Jessi's Run On Blog @thejessiwalker - Tumblr Blog

Priceless

Preface

Every day people stared at her,they all thought they knew her secrets. Some at least were polite enough to pretend they weren’t, others were surprisingly bold. Her story made national news, she was famous until the next scintillating scandal came along. “Tragedy in an idyllic town.” The sharks swarmed and ate it up. People that had seen her once or twice all vied for attention, just so they could get their 15 minutes. “How fortunate she’d been found, what a lucky girl she was.” This was repeated over and over, it was the town’s mantra.

Even now that the world had forgotten her, she wasn’t allowed to forget. Four years later and she was still reminded daily of “god’s plan” and her “greater plan”. She smiled politely, but it was all crap. She wasn’t raised to believe in a greater being and certainly didn’t believe in luck. How could anyone consider what happened to her luck? No family left and no sense of security. Her life had been destroyed in that missing year. After the police got the information they needed from her she stopped telling her story. She claimed she couldn’t remember what happened but she really just didn’t want to talk about it. There would be no book deals or public appearances for her.

After the attention died down she was moved out of her small town to a safe house in another city, given a new name. She lived with other girls that had similar experiences. Everyday consisted of classes and therapy sessions to “enrich their lives”. In the rare event that they left the compound body guards accompanied them everywhere, for her benefit. Most of the girls were abused by family members or had been involved with some sort of addiction. She, on the other hand had legitimate threats to watch out for. The bad guys had never been caught and probably never would. She remembered their promises and knew what they were capable of. Even now she wished they had followed through on their intentions, she regretted being found. At least then she knew what awaited her, rather than this hiding act, not that she ever voiced that aloud.

The young girl longed to live in anonymity, to be one person among the masses. Her walls were covered with pictures: Paris, San Francisco, New York City. There she could blend in and truly disappear. All she wanted was to be left alone, become a nobody. Inside her closet door, behind her coat, hung a small calendar that contained large black X's leading to a destination. Twenty more days were left (she counted them every night) until the square circled in red. That box, the most important box in her life, contained one simple word : “Disappear”.

The wedding invitation that had arrived earlier, addressed simply “Wren”, lay on her kitchen table where it had landed after being read for the third time. Now, she paced her kitchen irritated and annoyed. Why did this bother her? It wasn’t a shock, she knew he was engaged. Really it shouldn’t matter. She was over the moon that one of her best friends, Sam, was getting married. So why wasn’t she happy? Sure at one point she held an unrequited love, or was it lust, for him, but so had all the other girls on campus. Besides, that was ten years ago and well before they had gotten to know each other. Eventually her friend Jen’s boyfriend, Tom or was it Tad, brought Sam along to the movies. After spending time with him her crush had quickly dissipated. Sure he was hot, but he went through girls fast and had no intention of settling down ever. Is that what bothered her?

Picking up the phone she called Liza, the final addition to their quartet after a failed date with none other than Sam. Sam liked his dates ditsy and easy. Liza was the exact opposite but luckily had clicked with Jen and Wren while at the bar that Sam had taken her to. After that Sam couldn’t get rid of her even if he wanted to. Always the rational one of the group, Liza could keep a secret unlike Jen who couldn’t lie if her life depended on it. During their college years Liza’s major in business, specifically her negotiating skills, had come in handy many times. When they were caught having their own party in Sam’s dorm room, Liza had managed to not only get them off the hook but the guard on duty gave them tips how to avoid getting discovered the next time. She could always be counted on to evaluate a situation and let you know what you needed to change.

The phone rang and was, predictably, picked up on the second ring. “Hello, the office of Elizabeth Strong. How may I direct your call?” drawled Liza’s secretary.

“Hi Gina, its Erin, is Liza in?” The only people that knew her by Wren were her friends and at one point her family.

“Oh hey honey. I didn’t recognize you. I’ll put you right through. I know it will come as a shock buy Ms. Strong is actually free for a bit this afternoon” she laughed.

Laughing, Wren agreed, “Yeah Gina, that is a shock. Are you sure she isn’t sick?”

The other end of the line filled with laughter. “You know I may have to check on that, although I doubt she would stay still long enough for me to check. I bet she’s reorganizing her books for fun. Here ya go, it was nice hearing your voice.” Gina always was so friendly, Wren thought, I really should stop by the office more.

After a few more rings her friend picked up the line. “Hello stranger. How are you?”

“Hey Liza. Everything is good. Just having a bad day and needed to hear your voice.”

“What happened, Wren? Let Dr. Liza help. My next meeting isn’t for an hour and I’m going crazy.” She actually sounded desperate, Liza hated down time about as much as Wren hated being busy.

Stifling a laugh she dove right in, there was no use tiptoeing with Liza. "So… I got the invitation to Sam’s wedding.”

“Oh I know. I got mine today too. It’s going to be a fantastic wedding. Social event of the year probably. Just think about all the press it will get.” Liza sounded excited, she lived for the social pages.

“Yeah Liza, it is great. But I don’t know, somehow I can’t get excited. I mean I’m happy for him but…” she trailed off not knowing the ending.

“Wren, what’s wrong? You sound upset and you never get upset.”

“I don’t know. I had a crappy day at work and then I came home to this. For some reason it bothers me and I can’t figure out why.” She was angry, with herself. “I mean I love Sam, he is the brother I never had. I just never thought this day would come. Sam, getting married. Really?”

Liza laughed, “Yeah I know, he swore he would never get married and settle down. I think he even added it in to my wedding ceremony when he married John and I.” In true Sam style he had become ordained on the internet through some Star Wars church to be the officiant in Liza’s wedding.

“I guess that’s part of it. I mean it was always the two of us against the two of you. The unmarried that were happy being unattached and free. Now it’s just me against everyone.” Was that it? They were her only family. She had left her old life behind when she went to college and created a new life with her friends. Now, even terminal bachelor Sam was growing up and moving on.“Sometimes it feels like I’m being left behind.”

“Oh Wren, you know that’s not true!” Liza scolded. “We are always here for you, that will never change.”

“I know that. It just feels like I made some horrible mistake. Spending all that time focusing on school and then work while you all lived life. Where did it get me?”

“Honey, you have a great career. Not everyone’s path is the same. What matters isn’t where you wind up in the end, it’s how you got there.” Liza was always so calming yet this time it wasn’t working.

“Yeah I guess. For some reason it feels like something is ending. Maybe it’s just this week getting to me.” she sighed.

“You need to take some time off and go on a vacation. Come with us to Cancun next month. It will be like the old days and don’t even try to tell me you can’t afford it. I do your taxes, I know what you have in savings.” Liza was always going on trips with someone, Wren couldn’t remember who the “us” was this time.

“Liza, as fabulous as that sounds you know my answer. Nice try though, Maybe next time you go to a cabin in the woods…”

Liza’s gasp was audible through the phone, “Wren, really, a CABIN? Eww, how dreadful would that be? I can’t even…”

Wren laughed at the genuine horror in her friend’s voice. Liza hated everything about nature. Her idea of a vacation was a resort on the beach with all of the amenities, climate control, and an indoor pool. A trip to the woods, where there were bugs and insects, would send her in to convulsions.

“Oh Liza we will just have to agree to disagree. I can’t imagine anything more wonderful than disappearing from everything. No cell service, nothing to worry about but relaxing in nature. Laying out under the stars not having to worry about who might be around. One of these days I’m going to do it, cut contact from the world for a few days.” It sounded so wonderful and reminded her of the good parts of her childhood, long before everything changed drastically.

A little while later, after catching up with careers and with promises to spend time together, they hung up. Wren felt somewhat better but she was still restless and stuck in the past. They had been inseparable in college. Jen was always the one looking to go out and have fun. Sam, always looking for some action, was the instigator of their more mischievous and often semi-illegal stunts. Liza always found ways to either keep things within the law or get them out of trouble, while Wren was often reluctantly dragged along with the convincing of all three.

