"Thank you. Me too."
"Can I get you guys started with something to drink?"
"I'll take a Diet Coke," Grace said.
"How about you, Damon?"
"Water is fine."
"Are you sure? I recall your mom telling me peach lemonade was your favorite."
"Do you still use fresh peaches?"
"Of course." Amy pointed at the menu. "I retired a few meals from the menu when I took over, but all the favorites are still there. And yes, they are your mom's recipes. I've also added a few new menu items that are marked with this little red tag."
"I'll have a peach lemonade then."
After Amy brought their drinks and took their orders, Damon pointed to the back corner. "This was my second home growing up. I came here every day after school and sat in that booth to do my homework. When I got restless, my mom gave me a damp cloth and told me to wipe down the menus or let me wander around with the little floor sweeper."
Memories came rushing back, and Damon's gaze again drifted out the window to the garage across the street. He'd missed so much in the decade he'd been gone.
"Are you okay?" Concern wrinkled Grace's forehead.
"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"You were so upbeat this morning." Her eyes bore into his. "Now, you look...somber."
"You know how on Saturday I said, 'Nothing ever changes around here?'"
"Yeah."
"I was wrong." He looked out the window again at the repair shop. "A lot has changed since I joined the Army twelve years ago." He started ticking off things on his fingers. "My Uncle Blake passed away way too young after a series of strokes. My cousin Ben moved back from California with his wife. She was killed in a car accident and his infant daughter kidnapped."
"I heard about that. That's horrible."
"I felt so bad I couldn’t be here to help search for Cassey." Damon went on. "About six months later, my dad died from a sudden heart attack. He was only sixty-three." He nodded his head toward the repair shop across the street. "My fatherowned that garage. It became my third home when I got too rambunctious for the diner. I spent a lot of time there as a teenager.” He shook his head now. “I made it home for my dad's funeral, but you never really get closure when you don't get to say goodbye."
"I'm so sorry." Grace reached across the table and put her hand on his.
A soothing warmth swept over him at the contact. "Every time I came home, something had changed. I had a new niece or nephew, or a cousin had married and started a family. Others moved back to Providence. Then last year, my mom decided to retire and sell the diner, and the family agreed to sell the repair shop also. I feel like I've missed out on so many important things."
"Thatisa lot of change."
"As long as my family owned the repair shop and the diner, I had a place to come home to. Not that I ever planned on taking over either one, but it was a constant, you know." He chuckled. "Funny thing, I joined the Army partly because I didn't want to work in the repair shop but guess what they put me to work doing."
"Working in the motor pool?" Grace said with a laugh.
"Bingo. That's one of the reasons I went to ranger school."
"If you decide to come home, I'm sure your family would welcome you back with open arms."
"I know they would, but any time I consider leaving the Army, I have to wonder if I have a place in all of this." He made a sweeping motion toward the window with his arm.
"I'm kind of in the same boat." Grace released his hand and ran a finger down the condensation on her soda glass. "With as smoothly as everything went with the sale of our old house and buying the new one, I feel like God guided me here, but I can't help but wonder why."
Damon bit his tongue to keep from saying the words that filled his mind.
Because if I ever did come home, it would be because you're here.
