"Thanks so much, Vann, I don't know how to repay you," I began, but he just smiled in appreciation.

Shaking his head and closing his eyes, he replied, "Don't be ridiculous, Jess, it was the least I could do. Hang on." He quickly got out and ran to my side of the truck and I laughed in spite of myself.

It had been ages since I actually enjoyed being with someone like this. An old but familiar feeling crept up on me: happiness. Just the sheer happiness of being with someone and enjoying the company. He was smiling as he opened my door, saying, "Madam," as he made a small flourish to the Motor Lodge I was staying in.

I blushed and stood as he grabbed my purse for me and closed the door to his truck. I nodded to the purse in his hand and said, "There's a set of keys in there, if you could just fish them out…" He stopped and looked almost surprised, like I must have been a little nuts to trust someone so quickly. It was just the comfort I felt with him, I supposed it was also the Percoset, so didn't think anything of it.

Briefly, the thought of him breaking into the room and attacking me crossed my mind, but when I looked back at him as he dug through my purse, intently searching for my keys, I just realized that that wasn't the kind of man he was. If there was one thing I prided myself in, it was the ability to read people and see through facades and lies. This was a genuine nice guy, even if he had a few secrets (like that flask on his dashboard).

"A-ha," he said under his breath as he triumphantly smiled, bringing my keys out of the mess that was my purse. I returned the smile and led him up the stairs to the room in the corner I was staying in.

When we got to the door, he made sure everything was alright and asked, "Well, if you need anything, just give me a call, here's my number." He handed me my bag and reached into his pocket for a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbling against the door and handing me the paper.

I accepted the paper with a small smile and a shiver of excitement that I hid pretty well. Unlocking and pushing open the heavy door to get into my room, I stepped in and turned on the lights. There was my room, everything that I'd ever really considered important in my life was there: the bed, with my suitcase and pillows mixed up all over it, clothes already strewn about. The dresser had a television, a bible, my photo album, and a small lamp on it, with the drawers full of clothes and other miscellaneous belongings. What was most important was my little tree, sitting on the small table to my immediate right.

It was only about a foot or so high, not even a real tree, it was a little, well taken care of plum tree, every year it flowered and made little plums and smelled like spring. It was my little piece of home away from home, it gave me life in the darkest places. What mattered the most were the ornaments I nestled in the branches: decorations from home and little odds and ends I'd collected in my travels. My family knew that I loved decorating my tree and would get me chinsy little things here and there. There was a little ceramic cat tied to one branch that I had played with at my grandmother's house since I was a little girl. Then there were small pictures of family and friends circled with ribbon on some branches, a hand of Fatima from a friend's trip to Morocco, a little Guatemalan worry doll from my other world-traveling friend.

My mind was working a thousand miles per hour and I was suddenly shy, excited, nervous, anxious, and hopelessly romantic all at once. As I turned around, I saw Vann standing there, looking at the room, and suddenly I didn't know what to say. "Thank you so much, Vann, you really are a special guy," I managed to come out with. Immediately after I said it, I regretted it. That was the most idiotic, clichéd thing to say!

He turned back and smiled to himself, saying, "It's no problem, honestly." I smiled and he continued, "What's this?" he walked over to the table with my tree on it and fingered a branch that had a tiny wicker basket resting on the end of it, from my aunt in Rhode Island.

I laughed it off and shrugged, saying, "Oh, it's nothing really, it's just a little plum tree, it's my reminder of home I guess. I put all the things that mean something to me in it, tie them to the branches. When I was younger, I had this thing with the little plum tree my mother had, so she got me one of my own and I started my little collection."

He eyed everything with wonder, taking in every detail and staring back at me, amazed, "This is beautiful, you made this by yourself?"

I shrugged again and replied, "Well, I decorate it, yeah. But the little ornaments are from friends and family, they all have a little story behind them. That cat, my grandmother gave me when I was little, I always used to play with it at her house, and so she gave it to me. My father went on a lot of business trips so he got me the little international things there… the polish eagle, the little Tibetan monk figure…my extended family I guess you could say."

He laughed in amazement, then looked back at me, searching my face. I blushed a little but kept it together.

Staring at his blue eyes then looking out at the highway beyond his face, it hit me: I'd left my car at the diner! "Oh, no! I have no ride to work in the morning; my car is at the diner!"

He looked back in surprise then hit himself in the forehead with his open palm, "Oh, no, I knew there was something!" We shared a good laugh and it was like I was normal again. I honestly couldn't remember a time when I was happier, aside from when I first saw Vann walk into the Colonial earlier that evening.

"Well, what time should I swing by to pick you up then?" he said as if it were second nature. It took me by such surprise that he laughed at my expression: I thought I was just going to have to call a cab in the morning.

"No, really, you don't have to, Vann, you've done so much already, that's more than I could ask for," I gushed, shaking my head.

He was adamant, "No, I want to. Besides, I never got my cheeseburger tonight, I'm kind of hungry for some of that diner food I missed out on tonight."