Wren’s childhood never was what she suspected normal to be. Her parents had moved to their sprawling country farm before she was born. It was their intention to move as far away from modern society as possible and they certainly succeeded. No one lived anywhere near them, the nearest neighbor being five miles toward town. The town itself was quaint, if not a little antiquated. One stop light, a market, post office, bar, and a one room school. No one bothered them when they decided to home school their daughter, there were hardly and children in town as it was.

Her parents would always talk about things she didn’t understand. The stories they told had warnings about strangers and being found by “the man”. Mostly she just laughed and ignored them. Days were spent exploring nature and in her imaginary worlds, often she would be the dragon, knight or queen in some grand adventure. Rarely, though, was she the helpless princess in need of rescuing. Sometimes the princess needed to rescue the brave knight from the clutches of the dragon. A lot of the books she read with her parents had powerful women helping the men out of their mistakes not the other way around. Sure Princess Leia had been captured and rescued, but she had also held her own.

Her parents never really worked much that she could tell. Her mother spent most of her time with Wren reading or playing music. Dad often spent his days in the fields with his crop. Wren wasn’t quite sure what he grew, they were strange looking green plants, but she didn’t really care. Once a year after dad harvested his crop they would get all done up and go in to the closest city. It was always fun to see the newest fashions. They would go to book stores, see a movie, and then go to a fancy restaurant (or at least fancy to her). There were boxes that played music, giant milkshakes, and endless fries. It was such a treat to feel so sophisticated and different. One day, she would tell herself, she would be just like these people. Busy, bustling, and full of life. She longed to be dressed in fancy clothes everyday and someday she dreamed she would even own her own briefcase.

********************************************************

When it was time to go to college Wren caught the first bus out of town and just left. Jen was the first person she met when she arrived on campus. It was impossible to talk to her and not like her. Life was always sunny in Jen’s life, which was what drew Wren to her. They had experienced such different lives that Wren wanted to believe that there was another way. A new city meant she could leave her past behind and start over. She couldn't let that opportunity pass her by.

College flew by with the same general rhythm. Study, work, read, repeat. Some friends drifted in and out of her life, but she could always count on Jen, Liza, and Sam. They were her foundation, her new family.

Her friends, though, had made it their mission to find her a love match. Although Wren had the occasional boyfriend, her college years were spent with her head in a book. Sure she had dated here and there but, given the choice, would rather stay home. Much to their dismay, most of her time was spent studying or with her various hobbies. Frat parties and bars just never held any appeal. All of those sweaty, drunk people packed into an insanely small place just made her anxious. They kept trying to get her out more and she kept trying to get them in to her interests, all with no discernible success.

A few things from her old life had held on, her love of anything medieval and fantasy novels. In those stories a person could believe again, just for a short while, that true love existed. Even though Wren knew better it was nice to get lost in another, simpler time. Wren didn't believe romance existed but was still a romantic at heart. Along with the fantasy, her down time had evolved to include certain television programs (particularly starring British men calling themselves Doctors). Her friends just didn't understand when she would get excited over a new plot twist, cry over a character's absence, or impatiently wait for a new book to be released. Yes, her friends were there for her, but there were parts of her that they just didn't get.

Graduation came in the blink of an eye and passed just as quickly. Years went by but their friendships endured. They all settled in to new lives and careers, but they all stayed within an hour drive of each other. Jen married first but about a year later it was Liza's turn to walk down the aisle. Of course they were all involved in the weddings. Sam was an honorary bridesmaid in Jen's wedding and performed Liza's ceremony. Wren was a bridesmaid in each wedding and now ten years since leaving college was set to reprise the role for Sam’s wedding.

Of course she was thrilled but she couldn't help but look back on the not so recent past. Where had the years gone? Life was finally hers to control. She'd graduated first in her class and built a career from the ground up. Her life was devoted to helping others and she was good at it. Yet, when she returned to her two bedroom apartment, the silence was always there. She couldn't help wonder if she had gone wrong somewhere. Her friends were focused on their new lives now. Jen had two kids, a dog, and lived in the country with her doctor husband. Liza married a politician and was always busy with some fundraiser or party. Sam had even exchanged his busy life in the city for a house in the suburbs and a dog. What did she have? A lonely apartment and a cat. There was nothing wrong with that life, but she felt like something was missing.

Wren stopped believing in fairy tales and happy endings long ago. Her knight in shining armor faded away with her obsessions of boy bands and belly shirts. There was no urge to deal with a relationship and all the drama that it produced. Yet lately, even though she'd never admit it aloud, she just wanted someone to talk to at the end of the day. Her worst secrets were kept to herself and never even tried to reveal them. This was why none of her romantic relationships had ever worked out, she never let anyone behind her wall. Sure they got to know her but there was always a part of her that she hid and after a while they just gave up on her. Although it used to make her sad, now she just accepted it as a casualty of her life plan and moved on. She knew herself and that was all that mattered. A small part of her longed to have someone to share all of her secrets with and not feel judged or inadequate.Once they found out who she truly was they would just run away anyhow. It was better for them to give up on her than find out.

Calling Liza helped to a point but Wren still felt wound like a spring, at any moment the tension would become too great and just break. She tried taking a bath, perusing the internet (which was usually a treasure trove of male inspiration), and even baking, yet nothing eased the restlessness that had settled in. Friday nights usually consisted of donning her best fuzzy pajamas and catching up with the her favorite Doctor while her cat, Hame, cuddled. Rather than being a comfort, the thought of spending another night at home simply added anxiety to her already near frantic state. After wearing a circle around her apartment she decided to do something, anything, as long as it meant leaving. Drastic steps were needed to combat this unusual agitation.

Diving in to the dark recesses of her closet she retrieved and put on her pretty yellow dress (the shorter flowing one that Liza had insisted she needed), a black cardigan, and her black ballet flats. Normally these clothes were reserved for their Sunday brunches but it also gave her confidence. The little flowers on the bodice made her feel feminine while the loose chiffon skirt hid her flaws. After applying a modest amount of makeup, taming her hair, she examined her reflection. The woman staring back at her looked confident enough, maybe she could fool people into believing she actually was.

Wren had no idea what she was going to do. It was a crisp day, but she had no clue where to start. If she called her friends for advice they would either laugh at her or keel over from shock. Google was not very supportive of her plight and gave way too many options to even attempt to read through. There was no one left to go out with and nowhere to go. The only concrete destination was out of this apartment that was growing smaller by the minute.

Heading to the door she panicked. People had always warned her about the danger of going out alone. Safety in numbers and responsibility after dark, yet here she was contemplating the exact opposite. It was still light out, only six o'clock, if she made it back before dark it would be fine. Pepper spray was in her purse in its own pocket along with her safety whistle and mini baton. She would just go out for a walk, maybe around that park she always passed, afterward she could come back home to eat dinner. A walk in the fresh air would bring her out of this strange state. Drawing on all of her courage she locked her door and headed down the stairs. As was habit she quickly checked in with Jim, the aging doorman, to let him know she was leaving and pushed the doors open.

***

Stepping in to the sunlight her mood improved immediately. It was a bright spring day, not a cloud in the sky, and still a few hours left until sunset. What a perfect time to clear her head. Although she had lived in this apartment for five years Wren had never really gotten brave enough to wander alone. Tonight, whether out of desperation or insanity, she was feeling brave. It really wasn’t that bad a neighborhood after all. So with a quick text to her best friend Jen, just so someone else knew, she crossed the street and set off toward the park.

