Kyara shrugged, looking away.
"I know it needs kindling." she said, trying to keep the tone light. Jason shook his head.
"I'll be fine. Come knock in the morning once you're up? I'd like to get back there as soon as I can."
Kyara nodded as he stepped from the car into the street, the wind whipping his hair out from the back of his head. Once he was inside, she got out of the car and went into her restaurant.
Her apartment was right above the kitchen. It technically had an outside staircase from the side of the building, but on nights like this Kyara always took the inside stairs up from the kitchen. The inside stairs opened into what she was pretty sure had been a closet at some point. The zoning laws on the business/home were dubious, but since it had always been that way, no one in town really objected.
Her apartment was cozy and warm. The smell of the food from downstairs was starting to seep into her house as a constant companion.
It's good to be home, Kyara thought. To her surprise, it was true. This place had become home.
She changed into the flannel pajamas she'd purchased on Caitlin's advice. Their warm comfort was a welcome relief after the stress of the day. She wanted to sleep, but she hadn't eaten since before the lunch rush. Leftovers called to her. She was almost done warming them in the pan when a knock came at the outside door.
That can't be good. Did something happen to Jan the moment we left? Kyara hustled to the doorway, throwing it wide.
Jason huddled on the tiny landing outside, shivering as he held himself tight.
"Jason? Are you OK?" asked Kyara. "Come in out of the cold."
Jason stepped inside, shivering a bit. His breath smelled like alcohol.
"Sorry to bother you again," he said. "There's something stuck in Grandma's flue. It won't ... its all smoke. I can't get it unclogged in the dark."
"Don't worry about it," said Kyara. "What do you need?"
"Maybe a lift back to my place?" he said. Then he noticed what she was wearing. "No, never mind, you're ready for bed. I'm sorry. If I can borrow a few more blankets, that should be fine. It's only fall, after all."
"Don't be an idiot," said Kyara. "You'll freeze. Here, eat some of these leftovers while I go change." The plate she'd made for herself slid in front of him.
"No," he protested, "Don't."
"Well," she said, turning back to him with her hands on her hips, "I'd say just borrow my car and come back in the morning, but you smell like you shouldn't drive."
Jason studied the plate in front of him.
"I haven't had that much. It was just a little to keep warm while I got things going," he said.
"Your grandmother says
you have the alcohol tolerance of a three year old girl," responded Kyara.
"Nana's got a big mouth," said Jason sulkily. "And I'm not that bad, I just can't pack it away like she can."
Jan drunk. That would be a sight to see.
"Eat," Kyara instructed. "I'm going to get changed."
"Stay," he said suddenly. "You can change after, can't you? I ... I'd like to have someone around right now."
The admission had clearly been hard for him. Kyara sighed and went into the kitchenette.
"Fine, but I'm getting myself some food, too. You start eating."
Jason grunted his assent. She watched him with satisfaction as he picked at the food, then started eating with more enjoyment.
Silence reigned as she warmed another serving. She was suddenly very self-conscious. Being here, in her apartment, dressed only in her pajamas, felt ... intimate.