Magnolia Cafe was a popular rustic Austin restaurant that served health-food nuts, junk-food junkies, yuppies, hippies, gays, and straights at every hour of the day and night.
“I love their gingerbread pancakes,” Martin exclaimed. It was about 3 A.M. “And their black beans.”
A slacker-looking waitperson rushed up and flipped open an order pad.
“The ham and cheese omelette,” said Busenburg, “and I want cheese all over it.”
“That is so unhealthy,” Martin replied. “You do not need to put that cheese all over that omelette.” She knew she could sometimes be pushy. “It’s already in it.” She ordered the gingerbread pancakes.
Over their breakfast, Busenburg slowly said, “My father was a Green Beret who physically and sexually abused me.” Tears began to eke from his eyes. “When I was nine years old, he was abusing me, and I shot and killed him in self-defense.”
Martin gasped. She thought he looked, at that very moment, like he was reliving the event. “Why are you telling me this? You just met me.”
“Because you’re different,” he answered, gazing into her eyes. “You’re different. You’re the first girl I’ve met that I feel I can open up to.” He looked away. “After that, they put me in a boys’ home. It was so strict, but that’s where I learned my manners.”