Every day Wren passed the park but never stopped, there was never any need to. She was always either rushing to work or couldn’t wait to get home. The large, stone fenced oasis had looked intriguing, its large wrought iron archway and surrounding stonework always seemed out of another time. It was only a block away and directly on the usual route.

Walking, she soaked in her surroundings. How had she never noticed the gorgeous old buildings? Had everything really been that big of a haze? Her life had been so consumed with sticking to the plan that it seemed everything had passed right by. All that showed for the last few years was an empty apartment and pictures of other people’s lives. It was on this thought that she reached the park’s sentries, two rather mischievous looking gargoyles.

The air changed immediately as she stepped through the threshold. Her senses were assaulted with nature. Verdant greens of the grass and trees mixed with foliage of every possible color. There were rivers of blues, reds, and yellows mixed among the stone flower beds and planters. Sweet fragrances of roses and orchids wafted over her. Strolling, she followed an old cobblestone pathway that led her deeper into nature. Cherubs were scattered throughout the landscape and the canopy of trees hid secret hideaways complete with benches. There were even iron lampposts providing light to the shaded areas.

The deeper she went, the more the ambient sounds of the surrounding city faded being replaced by the rustle of the leaves and, somewhere, flowing water. How could she possibly stay in her apartment after finding this oasis? Just when she thought of leaving to find dinner she turned a corner only to be amazed again. In the middle of a clearing stood a large, ornate fountain with an angel welcoming her with open arms. Wren walked the perimeter of the fountain, which was of course surrounded by more flowers, just taking in the serenity. Coming close to the front of the angel she spied a small canopied alcove to the left with a bench. Sitting down she was nearly invisible to anyone entering the clearing, yet she could see the entire area perfectly. This would definitely be her new spot to read. Forget sitting on her couch with her cat, this was heavenly.

All thoughts cleared as she watched the water bubble out and make pathways along the base of the fountain, absorbing everything around her. Nature recharged her much as it had during her childhood in the country. No one was pressing for her attention and there was nothing that needed to be done. How long had it been since she felt truly peaceful?

Suddenly the peace was broken by a rather obnoxious trill. What on earth could be making that noise? Was it some weird type of bird or maybe a really angry squirrel? Getting up to investigate the source, which seemed to be very close, reality started to fade back in. The offensive noise was coming from her purse, it was her phone. Dumping the contents the wretched device was retrieved and hastily answered without even checking the caller id. Only a few people had her number and it felt like a cardinal sin to disrupt the tranquility of her surroundings with such an awful noise.

Before anyone spoke there was a loud crash on the other end of the line. “Hello?” Another loud crash echoed through the phone followed by laughter and then silence. That’s weird, she thought, must’ve been a pocket dial. Promptly returninged her belongings to her purse, she started to make her way back to the outside world. It really was for the best, she thought, as her stomach release a rather menacing sounding growl. Wren had been in the park for so long the sun was starting to set and the issue of dinner had yet to be decided.

Making her way back to the entrance her phone chimed again. The caller id said “Jen”. Bracing herself she answered. ”Hello?”

"Hey Wren. Just checking up on your big night out." Jen was her usual chirpy self and true to pattern used her old nickname. "Sorry about the last call. Bruno chose that moment to climb the curtains, which were definitely not meant to hold him."

"Oh my god, Jen, is he OK?"

"Yeah, relax. He’s fine. I can’t say the same for my curtains though. I got a picture of it, it was pretty funny. I’ll text it to you."

"How is that monster? I can’t believe he is going to be four this month?" She adored her godson, but he could be quite the handful. He was always getting in to something or somewhere that he shouldn’t. Once, he had even painted the kitchen floor with shaving cream.

"Wren…" Jen impatiently sighed "We are all fine, nothing new to report. Now DISH!"

"About…" she really had no idea what Jen was searching for.

"Wren, I’m living vicariously through you now. It’s eight o'clock and you are out on a Friday night. Where did you go? Are there any cute guys? I need details! The dirtier the better."

"Sorry to disappoint you Jen, but there is not much to report. I went for a walk in the park and got distracted. It really is gorgeous here, you need to see it next time you come over. There’s this gigantic fountain. You should see the flowers too, it smells incredible. I’m coming back with my books. There are gargoyles, Jen, and benches and…"

As she was excitedly describing her new discovery, she was interrupted by Jen’s laughter.

"What?" Had she said something funny?

"That’s my bird. Always getting distracted in some fantasy."

"Yeah, I guess it is." Wren sighed. Why was that so humorous?

"Hey, are you OK? You sound down. I didn’t mean anything by it." Jen seemed confused.

"Yup, Jen, its fine. I’m just tired and hungry. I’ve got to remedy that and get home before its too dark. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We’re still on for Sunday brunch right?"

"Bird", Jen scolded, "I don’t know why you insist on asking. We’ve met at Georgie’s every Sunday for the last ten years, except for when I was in labor. That is never going to change."

"Alright, just checking. Love you." She sighed as she hung up the phone. Your life could change in an instant and she knew that better than anyone.

**********************************************************

Standing on the cusp between this magical discovery and reality, a very important decision needed to be made. Should she turn right and cook dinner at home or turn left and find somebody to cook dinner for her? As in any decision, she mentally started analyzing the benefits to each side. On one side, she already had food in her apartment and it was more cost effective to just eat in. The other side, though, was telling her to ignore all that crap and keep wandering. No matter how much she adored her cat, Hame, the thought of eating a dinner for two with her trusty companion was unbearable. It wasn't such a hard decision after all, she laughed, as she turned left. This was a decent sized city and she was fairly close to its center. Wren wasn't picky about food, so the chances of finding something wherever she went were high. This magical, meandering night had drastically improved her agitated state. Already she was relaxed and felt like she was floating on a cloud.

Strolling further from her home she puzzled over her apparent blindness at her surroundings. Daily she taught others how to be more observant, yet she never took her own advice. It was astounding how strange this neighborhood seemed to her. Wren might as well have just moved in. The old Victorian brownstones were enchanting in the setting sun as she walked, neck craned, much like the tourists she loathed. Upon first glance the houses looked identical, one giant building spanning the block. However, looking closer they were all unique creations each with their own quirks. The window sills in one were triangular while the next was rectangular. Another had a pointed, sloped roof right next to a rounded profile that accommodated the bay windows below. A few were even in need of massive amounts of repair.

“Is this my life?” she wondered aloud. Each day passed much the same, yet here was another layer right under her nose. This had to end. From now on any chance she had to break out of her routine, she would take. Would she turn right like she had everyday? “No thanks, from now on I'm turning left!”

Soon her stomach was questioning the brilliant decision to keep going. Wren was famished and so far all she had seen were more houses. It seemed she was venturing further in to the residential district. With a sigh, she resolved to change direction at the end of the block. A right turn at the end of the block would probably bring her back in to the city or she could always just turn back the way she came. Nearing the intersection, mentally preparing herself for disappointment, the darkness began to fade. Something was lighting up the area but she couldn't see what it was. Maybe it was some security obsessed home owner's attempt to thwart would be robbers. Perhaps, it was part of an ongoing argument between homeowners, those could be quite amusing.

Like a moth to a flame she found herself speeding up to investigate the source of light. “Please let this be food!” Wren begged the empty night air. Abruptly the buildings ended and she broke in to a jog upon seeing what had lured her in on the same side of the street. Neon had never held so much appeal before. It was like her own metallic piece of heaven had sprung up from nothing. Quite fittingly the sign simply said “DINER”. Momentary thoughts of health codes and sanitation sifted through her mind as she saw the aging exterior, but was she ever hungry. All rational thought disappeared while inhaling the aromas that permeated the air. Anything that smelled that glorious couldn't be bad.

