I pushed open the painted white wooden gate and walked up the now paved pathway to my grandmother's large, white Georgian-style home.

The house was just as I had remembered it to be like before I left Saranac for college six years ago. The shingles on the roof were black, the wooden fence that held the perimeter of the house with the slightly chipped white paint, the garden hedges on either side of the door, the shaky black railings on the stairs; all of it was the same. But there were differences, as well.

The shutters, which were previously red, were now a dark navy color. The pathway from the gate to the stairs was now paved, covered with black cement. Along the sides of the pathway were white stones that led up to the stairs. The grass was perfectly cut and manicured; there wasn't a weed in sight. I wondered if Grammy was the one who maintained the lawn. I figured someone else probably came around to take care of it. Grammy had never cared for gardening before.

I gingerly walked up the cement steps to the front door. I stood at the painted red wooden door for a few moments before finally getting the nerves to open it.

I stepped inside to a dark house. Feeling around for a light switch, my hand grazed the white painted surface of the wall. My hand came into contact with the switch and I switched it up, illuminating the house before me.

As light poured over the features of the inside of the house, I was hit with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia.

The interior of the house looked exactly the same as it did when I left it for Boston six years ago after my high school graduation. The faded soft creme colored couches were still there, set around the old peach colored Persian rug. The glass coffee table stood spotless as always at the center of the rug, an elaborate dry-flower arrangement set in the middle of it. The walls were still painted that medium beige color, giving the room an overall feeling of homeliness.

I dropped the key I held into the key bowl that was still set on the small table in the hallway, under the oval shaped mirror. I made my way to the opposite side of the room and entered the kitchen. I flipped the light switch on and revealed the kitchen, which looked like it had been slightly remodeled.

I remembered my grandmother telling me she was getting new appliances, exchanging the old gas burners for sleek electrical ones and the white kitchen appliances for contemporary stainless ones. The counter was also redone with a dark peach-brown granite countertop. I looked around at the kitchen, appraising my grandmother's sense in renovation.

I opened one of the light maple oak cabinet doors and pulled out a glass. Fishing around my purse and looking for some aspirin, I filled the glass up with water. I found the pills and popped two into my mouth, swigging back a gulp of water to bring them down. I downed the rest of the water and then my eye caught the small wine rack that was in the corner of the kitchen. It was partially stocked--as always. Grammy always loved her wine.

I brought my glass over to the rack and pulled out a bottle. Flittingly reading the label, I uncorked the bottle and poured myself a glass of the white wine. I took a sip and savored the sweet flavor of the liquor. Satisfied with my drink, I went upstairs to change out of my work clothes, which I had been in all day.

When I got upstairs, I paused outside the door of the room that had been mine, nerves suddenly taking over my exhausted mind. The room that lay behind that door held so many painful memories, memories that still haunted me to this day. Taking another sip of wine, I pushed the door open to reveal a completely untouched room.

The light oakwood furniture was still the exact same as it was six years ago. The same pale pink curtains were drawn over the windows, covering them just as I had left them so long ago. I wondered if my grandmother had ever come in to the room after I had left. Looking around at all of the pictures I had framed in high school and the years before, I guessed that she hadn't. Everything was the exact same as how I had left it; nothing was different, it seemed, except for me.

Sighing, I walked into the room. I put my purse down on the white wicker rocking chair that was next to the full-length vanity mirror in the corner. I took my blazer off and pulled out the pins that had been unsuccessful at keeping my hair in the tight bun I usually wore it in. As I ruffled out my hair, a realization fell over me: I had nothing with me.

All of my clothes and necessities were back in my lofty apartment in New York City. After I had received the phone call at work, I hadn't had time to go back to my apartment to pack some things before I came here. I had left in such a rush that I left everything at my home.

Frowning, I went to the closet and pulled open the door. I was mildly surprised that all of my clothes from high school were still hanging in the closet. I half expected my grandmother to have donated them to charity or something. I was never going to fit into any of those clothes anymore. I was taller and bustier and older now than I was in high school.

I stepped into my closet and bent down to open a drawer that was built into the wooden closet organizer. I rummaged through it and extracted a pair of pajama capris and a t-shirt. Deciding that the clothes would do for now, I walked out of the closet and into my bathroom.

