Zoe Hart completed her third lap of what passed for a liquor store in Bluebell. What she really wanted was a bottle of cool, crisp Chenin Blanc to drown her sorrows in. But the small wine selection in this tiny Alabama town left a lot to be desired. A few shelves tucked back in one corner of a store dominated by beer cases stacked in the shape of the Crimson Tide logo and bottles of actual moonshine larger than her head. She wasn't quite ready to resort to the box wine again. That hadn't turned out well the first time around and she hardy needed a repeat of the myriad embarrassments of that night.

She sighed heavily, blowing her bangs out of her face, and settled on a bottle of homemade peach wine made from locally grown fruit. The label on the bottle looked decidedly DIY. Quite a step down from the stuff her mother bought: imported from France, bottled by vineyards every wine connoisseur knew the name of. Still this bottle couldn't be any worse than a box of Franzia. And it was probably a lot safer for her reputation.

She turned to head to the register to make her purchase and caught the young employee behind the counter staring at her. He was the only towns-person she had seen since mid-afternoon. She'd had no patients since 2:30 and Addy had left for the day shortly after. After puttering around bored for the rest of her office hours, she had locked up and headed out to find the town deserted. No one on the streets, no one in the stores, no one getting a sweet tea fix at the bakery. She hadn't seen a single person until she walked into the liquor store and she'd guess that lone employee hadn't had much company either. He certainly looked starved for conversation.

Another sigh and she reached out to wrap her other hand around a second bottle. What the heck. Why not? Its not like she had plans tonight. Even if she wanted to make some, everyone was at the party. Everyone except her, and the young guy smiling eagerly at her as she approached his register. He was practically dancing in anticipation of her arrival at his register. There went any hope Zoe had of escaping with less than ten minutes of small talk and pleasantries. Sure it was nice that Bluebell was so friendly, but sometimes a girl just wanted to run a quick errand in peace.

"Evening, Doctor Hart." the young man's smile was warm and sincere, full of open friendship and Southern hospitality. That was hard to get used to. In New York no one smiled like that unless they wanted something from you. And most guys approached her with much sleazier smiles.

"Hi there… I'm sorry, I think I forgot your name?" Zoe responded. What? Sure Bluebell may be a small town, but its still a lot of people to remember.

"Oh I haven't had the pleasure of being introduced yet but your reputation proceeds you." Before she could wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing he extended a hand across the counter. "Name's Jon, Jon Long."

"Nice to meet you, Jon Long." Zoe shook his hand. "Long, hmm? This being such a small town I imagine…"

He smiled, following her train of thought, and began to ring up her up and bag her bottles.

"Tom Long's my cousin. He's the first that told me you came to town." he said. As she handed him a few bills she noticed the resemblance. Jon didn't quite have Tom's baby-face but if all the Long men had that same smile, she wouldn't have any trouble recognizing them. He handed back her change. "'Course, the way this town gossips, I'd have heard it before long anyway."

"This town does love to know everything about its neighbors. Its kinda nice though. My neighbor back in New York wouldn't know me if I threw the newspaper he was always stealing from me at his head." Zoe did not miss the greasy Wall Street suit-wearing Gordon-Gecko wannabe that stole her paper, stumbled home with bimbos at 4am on the weekends, and stunk up the elevator with his over-priced cologne.

Tom chuckled and shook his head. Boy, sure sounded like the TV was right about New Yorkers being less than friendly folk. The Longs rarely left Alabama and when they did the still never ventured north of the Mason-Dixon line.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Zoe grabbed her bag and started sidling towards the door. Jon was just as nice as Tom, but she had pressing business waiting at the bottom of a wine glass and standing around here, sober, wasn't going to get it done.

"It was real nice to meet you, Jon, I'm sure I'll see you around." she called over her shoulder on her way out. "Try not to get too bored tonight."

"Bit late for that," his chuckle reached her as she stepped onto the sidewalk "I might close up a bit early. Haven't had any customers since my shift started except you and Crazy Earl. "

Zoe stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk outside.

Oh no.

Earl.