There were some cars in the parking lot but there didn't seem to be a wait at this time of night. She should be well past the usual dinner rush as it was now closing in on nine o'clock. What would her friends say if they saw her now? They would probably tease her about staying up past her bed time, getting dressed up for (gasp) a diner, and even chastise her for being alone in the dark. Well forget them, Wren thought, this night is about me changing.

**********************************

A very friendly, and quite perky, young girl found her a booth immediately. The diner was bustling with activity but there were plenty of seats remaining. It seemed that there was a large group of people seated behind her in what must be a banquet room, she had not noticed when she sat but could hear them as she checked her phone for any messages. Perusing the menu made the dragon in her stomach roar to life. Never had Wren seen such variety at a typical diner before. Of course the classics were there, like meatloaf and hot sandwiches, but there was much more. It seem that every possible culture was represented on the same page. Gyros, sushi, tandoori with naan, Guinness stew, jambalaya, saltimbocca, and akara sat side by side. This was going to be yet another adventure on her already fascinating night.

The surroundings seems anachronistic when compared to the menu. Waitresses were wearing poodle skirts and the décor had obviously been restored to its original layout. There was a bar complete with red seated stools and a kick plate, black and white checked tiles, and even a functioning jukebox complete with table top units. Someone obviously cared very much to put the work in to this place.

Feeling like a rebel she ordered a bacon cheeseburger and fries with gravy. It may cost some time on the elliptical but what the hell, it was only one night. Waiting for food her mind began to drift. She wondered about the owner and even the cook that was making her food. Was he nice or surly? For some reason she had always found intimacy in others cooking for her, even strangers. They were, hopefully, taking care to prepare a satisfying meal to sustain her. Nobody had ever really cared enough in her younger life to do that for her. She had always prepared her meals, it was either that or go hungry. Now any chance she got, even if paying for it, she let other people cook for her.

Soon Tammy, her waitress, arrived with her meal. It was set in front of her with a metal cover and revealed with a grand production. Wren laughed and clapped at the silliness and drooled at the sight of dinner. Lunch today had been a yogurt with some almonds and that was over nine hours ago.

Once the waitress was out of sight and no one was looking in her direction, she proceeded with her happy dance. This was only reserved for times, when sure to be alone, that she was most excited. Usually it was induced by new books or movies but, in cases like this, food. Biting in to her gigantic, dripping burger she audibly groaned and looked up to see a pair of curious gray eyes watching her as they passed.

Dropping her head immediately, with cheeks burning, she was mortified. If he hadn't seen the dance, oh please don't let him have seen that, he surely heard her. Idiot, she scolded, you look like a complete nut job. To top it off she didn't even get a good look at her unwitting spectator to avoid him later. Her glance was fast enough to register that he was male before she looked back down at her traitorous food.

***********************************************

The rest of her meal was eaten in a more subdued fashion as she mentally monitored her actions. She reminded herself that it was silly mistakes that could bring her new life crashing down around her. This time it was only a slip of character, nothing really, but what if next time she forgot who she was supposed to be? That would be disastrous. It had been hard work but she had built a life for herself and left everything behind. There was no way she would let that interfere with what she had now.

Eventually her humiliation subsided and Wren enjoyed just watching the activity. The waitresses were all super friendly and seemed to glide around the diner. The party behind her was loud but merry. Putting in a few song requests, all oldies, Wren contemplated her next move. It was now very dark and she needed to be getting home, even though tomorrow held nothing other than catching up on the DVR and cleaning. Exercise had been taken care of on her walks tonight, so hopefully another trip to the park could happen with a book. Dessert, along with the bill, was delivered while she was looking at the picture Jen sent her.

On the table sat a giant malted chocolate milk shake with extra in a metal canister on the side. She took time to wonder over which to drink from first, as a child it was always fun to save the tin for last. Her mother always said it felt just a little bit naughty, like a dessert for the dessert. Those were the good times, long before her world was flipped on end. Her mom smelled like lemons and soap, she could still hear her voice singing in her sleep. As she reminisced, something she rarely did, a very loud bang sounded behind her. Lost in other unpleasant memories Wren jumped, knocking the milkshake in her lap, and then dove under the table in utter fear.

Cowering under the table, she wondered why no one else was panicking. There seemed to be a brief pause in the din of the patrons but it quickly was followed by loud laughter. No one screamed or rushed about anywhere. A few waitresses feet passed by unhurried in both directions as well as a couple presumably male shoes. The adrenaline rush waned, leaving another kind of fear in its wake. Did anybody see what she had done? Do they know she is under the table? How would she recover from this now? The only viable option was staying under the table, covered in her milkshake, with a strange throbbing in her leg. Oh great, she thought looking down to discover a cut on her right knee, this dinner just gets better and better. Since arriving here she had turned eating into a strange pornographic dance, obviously extremely overreacted to something, and was now injured.

A pair of strange brown leather booted feet passed by her table but, unlike the others, this pair took a few steps back and stopped directly in front of her. OH NO, please don't, just keep going, she silently begged. Time slowed down as the feet gave way to strangely dressed gray shins, a really long blue shirted torso, and slowly a bearded face. Of course, given her fantastic luck tonight, the face was the owner of a pair of cloudy gray eyes that she recognized instantly. Without saying a word he quickly scanned her, eyes widening as they reached her leg and again at her head. Simply nodding he rose from his position and walked away. Strange she thought, he didn't question her sanity or demand her exit. Did he work here or was he going to get the manager? Maybe they were going to call the police to get the obviously deranged stranger out of their establishment. At least she had already left her money on the table, so they couldn't accuse her of stealing.

Then the boots reappeared and just stayed there unmoving. Was he cleaning? It sounded like someone was clearing her dishes but she couldn't be sure. From this position she couldn't see much of anything. Many years of practice had instantaneously come back and like countless times before had found the furthest, darkest pocket possible. Through the space around this new friend “Boots”, for lack of a real name, people slowly trickled toward the door. An interesting mix of sneakers, boots, and leather laced shoes passing by, accompanied by long sweeping hems, loose pants, and even some leggings on what appeared to be male legs. They must be actors dining after a show or something, as these were definitely not modern outfits. Maybe she could convince them to leave her here forever and she could do a study on foot fashion if they would let her. Several goodbyes were exchanged as patrons passed by and soon Boots left as well.

Releasing a huge sigh of relief, she started to crawl out but was instantly plunged into darkness. Now what? Was she locked in here alone or was she locked in here with a stranger? Either prospect had her terrified enough to bolt out from under the table and dash toward the exit, straight in to a large solid chest. “Oh shit” she jumped away, frantically searching for another way out. Toward the back of the diner, behind the now clean booth, was a large, red EXIT sign. Never had something so ordinary seemed so miraculous. A million scenarios played through her mind, all with horrific news reports at their ends. Her escape was short lived when large arms grabbed her from behind as she heard laughter. “Stop. I'm trying to help you” he said but she didn't hear it over her pounding heart. Curling up in to the smallest ball possible she waited for the inevitable. Instead he set her down and walked away. Without looking behind her, and thankful it was so dark, she found the closest booth possible and regained the smallest corner.

Suddenly, and painfully, the lights came back on followed by a deep baritone voice. “Where are you now?” This was all too much to deal with, he sounded angry and close. A voice from her past echoed through her head, “If only you had stayed home like a good girl, it's all your fault.”

“I know you are in here somewhere and I would really like to go home now.” It was Boots again. “Could you please come out and make this easy?”

He was definitely going to murder her and worse would probably rape her too. If she died tonight she would at least leave scars but searching for something to defend herself proved futile. Looking up she saw the boots again while all possible escape scenarios ran through her head. If she held her breath maybe he would keep moving and she could sneak out. Instead the previous progression of body parts ensued, as he lowered himself to look under the table. She was cornered with no where to go. Yet again locking eyes with his now steel grays, she did the only thing left, she started to sob. Just before she buried her head in her arms he flinched.