Flicking the light switch up, I realized that the bathroom had also remained unchanged. All except that the toothbrush and toothpaste that used to be in there were gone. I shrugged and pulled off the dress that I had been wearing all day. I pulled off the rest of my clothes and then stepped into the shower. Turning it on, I closed my eyes and relaxed my muscles as the warm spray of water hit my skin.

After showering and ridding myself of the filth and exhaustion that had accumulated on me during the course of the day, I changed into the pajamas that I had pulled out. The capris--which used to hit at about mid-shin on me six years ago--were now sitting awkwardly above my knees. The t-shirt--which used to be baggy--now fit perfectly. I decided that it didn't really matter what I was wearing right now, since it was nighttime and no one would see me.

I now faced the bathroom mirror and sighed sadly as I looked at my tired face. I was now faced with another dilemma: I had no toothbrush or toothpaste. I pulled open one of the drawers in hopes that I would find a spare toothbrush or even a bottle of mouthwash, but I found nothing except for a few bobby pins that had been left behind.

I sighed and walked out of the bathroom. I wandered out into the hallway and towards the spare closet that was in the hallway. Grammy always kept extra things in that closet: spare towels, toothbrushes, soaps, shampoos, and more. I rummaged through the closet until I found what I was looking for: a spare toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. Smiling victoriously, I went back to my room and then brushed my teeth. I washed my face and then turned the bathroom light off, walking back into my room.

I went to the window and pulled open the curtains. I pulled up the blinds and then opened the window, relishing the cool fall breeze that swept into the room. I pushed the curtains back over the window and then climbed into the bed, pulling the covers around me. Settling into the pillows, I reached over and turned the lamp on the nightstand off, letting darkness fall all around me. I glanced out the window and could see the crescent moon peeking out from behind the curtains. I stared at the moon for quite a while before sleep finally fell over me. Then, I was left to my restless dreams, full of memories from the past that I had tried so hard to bury deep into the folds of my mind.

                                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~

 I woke up the next morning completely disoriented and confused.

Where was my contemporary and sleek bedroom loft in my apartment? Why was it so quiet? Where was all the city noise? Why was there so much pink around me?

Once my brain caught up with the rest of my senses, I remembered that I was back in Saranac, in my Grammy's house, in my old bed. The events of the previous day flooded my mind and I leaned back against the pillows, closing my eyes again. I opened them after a few moments, deciding that I needed to get up and go visit my grandmother.

I tore the sheets off of me and threw my legs over the side of the bed, hoisting myself up. Yawning and stretching, I made my way to the closet to find something to wear for the day. I was definitely going to have to go shopping and buy myself some outfits to wear while I was here; I couldn't walk around in my too-small high school clothes for too long.

I pulled out a ruffled white skirt that used to come up to my knees, but now came up to about mid-thigh and a simple black tank top that was just a bit too tight in the chest. Jumping into the bathroom, I washed my face and brushed my teeth before changing into my clothes. I stared at myself in the mirror and shook my head at how ridiculous I looked. The only skirts I owned were pencil skirts. Frills and ruffles only belonged on blouses in my opinion.

I walked back out into my room and grabbed my purse. I extracted the few make-up essentials I always kept in it and smirked. It was a good thing I always had back-up make-up with me; otherwise I would have had to walk out into the streets of the former town I lived in looking like a zombie come back from the dead.

I applied my foundation and mascara and lipgloss. Then I found an old denim jacket that still miraculously fit me and and put it on over the tank. I wrapped a light scarf around my neck to hide the fact that I was bursting through the tank I was wearing.

Satisfied with my appearance, I made my way downstairs. Relishing in the sunlight that poured into hte house from all the tall windows, I went into the kitchen to get some breakfast. I was starving. I hadn't had dinner the night before and I had barely eaten a lunch, too. I pulled open the refridgerator door and then frowned.

It was empty.

Aside from a half-full milk gallon, an almost empty bottle of orange juice, a few apples that looked bruised and old, and an empty carton of eggs, the fridge was barren. I sighed and opened up the freezer and was met with the same results as the fridge.

