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“Then how about this? Ignore the fact that I’m a counselor. We’re
just friends, and friends can talk about anything. Like where you
were born or something that made you happy as a kid.”
“Why is that important?”
“It isn’t. And that’s the point. You don’t have to say anything at all
that you don’t want to say.”
Katie absorbed her words before squinting at Jo. “You’re very
good at your job, aren’t you?”
“I try,” Jo conceded.
Katie laced her fingers together in her lap. “All right. I was born in
Altoona,” she said.
Jo leaned back in her rocking chair. “I’ve never been there. Is it
nice?”
“It’s one of those old railroad towns,” she said, “you know the
kind. A town filled with good, hardworking people who are just
trying to make a better life for themselves. And it was pretty, too,
especially in the fall, when the leaves began to change. I used to
think there was no place more beautiful in the world.” She
lowered her eyes, half lost in memories. “I used to have a friend
named Emily, and together we’d lay pennies on the railroad
tracks. After the train went past, we’d scramble around trying to
find them, and when we did, we’d always marvel at how any
trace of engraving would be completely gone. Sometimes the
pennies were still hot. I remember almost burning my fingers one
time. When I think back on my childhood, it’s mostly about small
pleasures like that.”
Katie shrugged, but Jo remained silent, willing her to go on.
“Anyway, that’s where I went to school. All the way through. I
ended up graduating from high school there, but by then, I don’t
know… I guess I was tired of… all of it, you know? Small-town