Then nothing. No sound, no movement, nothing for a long time. Her sobs slowed to whimpers as she became curious, if he wanted to grab her he would have already. What was he doing? Looking up she saw that he was gone but in his place was a folded piece of paper. Peaking out there was nothing, no sign of movement at all. As she began to calm down her back started to ache and a migraine slowly closed in from her multiple frenzied states over the night. Grabbing the paper she emerged and took a seat in the booth. Surely if he wanted to hurt her he would have done so by now.

“The door is unlocked. I will be in the office behind the kitchen. You are injured. I have a first aid kit. - M -”

After rereading the note more times than was necessary, she slowly stood. Wren was free to leave and probably should just get out of there. It would be a long time before she ventured out alone again and would definitely never come back to this diner. He probably thought she had escaped from some institution and given her behavior she was pretty sure that’s where she belonged.

This night had started so wonderfully and then she had to go ruin it so spectacularly. But, she was injured and covered in milkshake. At the very least she needed to find a bathroom and preferably the aforementioned first aid kit. Curiosity quickly won out, like it usually did. It may be the stupidest thing she had done all night, but she had too many questions.

***********************************************

Gathering up all remaining energy, she slowly turned left and made her way around the bar to the kitchen doors. Through the window she could see an office at the back with its light on. Without realizing it she had already pushed through the double doors and was halfway to the office. On her right she saw a decent sized butcher knife on the work top. Brief thoughts of grabbing it for protection ran through her slowly dulling consciousness, man was this going to be a killer migraine. She decided that she was safer without sharp objects in her hands, especially when she wasn't feeling well.

From this angle she could see the back of a head with dark hair sticking up over a computer chair. With coordination and precision she didn't know she possessed, she silently moved to the door frame and leaned for support. Should she say something? “Hi, I'm a freak. Sorry for trashing your booth.” Somehow that didn't sound right. Maybe she could just knock on the door. Luckily her decision was made for her as he swiveled in his chair. Another awkward staring contest ensued with no words spoken. Breaking eye contact he motioned for her to sit in a chair next to the door as he reached for something behind him.

Obliging him, slowly she lowered herself down and in doing so noticed his strange outfit. Earlier, in her panic she had only gotten a brief glimpse of this man in general. He was wearing brown leather boots that came just above his ankles, brown wide legged pants that were oddly wrapped with gray fabric, and a blue tunic that was belted at the waist. He seemed to be fairly fit but she really couldn't tell with the baggy clothing, the long brown hair was neatly pulled back in to a braid that ended just past his shoulders. The throbbing in her head continued to grow. Fixing her attention in one place, which happened to be him, wasn't as nauseating as looking around. Odd, she had seen others leaving with strange clothing (at least on their bottom halves) while she hid as well.

Her not so subtle staring was interrupted after a while, she wasn't sure how long, by a stifled laugh. Mentally she kicked herself, there was no way he hadn't noticed. This was only confirmed as she looked up to see a smirk spreading across his bronzed lightly bearded face. He had such a warm smile, she couldn't help smiling back, and soon they were both laughing. Wondering why he was laughing only led her to laugh longer and harder, bringing tears to her eyes. Her deep belly laughs were joined by his until, nearly breathless, they both composed themselves.

Silence fell over them as she stared at her knotted hands in her lap. The pounding in her head was starting to make the room spin slowly.

“Um.... Hi?” Awkwardly she broke the silence and was immediately embarrassed. What do you say in this situation? Why wasn't he saying anything? She looked up expectantly, not knowing what to expect, and found him slowly watching her. His gaze again traveled from her feet up the entire length of her body and rested just slightly above her eyes, at the top of her head. Could he tell she had a migraine? He was staring exactly where her head was pulsing.

“Are you ok?” he quietly asked, as if not to spook her.

“Yeah. Listen, I'm really not crazy. I swear. Whatever that loud noise was, spooked me.” She was rambling but just couldn't stop. “I have no idea how I even got under the table and then the lights went out and I’m so sorry…”

“No, no stop.” Oh thank the stars, he interrupted. “That's not what I meant. Are you ok? You hurt yourself. You are covered in blood.”

Looking down at her dress she was confused. She had some blood on her dress and hands from the cut on her knee, but covered? Hardly. Maybe he was a hypochondriac or something, he looked so concerned that she must be missing something. It took some effort but she bent over to look at her leg. “Well I wouldn't say covered. It really just looks like I scraped my leg, not really a big deal. I'm fine. ” Sitting up took much more effort. Why did her head feel so heavy? “Sorry, but my head is killing me. I am getting the mother of all migraines.” she whispered as she rested her head in her hands. Hopefully the spinning would stop soon as her dinner was threatening to make an appearance.

“So what you're saying is you're fine?” he asked skeptically. “Nothing but a small cut on your leg and a headache?”

Why was he being so challenging? He was just annoying her at this point. “Listen” she snapped “I'm sorry for being such a freak earlier. I really appreciate you not calling the cops or y'know murdering me, but I need to go home. Just call me a taxi and I can clean up my leg when I get to my apartment.”

“Murdering you?” he sounded shocked “When was I going to murder you?”

“Well, you know, the whole lock the doors and turn off the lights bit. What was I supposed to think?” she replied. Lifting her head to look at him she felt tired and he looked confused. “I should just go. I'm sorry I ruined your night and your business. Let me know if any repairs are necessary, I would be happy to reimburse you.” Her usual confidence reappeared, although her voice sounded strangely weak. “If you could just get my purse for me...” She stood to compose herself but soon the room was rushing past her. As the world darkened she was vaguely aware of solid arms around her and someone muttering something about stubborn females.

Waking up Wren wondered about the strange dream. It had been so realistic, even now her leg and head hurt as they had in the fantasy world. Maybe she had taken a sleeping pill and couldn't remember, it was one of the side effects. But that man, where had she dreamed him up, she was pretty sure she had never met anyone like him before. Opening her eyes she started to panic. She was in an unfamiliar blue living room and couldn't remember how she got there.

The sudden movement when attempting to stand made the room spin so violently that vomit was imminent. Laying back down until the room stopped revolving, she gingerly propped herself up on her arms. The room was sparse but well maintained. There were all sorts of decorations from different cultures and eras. In the nearest corner there seemed to be a replica samurai set of armor and an Asian tapestry. On another wall resided a series of medieval looking prints with unicorns that she instantly recognized. Someone had carefully covered her with a large red knit blanket and, thankfully, she was in the same outfit from last night. Thankfully, for her throbbing head, the room was still mostly dark except for a small lamp on an end table. Her leg had been bandaged and reaching up she felt one on her head too. When had she hurt her head? That would certainly explain her current fog.

Suddenly from the other room she heard, before seeing, a flurry of movement and a low rumble. Before there was even time to react a large brown barking mass came barreling through the room headed directly for her. “Oh no! Good doggie.” Is that a dog? It looked more like a small brown bear, ready to eat her. Her options were rather limited given her current state but the thought of leaping over the back of the tan couch seemed like a really good idea. She settled for climbing in to the corner furthest from this bear dog thing and braced herself for impact.

As it reached the coffee table in front of her she heard more rumbling somewhere close. Was that laughter? “Ursa, relax.” A voice boomed from beside her and the dog beast stopped instantly. Wide eyed she turned to see the star of her waking dream (or was it a nightmare?) laying in a recliner, the only evidence he was awake was his laughter. “Good morning.”

“Um... good morning?” she replied.

Sitting up he looked at her. “Was that a question?” he laughed “How are you feeling now?”

“I'm feeling better. Still a bit fuzzy but not too bad. What happened?” she needed to stop rambling.

“That's funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” he stared at her expectantly.