Groaning in frustration and shushing my protesting stomach, I grabbed my purse and my phone and headed out the door. I was just going to have to find some food.

One of the things that I liked about Saranac was that because it was such a small town, it was easy to navigate it without needing a car. Everything was within walking distance. It was nice because people were always milling about, chatting and enjoying the outdoors. It reminded me of New York City; I walked everywhere over there, too.

I turned the corner out of my neighborhood and started making my way towards the town square, where there were markets, shops, and restaurants. I walked to the corner of one of the streets and crossed to the other side, my sights set on only one place: Danny's Diner.

Danny's Diner was one of the most popular diners in town. It served the best food and it was in the perfect location, too. Everyone in the town would stop by Danny's diner at least once a day. It was a social hub, a place where everyone could gather and come together to enjoy each other's company and the delicious food that was served.

Danny's father Danny Sr. had started the business when he was 25 years old. Once Danny grew up, he took over the diner that his father had created, allowing Senior to retire peacefully. I remembered the summer I left there had been a huge celebration for Senior, as he was taking a few years off to travel the world with his wife.

I walked into the diner now, the familiar door chimes going off as I entered, pushing my sunglasses up to the top of my head. The diner was busy, it seemed, which was odd, since it was nearly 10 and most of the town should have been at work.

I recognized quite a few faces as I looked around and immediately, I regretted pulling my sunglasses up. I felt one particular set of eyes scrutinizing me and I forced myself not to look over at the person with those eyes. But even though I didn't look, the person recognized me.

"Oh my goodness, gracious! Is that Aria Hansen?!" Mrs. Knolls, the town gossiper, exclaimed loudly.

Due to Mrs. Knolls' loud, booming voice, the diner immediately fell into silence and nearly everyone turned around to look at me.

I felt awkward and uncomfortable as I felt every pair of eyes scrutinizing me. Whispers erupted all around, asking where I was, who I was (for those that were new to the town), and what I was doing back.

Mrs. Knolls walked up to me, extending her chubby arms to me.

"It's so good to see you, Aria! You've grown up so much over the past few years!" she exclaimed, pulling me to her body forcefully. I felt my face become buried in her ample breasts and I gasped in horror, trying to fight her off. I managed to pull away to see her beaming widely at me. I looked at her, my eyes wide, feeling incredibly uncomfortable.

"My goodness! Look how beautiful you've gotten!" she exclaimed, her voice sounding magnified at our proximity. I forced a smile onto my face.

"Thanks, Mrs. Knolls. It's good to see you," I said.

"Well, come sit down, dear!" she said, ushering me into a chair at her table. She forced me into the chair, her meaty hand clamped onto my shoulder. "Danny! Oh, Danny! Look who's here!" she called out towards the back counter where the door to the kitchen was. I winced at the volume of her voice and blushed when I realized that people were still staring at me.  Freaking, Knolls. Why was she so obnoxiously friendly?

The back door to the kitchen swung open and Danny walked out, wearing an apron that had flour on it and his old Yankees baseball cap on backwards. He was wiping his hands with a towel as he looked around. When he spotted me, he smiled brilliantly, his warm, chocolate brown eyes twinkling.

"Well, would you look at that! It's Aria Hansen!" he said, walking around the counter to come to the table I was sitting at. "How've you been, kid?" he asked, tossing the towel onto his shoulder.

"I've been all right," I mumbled, tucking my hair behind my ear and discreetly pointing at Mrs. Knolls while I did so. Danny caught the gesture and glanced at the looming woman above us.

"How about you come up to the counter and order?" he suggested.

"Why can't you take her order from here?" Mrs. Knolls asked.

"Because I can't read the menu from here," I said. She looked at me, confused. "I wear contacts and I forgot to put them in this morning," I lied. I had perfect 20/20 vision. I didn't need glasses or contacts.

"Well, Danny can just tell y-" she started, but I had already jumped up.

"No, that's all right. I think I'll just move to the counter," I said, cutting her off. Danny chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he led the way to the back of the diner. I sat myself down at one of the stools that was under the counter and sighed.

"Jesus," I mumbled.

"What a welcome, right?" Danny asked me.

"It always is with Mrs. Knolls," I replied. He laughed.

