DYLAN PLACED the last of the food items in the picnic basket, closing it out as he looked to see if Valerie had finished eating and cleaning. He sort of felt bad (key word: sort of) because she was getting what was underneath the stove top, and that wasn't exactly pretty. But it killed time. It was enough for Dylan to get everything sorted out.

In a matter of five minutes, Dylan heard the screen door of the house close, and with that the young man rose to his feet, closing the trunk of the car and went over to the passenger's side door, smiling innocently at his wife as she made her way over to him.

"Never again will I pull dead rats from underneath the stove," was the first thing Valerie said as she was walking towards her husband. Dylan chuckled, opening the door to her side of the car.

"I'm sorry, love." Dylan said. "but you're small enough to get the job done."

Valerie furrowed her eyebrows together, still not used to him calling her love, the household nickname between the two. She decided not to ask him why he called her that, but instead went along with what was going on. She'd hoped wherever they were going, that there wouldn't be any arguments between them.

…

    Dylan kept thinking about the pat on the hand Valerie had given him that morning as they drove. He wondered if she started to recollect some memory, he wondered what possessed her to do such a nice gesture. Whatever it was, he wanted to feel it again.

Valerie watched the trees pass by as they drove further and further away from their California home. She was curious as to where they were heading off to, but she didn't question it. She snuck glances at Dylan, finding his driving skills to be sort of. . . Attractive. The way his arm held loosely on the wheel, the other on the clutch, it was if he ruled the universe with this vehicle.

The twenty-year-old thought of when they awoke this morning. She thought about Dylan's face and how the sun so flawlessly reflected on his skin, how his gray eyes glistened in the light, his groggy smile and his hair disheveled. She thought about she patted his hand. She didn't understand why she did that, but it seemed appropriate for the moment, especially because this man -- who is supposedly her husband -- was being sincere with his apology.

Even though Valerie kept fading in and out with remembering her husband's name, as she sat in the passenger's side of the car and looked at him. And then, the name Dylan stuck inside her miraculous brain of intelligence. Ever so gently, the young woman brought her hand on top of Dylan's, and allowed her thumb to graze over his fingers; feeling a smile form upon her lips.

She felt his eyes on her, and when her head rose, the duo exchanged genuine, happy smiles, then said nothing. They kept driving, letting the radio play until the commercial ads gave out.

…

   The sound of trees brisking harshly in the wind greeted both Dylan and Valerie with a chilling breeze. Valerie shook, as did the man beside her and they both hugged themselves. They were up in the mountains of Big Bear, a place where it was notorious for their gorgeous lakes and resturaunts.

Dylan opened the trunk and grabbed the picnic blanket and basket. Slamming it shut, he smiled at his wife and stood in front of her.

"You ready?" Dylan asked her. Valerie nodded, "Yup." she replied, returning the gesture of a smile as her lips tugged into a grin. The young man offered his hand. Not holding any hesitation, Valerie interlocked their fingers together, walking in sync with this man she barely knew.

She didn't know how, or why, but she felt comfortable with Dylan.

And she hoped to keep it that way.

…

    They sat on a log in front of the lake, the water rippling as the sun began to go down. Dylan held on to his breath a little while longer, shaking off the nerves as to what he was about to do. He stood to his feet, along with the picnic essentials in hand.

"Come on, love." Dylan called as he was already walking ahead. Quizzically, Valerie stood up and followed him, secretly disappointed that they had to leave their temporary paradise.

Valerie shut the door behind her, putting her seatbelt on. "Where are we going?" she asked him.

Dylan started the car, pulling out of the wooded area, smiling.

"You'll see."

…

    She rested in the passenger's seat, waiting for Dylan to return from the trunk's abyss. They were at a beach, though the twenty-year-old didn't know what the name of it was, but it looked nice. They had been driving nearly all night, and now, here they were, at six in the morning, at the beach.

The area was quiet, Dylan had noticed as he searched for a blanket. When he found it, he folded it up and grabbed a box of chocolates. It was a customized box of sweets, ranging from chocolate-covered strawberries to fudge brownies, mint fudge; finishing off with marshmallow fudge.

He walked past the passenger's side of the car, turning around to see that his wife was trying to find a radio station to listen to. He searched for a place to put the blanket and chocolates on, until finally he settled for the center of the shore. It wasn't too far, not too short, from the water. He quickly checked his pocket and felt the object. Pulling it out, he smiled.

He couldn't wait.