Oh man, she thought, he deserved some version of the truth, how much was the issue though. Maybe she could just keep talking and eventually he would forget. “No I didn't mean that, I meant how did I get here?” she stuttered.

“I know what you meant and I know that you're avoiding my question” he sighed. “After you accused me of attempted murder, you stood up and then promptly fainted.”

“Sorry” she looked down at her hands that had begun to twist.

“Don't be, it made for the most interesting night I have had in a while” he shrugged. “I debated calling an ambulance.”

She hadn't even thought of that of that horrible possibility. Jen was her emergency contact and would never let her live this down. She could hear it now “Remember that time our little bird went for a walk and ended up fainting in a strangers arms?” Looking in to his curious gray eyes she wondered what he was thinking. Why was he not mad at her? “Thank you for not doing that. You have no idea what that means to me.”

He paused staring at her again and then smirked. “Well, I didn't think it would look too good being at the restaurant so late. In the dark. With a woman that I don't know, bleeding all over the place who just happened to be unconscious.”

At that she finally started to laugh at the absurdity. “Yeah, I guess that would look rather bad, huh. So what happened after that?”

“Well, you're still avoiding my question…” Raising his eyebrows at her she felt herself blushing and gave a weak smile. “ After I decided not to call an ambulance, mostly because you were still breathing, I cleaned you up. You have a pretty nasty gash on your forehead, for the record.”

“Oh...” So that explains the fainting and headache she thought gingerly probing the bandage. Looking up she caught his gaze, this man was definitely handsome and every time he looked at her she felt very insecure.

“Yeah, oh.” He sounded upset. “After that I brought you back here to my apartment. I looked rather bizarre carrying you out of the back door and down the street. Luckily it was a short walk and people just assumed you were drunk.”

“People saw you carrying me over your shoulder?” she gasped.

“Well not too many. There were a few drunk people and then the doorman to the building. He's seen worse, trust me.” He winked and she felt dizzy. “After that I just left you on the couch and checked on you every now and then. If you hadn't woken up soon I was going to take you to the hospital anyway.”

“Really? I couldn't have been out that long, it's still dark out.” She was puzzled as to why he would have been so concerned.

“Try dark out again” he huffed. “Do you think you could maybe explain what actually happened by the way?”

“What do you mean again?” Crap she really couldn't get out of this.

“Again as in to happen once more. The sun has risen and set...again...all while your pretty little head remained in the same spot comatose. It is now Saturday night, in case the definition still wasn't enough.” He really sounded annoyed but did he just call her pretty?

“Oh my god! Where is my phone?” There were bound to be missed messages from her friends. If nothing else Jen would have checked in to see if she had any more dirt. “Please. I will explain everything but I need my phone first.” she begged.

“Everything, huh?” He grinned.

“Yes, everything. Whatever you want to know.” She was frantic.

Lifting her purse of the table, he handed it to her. “You are very popular it has been ringing and chiming all day.”

That's not good, knowing her friends they would have the police out searching for her. Checking her messages though, it wasn't as bad as she thought. There were a few missed calls from her friends and a few calls from work. Most of her text messages were from Jen who apparently took her silence to mean that she had found a hot guy and went home with him. She wasn't completely off base, although the type of activity she was hoping for was dead wrong. Strange though that the doorman hadn't called. Usually he checked in if she wasn't back on time, it was actually the only reason she was comfortable living alone.

On a sigh, she relaxed back in to the couch closing her eyes. “Do you think I could either eat or shower before I explain?” When she didn't receive an answer she opened her eyes to find him intensely staring at her. A battle seemed to be raging across his features. Curiosity was surging through her but she resisted probing him. Wren had always been naturally interested in what made people tick and this man had all of her attention.

“Both requests are reasonable but I don't know if I have anything that would fit you” he slowly responded. Was he checking her out? “I don't really have too much to eat here but I could pull something together. You don't mind soup do you?”

“Well I could just put this outfit back on...” Looking down she saw the blood from her injuries. “Or if you have just a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants I could make do. Anything to freshen up and wash yesterday off.” She smiled at his uncertainty. “Also, as far as food goes I'm game for anything.” The thought of this man cooking for her had butterflies careening around her ribcage.

“OK sounds like a plan then. Bathroom is down the hall on the left and I will find some clothes while you shower.” He sounded eager and smirked. “I'll walk with you just to make sure you get there.”

Standing she huffed but shrugged, she really couldn't argue with him on that point. So far she had not demonstrated that she was surefooted and graceful. Certainly he had cause to be concerned about her risk to herself, especially after fainting on him. As they walked he took his time and kept an eye on her movements. They passed a decent sized dark brown eat in kitchen and down a tan hallway where he stopped outside of what she presumed was the bathroom. The apartment seemed to be adequate but had one other room which could only be the bedroom. No wedding ring so it definitely was a bachelor pad, or at least she hoped so. As she considered why she was so concerned about his availability, he turned and retrieved two towels, a washcloth, and a bathrobe from a closet just inside the bathroom. Their hands brushed briefly as he handed them to her and she jumped at the contact.

"Well this is it. There's body wash and shampoo in the shower, pretty generic so you won't smell like a man. New toothbrushes are in the drawer under the sink. Just yell if you need anything else.” With that he turned back down the hall and disappeared out of her sight.

********************************************

Stepping in to the bathroom she felt at ease. The walls were painted a deep red and complemented dark wood cabinets with a black marble counter. Although the decorations were sparse it had a comfortable feeling, just like a bathroom should have. Curiosity won and soon every cabinet and drawer had been opened. Pulling back the shower curtain she had to contain her excitement and resist jumping up and down. Inside was the largest and deepest claw foot tub she had ever seen next to a glass doored shower stall. All thoughts of a shower were soon forgotten while the water running for a bath.

Turning back around to the mirror that, which had been intentionally avoided, she was appalled by her appearance. His early comment about her “pretty” head definitely couldn't actually be how he thought of her, unless he was partially blind. No wonder he had been so concerned last night. Her usually challenging, thick auburn hair had turned into nest fit for some strange mythical creature. It was matted, ratty, and sticking out in every direction possible. This was definitely going to take a lot of conditioner, if he had it. Her skin, although usually pale, was almost gray and her green eyes were rimmed with red. Holy hell, she looked bad. Reaching up to remove the bandage she gasped seeing the damage. An angry cut, at least and inch and half, spanned from just above her right eyebrow back in to her hairline. No amount of make up was going to cover that and there would definitely be a scar. Removing the bandage from her leg, however, was not as traumatic. The small little cut on her knee, where she remembered, was nothing compared to her head.

Quickly she found a new toothbrush and cleared the swamp monster residing in her mouth. Thankfully he had not been close enough to her while she was talking or he may have been the one passing out from the stench of her breath. Finding a hairbrush in her purse, attempts were made to get some of the tangles out of her unruly mane but quickly gave up. She might as well wash it and hope it miraculously became easier to manage, his long hair gave her hope at finding conditioner. Undressing she realized that her dress was beyond saving, the entire front was splattered with blood except where the sweater had been but oddly her skin was mostly clean. Had he cleaned her up or was it just luck that her sweater, which was currently missing, had absorbed most of the blood? Lowering herself in to the bath she was grateful she had not decided to shower. Her head, although better, was still swimming and passing out in the shower to be found naked by this man did not sound like a good idea.

**************************************************

What was his name? The note simply gave a letter, M, and they had never gotten to the point of introductions. She scolded herself for being so rude, even today she had instantly started questioning him rather than find out who this man was. After everything he had done for her she no longer feared what he would do to her. Instead she now found herself curious about him. Why was he dressed so strangely last night? Was he single? Who had decorated his living room with such interesting art? Did he own the diner or just work there? Did he have a girlfriend? Who was he? Could he cook? Was he gay? Please don't let him be. Why did she care? Her overactive mind was interrupted by a knock.