"Well, you weren't here when my parents came back. That was a welcome to see," he said.

"I'm sure it was," I mumbled. Danny chuckled lightly and pulled out a mug. He picked up the coffee and poured me a cup. The aroma instantly filled my nostrils and I felt a sense of nostalgia wash over me. Danny's coffee was the best I had ever had; it beat Starbucks by a landslide.

"So, what have you been up to, kid? I haven't seen you since you left for undergrad," Danny said. I shrugged.

"I've been busy, I guess. Undergrad was busy and now I'm working at a law firm in New York," I told him.

"No kidding? I always knew you'd be a lawyer one day," Danny said, pulling out a pastry from under one of the pastry containers. He placed it on a plate and pushed it towards me, pulling out a little package of butter and handing it to me, too.

"Well, I'm not a lawyer just yet. I'm just a paralegal. I have to take my LSATs and get into law school first," I explained to him.

"Tough life," he said. I nodded, cutting the pastry in half and spreading butter on both halves.

"So, how's life been here?" I asked.

"Same old, same old, you know? Nothing too exciting," he replied. "New faces come in, old faces leave," he said.

"Colleges?" I asked. He nodded. "But most of the old faces come back. We haven't seen you in a while," he said. I felt a pang of guilt flash through me as I thought of my poor grandmother in the hospital.

"I know. Like I said, I was busy," I said.

"Busy, or just avoiding this town?" Danny asked, looking at me with those knowing brown eyes of his.

I had always liked Danny. Even though he was only about twelve years older than I was, Danny was always like a father figure to me. I liked to think that if my father was still alive, he'd be just like Danny--friendly and compassionate and caring. Danny knew when I wanted to talk and when I wanted to be left alone. After all, it was him who drove me to the hospital six years ago, on the night I found out.

"I honestly don't want to talk about it," I said. Danny nodded, understanding. He pulled out another towel and began wiping down the countertop.

"So what brings you back?" he asked.

"I'm honestly surprised that no one knows, considering how fast news in this town spreads," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at me.

"My grandmother had a stroke. She's in the hospital," I told him.

"No!" he exclaimed loudly. Several people in the diner looked up at us.

"Yes," I said, lowering my voice and giving him a look.

"Is she all right?" he asked, lowering his as well. I nodded. "Well, that's good. I can't believe I didn't know," he said.

"It's probably because Mrs. Knolls doesn't know," I said. He laughed.

"You're probably right," he said.

I took the last bite of my pastry and put my fork down, my stomach satisfied.

"God, that was delicious. I really did miss this place," I said, drinking the last of my coffee. "Thanks, Danny," I said, pulling out my wallet to pay him.

"Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaimed holding his hand up to stop me. "I haven't seen you in six years. I'm not going to let you pay for this. It's on the house," he said.

"Danny, honestly, it's no big deal," I said, reaching for the money again. He placed his hand on top of mine and gave me a look. I frowned and put my wallet back, defeated.

"Fine, but next time I'm paying for my food," I said, getting off the stool.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Danny said, picking my plate us. I smiled at him.

"It was good seeing you, Danny," I said. He grinned back.

"You, too, kid," he said.

"All right, well I have to go. I'll probably be back for lunch or dinner," I said.

"I'll be here," he replied. I gave him one last smile and then turned to walk out the door.

"Bye, Mrs. Knolls! We'll catch up some other time!" I said, my hand on the doorknob. I turned to open the door and when I did, I came face-to-face with the last person I had expected to be at the diner.

Carter.

__________________________________________________________

A/N: He showed up! Dun, dun, dunnnnn!

So sorry I haven't updated this in a while. I've just been so darn busy. I wanted to finish Ticking Clocks (which I did) and then school started and I've just been so busy with life. But I hope this was a satisfactory update! You got a little insight into her home and the town she grew up in. To get a better feel for the kind of town they live in, think of Stars Hollow in Gilmore Girls. That's the kind of town it is.

Anyway, let me know what you thought. What do you think will happen with Carter showing up at the diner? Do you think he'll ignore her? Or do you think they'll talk?

Leave me a comment! And VOTE (please!)!

Danny in the side bar. Portrayed by the gorgeous Josh Duhamel.

XOXO