbed his beer and took a long pull as if he were trying to force the bitter memory back down.
“Anyway,” he continued, setting his beer back down and going back to his food. “I started V.E.T. Adventures a few months after that. I figured if Tony could find peace out in the woods, other guys could, too. Been slowly building it up by word of mouth since then.”
He looked at Bree, putting on a brave face, but she could see the agony he buried deep.
She reached forward and placed her fingers in the palm of his hand resting on the table. His hand closed around hers, so tight her fingers pinched together. Her thumb brushed across his fingers, doing what little she could to ease his pain. She had no words that would erase his hurt or express her sympathy, so she didn’t offer any.
They finished dinner in silence, lost in their own thoughts, but never letting go of each other’s hands.
After dinner, Bree helped Jase clear the dishes and load the dishwasher, then fed her dogs. Once everything was put away, Jase took her hand and led her out the front door onto the screened-in porch. He pulled her onto a large rope hammock and gathered her close. He tucked her into his side with one arm, the other going behind his head. Bree rested her head on his shoulder, tilting it up to look at Jase, who looked back down at her.
“You ready to finish the conversation we started in my office?” he asked.
“What if I say no?”
“Then we do it anyway.”
Bree scrunched up her face and glared at him.
Jase kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re adorable, but we’re still talking.”
“Fine.” She let out a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to know?”
