Deciding that he'd given the postal service enough time to work (and if he hadn't, he'd just have a confusing conversation with Jaye for a bit), Jarod dialed a familiar number. After all, he needed to know where to pick her up.

[ooc: For Jaye, and maybe some cows and horses and chickens]

Jarod was behind the grill, keeping an eye on the front door as he cooked eggs, pancakes, and burgers for the truckers who came in. He'd escaped from the Centre--where he'd spent the last few months doing and experiencing things he didn't really want to think about again, ever. The alternative was Sydney's life. Someone had finally discovered ( Read more... )