“You OK in there?” he asked through the door. “I left you some clothes by the door, hopefully they fit.”

“Yeah I'm fine, I'll be right out.” Looking down to Wren discovered she’d been in the bath so long her fingers were pruned. Quickly, as the water was significantly cooler, her hair was washed and conditioned (score), as well as the the rest of her body cleaned. True to his word the shampoos were rather mildly scented and the body wash was unscented completely. For some reason though she was disappointed not to smell manly, no foreign scent lingering around her. Oh well, its not like she'd see him again anyway, better that she not have that memory.

Getting out of the large bath the mirror reflected someone refreshed again, yet she felt weary down to her bones. Quickly the clothing from the hallway was retrieved and set on the counter. Surprisingly, the clothes were not at all what she expected. It had made sense that he would bring her a pair of sweatpants and a large t-shirt, yet she was now staring at a pair of black yoga pants and a pink short sleeved top. Definitely not her usual style but beggars can’t be choosers and it was better than blood stained clothes. There were absolutely no signs of a woman in this apartment but these clothes had come from somewhere, one more mystery to add to her growing list.

Keeping her back to the mirror she dried off and donned her mostly new outfit (she had to reuse her only underwear rather than go commando). Staring at her mirror she self consciously pinched and poked at herself. This shirt was much tighter than she normally wore and accented her figure rather than hide it as she preferred. By no means was she obese, but she wasn’t a twig either. Her body was soft and curvy as she generally detested working out, except for the occasional elliptical. However, this always led her to criticize her lack of exercise and her need to lose weight when she examined her body. Oh well, guess it’s better than being naked. Luckily she always had some make up in her purse and would have to make do with her mascara and lip gloss. She combed her long red hair, untangling it as best as possible, while she debated how much information to share with him. What was she going to tell him? He certainly wasn’t getting her whole story but he had earned more than most people. This was probably the last time they would see each other and some secrets need to be kept no matter what. Gathering her belongings she set the dress to soak in the sink, hopefully it would take out the stain, and made her way in to the hall.

10.

Something smelled delicious, this definitely wasn’t soup from a can like she normally made. Although she couldn’t pick out all of the scents she definitely smelled thyme, onions, and pepper. Was that bread baking? Walking back toward the kitchen the scents grew stronger and she heard unfamiliar music. Hunger seemed to have been reactivated by the savory scent assaulting her senses. More framed art resided here as well, strange black scrolled work. The designs intrigued her as she added another question to her growing list. The kitchen opened to the rest of the apartment and the giant dog was sleeping on a bed in the corner. Doing her best to avoid any unwanted attention she tiptoed around and found herself a stool at the large marble island, already set for a meal along with a very large glass of water.

Mr. M Boots, she still didn’t know his name, was wearing a pair of red flannel pajama bottoms, a white form fitting top, and a denim apron. He stood at the stove with his back to her stirring something. As far as she could tell he didn’t know she was out yet and Wren couldn’t be more thankful. This man had a flawless physique, his back muscles rippled as he moved. What she wouldn’t give to run her hands down his back side. The fact that he was cooking just for her and looking delicious just intensified the earlier butterflies. Quickly, and before she got caught staring again, she took a large gulp of water and shook her head. Man she really needed to pull herself together, she was acting like Jen. Although if Jen were in her place this man’s space would have already been violated along with some rather inappropriate touching.

Sitting there waiting she got lost in the music playing. A guitar and a soothing voice were singing about a wounded universe. Music always seemed to effect her. It calmed her when she was upset, pumped her up when she needed it, and was even how she got her nickname. Closing her eyes she listened and tried to process all that had happened over the last few days. Once Monday came she would be placing a call to her old therapist. As the track changed she found herself quietly singing along to an updated version of a familiar tune, The Boxer. The song about wandering through an unfamiliar city had always resonated with her, this version, with a banjo, was interesting but triggered unwanted memories.

*********************************************

Wren could remember vividly the day her life changed, although she preferred not to. It was much like any other day of her childhood. Her mom had fixed her hair in to two braids that morning in hopes that she would keep some dirt out of it, even though it never worked, and she had promptly crowned it with a crown of daisies. She completed her chores fast, which today was hanging the laundry on the line to dry. After that her day was spent exploring their land and discovering relics from its past as a farm. It was a bright, sunny day and she could smell the apple pie her mother had finished baking for her twelfth birthday. Daddy had gone for his monthly trip in to town to handle his “business associates”, whatever that meant. Finally, tiring of the usual adventures, she sat on her tire swing and sang. She disappeared in to her imaginary world and sang songs about knights hunting dragons and the strong maidens who saved the knights from harm. In her fantasy land the knights were always bumbling and clumsy and there were never any helpless princesses. She sang about pet unicorns, moonlit dances, and fairy rings. Her voice often was compared to a bell or a bird by adults, but she just thought that was weird. Car tires crunched on the gravel drive out front and soon she heard loud shouting from inside. This was nothing new, when Daddy came home from town he often smelled weird and was mad. So, like always, she just sang louder so that she couldn’t hear the shouting. The back door slammed but she just kept spinning and singing. Abruptly her daydream was interrupted when she was lifted in a bear hug. ”Daddy stop!” she shrieked at the tightness of the grip. Turning to swat him she stared in to an unfamiliar face. She tried to scream but found herself suddenly gagged, voiceless, and afraid. Over his shoulder she saw her unconscious mother being dragged out the back door by two men. That was the last thing she saw before the world suddenly went black. Try as she might, she quickly gave up struggling. The man holding her had her immobilized and she soon felt another pair of hands grasping her legs.

“Good girl. Just do what they tell you.” whispered a strangely familiar voice.

She was unceremoniously shoved in to the back of a vehicle, hearing the doors slam shut behind her. Desperately she ripped at the blind fold, she had always been afraid of the dark. The engine roared and lurched forward, jostling her around until she slammed in to the opposite wall with her knee. Righting herself she began frantically clawing around, searching for a way out of this nightmare.

“Damn it, watch out. If she’s hurt we are all dead.”

Suddenly her hands were being tied together behind her. She tried kicking, attempting to make contact with anyone or anything nearby. Suddenly she felt a pinch in her arm and everything started to fade away. In this blissfully numb fog she thought she heard someone say “Sorry…”

***

Looking up she found her host standing at the stove studying her. Had she disturbed him with her singing? “Sorry, was I off key?”

“No, not at all.” He seemed strangely distant and turned back to the food.

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me. I really do appreciate it after my circus act.” Wren jumped right in, no use avoiding the topic.

“Don’t mention it” he replied, very clipped.

“You have a very nice apartment here. I like your artwork” added Wren, hoping to get him to open up.

Turning he brought two bowls to the island and silently placed one before her. Quickly a loaf of bread from the oven and butter was added to the spread before them. “Eat” was his only command.

Although taken aback by his rather sudden, sharp tone, she was famished and the food looked delicious. Large pieces of chicken and root vegetables floated in a dark broth. Forgetting all modesty she dove right in, making quick work of the entire bowl. Without a word her empty bowl disappeared from in front of her and was quickly replaced full with another large slice of bread next to it. Wren nodded her thanks at him while they ate in silence. The bread was crusty, slightly tangy, and soon gone like her second bowl of stew. As her bowl was removed again she quickly put her hand out to stop him and ended up with a hand full of bicep. After what felt like hours staring at her hand on him she gazed up to find him doing the exact thing. Quickly she released him, her cheeks burning again.

“Sorry about that” she looked down at her hands. “I can’t possibly eat any more, everything was so delicious. Thank you.”