I laughed in spite of myself for like the 10th time that night and said with amazement and reluctance, "Well, that's true I guess…You could come by at around 7 or so…I have to work the early morning shift. Don said that since I left early tonight, I have to make up the hours by coming in for the morning and staying till close."

His face was suddenly like stone and I almost thought that he had been like this the whole night: I was just dreaming that he was the perfect gentleman. "That's ridiculous." I stopped smiling and got a little worried at his change in mood.

"What is?" I asked.

"That bastard can't cut you any slack, can he? Geez, that just bugs me, people like that really need some sense knocked into them, need to get shown the way to treat people," he said, getting fumed. I suddenly remembered thinking about him coming in and attacking me, so I backed up past my doorway and into the safety of the room. If I needed to, I could just swing the door back in front of me and close it, locking him out if he decided to get violent.

He must have seen me step back and broke out into a panicked apology, "Oh, no, Jess, I wasn't… no, I didn't mean anything by it… I was… I'm sorry, please… I just got upset with him, I'm not going to get crazy or anything." He opened his hands in front of him, palms up, showing he didn't mean anything and I smiled.

"Listen, I'm so sorry. I just… I was just angry, he shouldn't be treating you like that. But that's just the way he is, and there's nothing I can do, so that's fine. 7 you said? I'll be here about quarter of, sound good?" He explained and made up for everything, showing me that he was just a little ticked, nothing to worry about…

"That'll be great. I'll see you then, Vann, thanks." I nodded and reached out, resting a hand on his arm as he turned with a smile.

"Goodnight, sweet dreams, Jessica," he said, holding my hand where it was then turning and jogging back to the steps we came up.

I closed my door and leaned up against it on the inside, smiling like there was no tomorrow. I hadn't felt that since high school, and it was the best feeling in the world. I closed my eyes and felt a squeal of happiness start up inside me as I burst out into a running in place-squealing like a schoolgirl frenzy, ending in a leap onto the bed, causing the people in the rooms below and to the left of me to bang on the walls to shut me up.

But I didn't care, there was no stopping me. Maybe I wasn't as crazy as I thought I was in the first place. Maybe there was finally someone worth being "normal" for. To change yourself, I'd heard that you have to change people and places. I changed places every month pretty much, and people were just passing in and out of my life up till this point. Now, maybe there was something finally changing in my life. I could only hope.

**

After taking a quick shower and taking my medicine, I laid down on the bed, not yet under the covers, to watch some TV. I turned on the local news just in time for it's late night run, and saw the strip of highway outside the Colonial on the screen. I sat up, turning up the volume to hear the reporter talking about how the manager of this small local eatery was found dead in the back room by a waitress earlier this evening.

I gasped and stood up, unable to believe it, feeling the tears stinging my eyes. He'd given me a job, helped me get on my feet… But at the same time, I couldn't let the tears fully form. There was no sadness. He was a tyrant in the most basic sense of the word, an ass, plain and simple. I guess he wouldn't have to rule with an iron fist anymore. That meant no early shift tomorrow…I had to call Vann.

Letting it ring a few times, it occurred to me that he was no doubt sleeping. A woman's voice answered sleepily, "Hello?" It wasn't Vann. I panicked, but kept it together.

"May I please speak to Vann?" I asked, not sure whether I had dialed the right numbers or what. But I heard the voice calling out to him, then his voice picking up on another line, saying, "Thanks, I got it…Hello?"

I froze: it was a woman. He was married. He couldn't have been... I didn't see a ring on his finger. "Hello??" he asked again.

I was angry now. Not just at Vann for not telling me, but at myself for being a stupid teenager again. "Hey, Vann, sorry to wake your wife there, I just wanted to tell you not to pick me up in the morning."

He faltered as he said, "What? Wi… wife? No, Jess… I'm boarding here at a house on Franklin Avenue; that was Mrs. Vail, my landlord…You don't have to go in? What's wrong?"

I breathed a sigh of relief, but wanted to smack myself for jumping to conclusions and being mad and confusing him. "Oh… sorry, Vann… it's just... Don's dead, they found him in the back of the diner tonight after we left… so I guess that means no more early shift," I said shrugging to myself, forgetting that he couldn't see me and smiling at the fact that we were on the phone and he remembered me and it hadn't all been a dream.

He was silent at first, but then spoke a little quieter, "He's dead? Wow…" I nodded and realized he couldn't see me again, hitting myself in the forehead for acting like a stupid schoolgirl again. "Do they know how he died or anything? I'm so sorry…" he said back at normal volume.

I said, "No, I just saw the blurb about it on the news and figured I'd call you, I honestly don't care about how or why or whatever, actually… he was a real dick." He laughed at this.

"That's for sure… hey, now we can sleep in. I'll be by around noon or so, to go bring you to your car if you'd like, okay?"

"Sure, that would be great, thanks Vann. Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, Jessica."

And so began our "adventure".