He simply cleared both of their plates and returned to his spot without a word. Was he mad at her? What had she done now? She certainly hadn’t insulted his cooking or home. A quick glance at him confused her even more as she found him frowning at her.

“Um… did I do something to upset you?” she asked.

“No, why do you ask?” he responded with a strained voice.

“Well lets see, short answers, the silent treatment, and now you look like I kicked your dog. You certainly aren’t happy.” She felt bad being rude but couldn’t bear the silence.

“Did you kick my dog?” he asked, shocked.

“What? No, of course not. It’s just a phrase. Damn it, I can’t even get that right!”

Reaching across he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I know, that was my lame attempt at a joke.”

“Oh, well now I’m even more embarrassed. Sorry about that.” Wren mumbled, silently wishing she could just disappear.

“That does make me angry though.” He frowned.

Looking at him she was confused. “What that I am embarrassed? You probably shouldn’t spend much time with me then because it happens a lot. Sorry.”

“No THAT! The apologizing! Why are you constantly apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong.” He growled.

“Old habit I guess, sor.. er, I don’t realize I’m doing it most of the time.” She shrugged.

“Well try. You just apologized for eating my dinner, touching me, and singing. None of which were unpleasant.”

“So…” Did he just say he like her touching him? “Can I ask you question?”

“I thought I would get to be the questioner?” he smirked.

“Yeah you will, I just have a simple question.”

“And that is..”, he looked eager.

“Well I was wondering what your name was. I mean I could just call you Mr. Boots but I’m pretty sure that’s not your name.” She couldn’t hold back the wink that followed.

“What? Where did you get Mr. Boots from?” he laughed.

“Well that’s the first thing I saw of you, so…” she grinned back, his lighter mood energizing her.

“Ha, yeah. You can call me Max.” he reached out his hand “And you would be?”

“Uh…” she hadn’t thought about what name she would give him. “Well…”

“You do remember your name, don’t you? I didn’t think you hit your head that hard. Maybe you should go see a doctor after all.”

“No, no. It’s just that’s actually a tricky question. I’m…you can call me Wren.” Generally she used her legal name, Erin, with strangers. Wren was what her friends knew her by and had followed her since childhood.

“So, Wren,” he grinned at her, “it’s my turn.”

“Yeah, I promised and I don’t break my promises.” She sighed, “What do you want to know?”

“Hmm…” he tented his hands under his chin and examined her silently. She willed herself to stay still and not fidget. Yet something in his gaze made her comfortable and awkward at the same time.

Finally, with a slow grin, he broke the silence. “How was your burger?”

“Huh?” What an odd question she thought.

“Your burger, I believe a bacon cheeseburger to be exact. Was it to your liking?” How did he know her exact order?

As realization dawned, she wanted to hide under a blanket. “It was good.”

“Just good?” his voice seemed to lower an octave. Was he flirting with her?

“Yeah it was the best I’ve had in a while.” OH. MY. GOD.

11.

The alarm clock sounded brutally early, especially after the emotional drain of the last few days. Wren hit the alarm for the fifth time before glancing at the clock. 9:15, plenty of time before she needed to get up. Rolling over she snuggled back in to the mountain of covers. A few short minutes later Wren rolled over to check the wretched time piece once again. Flashing loudly (as loudly as one can flash) back at her was proof that today was already starting off badly, 10:45.

“No...” she mumbled as she reached for her phone. Surely there was something wrong with her clock. “NO! Damn it, not again!” Wren yelled, earning an angry scowl from Hame, who had been nestled at her feet.

Bolting out of bed clothes started flying as she simultaneously undressed. There were exactly 15 minutes to get dressed and get to Georgie's for brunch (which was a 15 minute trip alone). Luckily she showered, again, before she went to bed but that only saved a few minutes. Finally she found an outfit that matched and yanked it on quickly. Georgie's tended to have a conservative crowd and the clothing swayed between stuffy and matronly. Today's lucky winner, by virtue of being closest to the bed, was a rather boring brown pant suit. Wren actually hated brown but today it was her new best friend. Ever the multitasker she managed to brush her teeth sitting on the toilet while trying to figure out her excuse today. She didn't really want to explain the whole diner/hot guy situation yet, if ever, to her friends. After quickly washing her face she twisted her hair into a french twist of sorts. Unfortunately her sleep dried curls were alive on her head but there just wasn't enough time to care. Grabbing her keys, purse, and shoes she flew toward the stairwell taking exactly two seconds to lock her door.

Reaching the bottom in record time she stopped briefly to put her heels on. Jim was already shaking his head at her usual Sunday rush. “When are you going to learn lass?” he chuckled.

Shrugging she sprinted through the lobby while applying lip gloss. “Some day Jim, just not today.” she replied as she did every Sunday.

As she reached the sidewalk her world suddenly flipped axis and she slammed down on her back. Laying there, gasping for air, she waited for the sky to open up and rain on her, since that was her luck. Quickly she did her usual check, as this situation was unfortunately not uncommon. Everything moved and nothing hurt other than her ego.

However, much to her dismay, she discovered an even worse fate was possible as she heard familiar laughter. Closing her eyes she willed this to all be a dream but as she opened her eyes she saw Max gathering her purse and its contents with his usual smirk in place. Standing up she saw her attacker, a rather large puddle, had soaked her pants from her left knee down.

“I've heard of women falling for a man, but I don't think they meant it literally.” Max winked at her handing over her purse.

“Har har, you're hilarious.” Wren scowled. “ Thank you for your help.”

Turning back in to the lobby as fast as she dared, Wren reached for her phone to check the time. It was now 11:10am and she had two missed calls, undoubtedly from Liza who despised lateness. Quickly she sent a text apologizing and promising an explanation. As she reached the stairwell, again, she was unaware of the man following after her or the crowd that had witnessed her humiliation.

***************************************

Cursing herself for living on the third floor she took the stairs two at a time, apparently she would be getting exercise today. Finally reaching the apartment she grabbed in her pocket for her keys, only to come up empty. When a cursory search of her purse proved fruitless she dumped its entire contents on her welcome mat. As she feared everything was there except her keys.

“Great, just fantastic!” she leaned against the door frame starting to cry, hearing an equally pathetic mewl from the other side of the door.

She had never missed a Sunday brunch in all the years since she has suggested it in college. This was her form of a family meal, now she would have to go back down the stairs, search for her keys, and make herself even later. Slowly she shoved her belongings back in the purse and made her way back to the stairs. There was no point rushing anymore, she would be lucky if she made it by noon. Beginning the descent toward her fate she heard feet racing toward her on the stairs. Pressing herself to the wall she hoped to avoid collision with whoever was nearing her. Quickly a form shot past and exited through the door behind her. Maybe someone else was having a bad day too, for some reason this thought comforted her. A few steps before the second floor landing the door behind her opened again.

“Hold on!” a voice bellowed from above her. Startled she turned to see Max heading down the stairs.

“What are you doing? Why are you following me?” she asked stunned as she continued her urgent descent.

“Would you stop so I can tell you?” he puffed.

Looking at him closer she noticed him clenching his side and struggling to catch his breath. “Fine you have one minute”, glancing at her phone again as a reminder of her predicament.

“Well after your graceful pirouette, you forgot your keys.” Was he serious?

“Yes, Max. I know this. That is where I’m headed right now.”

Starting back down the stairs she felt a hand on her arm. Whirling around to face him she lost her footing for he second time in fifteen minutes. Quickly his hands were around her waist and she was pulled delightfully close. Again his closeness left her at a loss for words so she stared. To her dismay, she was quickly placed on her feet and her personal space was restored. Running her hands through her now unleashed hair, she sighed. “Thanks again.”

Chuckling he just raised his eyebrows, “Falling for me again I see.” Winking he held out his hand toward her.

#walker #ENG170 #Chirico #Final Project

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