John ran his purchases back to his apartment, while Jenna wrapped her duties at work. When he came back for her, she was waiting outside chatting with a fellow cashier, sipping on a cup of coffee while her friend had a quick cigarette. He fed the parking meter, and when he turned back, Jenna was giving her co-worker a hug good-bye. She flashed a smile at him, as she threw her empty cup away and headed down the sidewalk toward him.

"Hey there, handsome customer," she said.

"Hey there, beautiful cashier," he returned. They began walking down the street together.

"So Jenna, any idea of what would be good to eat?"

She thought for a second. "There's this great little Chinese carryout place nearby. They have a bench outside, and we could eat there."

"Sounds good to me."

They settled into a comfortable walking rhythm as they headed down the street. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but John felt that he should start some sort of conversation. "So, Jenna, what are you up to when you aren't working?"

"Well, I go to school part time. I also enjoy collecting old records and discovering music I haven't heard of before. Sometimes, I even wish I was born a couple of decades earlier, so I could have experienced the music I love as everybody else was first experiencing it. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I'll be quiet now."

John chuckled. "No, it's okay. Despite all of the politics and social problems, most of the last part of the 20th century was a good time to live in."

"I get the feeling you have some pretty strong thoughts about the politics and social problems don't you John?"

"You read me so well."

Jenna and John shared a laugh, and they fell back into a slightly more comfortable silence.

The restaurant was a hole in the wall place about five blocks from Randazzo's, squeezed between a pizza place and a deli. If Jenna wasn't walking with him and pointing it out, John didn't think he would have noticed it. As they walked inside, the woman at the counter looked up. Her face lit up when she recognized Jenna, and she gave the old woman a warm smile. Wordlessly, she turned and went back to the kitchen. John was confused by the exchange, and Jenna noticed.

"She prefers not to speak too much. Her English isn't all that good, and she's embarrassed about it," she whispered quietly.

"How do you know?"

Jenna shrugged. "We've talked about it before. Usually, she just goes and gets one of her sons when customers come in, but one night we struck up a conversation."

The old woman came back to the counter with a couple of bags of food. She pressed a couple of buttons at the register, and the price flashed up on the screen. Jenna reached into her bag for her wallet, but before she could pull out cash, John had already handed the woman some cash. She gave him his change, and gave them a broad smile and wave good-bye.

Once they were outside, Jenna turned to John. "Thanks for covering dinner, John."

"Not a problem, Jenna. I was the one who invited you out in the first place."

Just as they sat down, John's phone rang. He looked at the caller id, and sighed.

"Munch," he said, answering the phone.

He listened for a couple of minutes, and said, "Okay, I'll meet you there in a half hour."

"Jenna, I'm so sorry, but I've got to go. Duty calls," John said, slipping his phone back into the holder.

"I understand John. It's okay," she replied.

He took out a small notebook and pen. "Here, write down your phone number. I still want to take you to dinner sometime."

She took the pen, and quickly wrote down her number. Handing it back to him, she said, "Is it clear? I've been told I have the handwriting of a doctor."

John smiled. "I can read it just fine. I gotta go. I'll call you."

With that, he began walking briskly down the street to pick up his car. Jenna, meanwhile, was left in the middle of the sidewalk, holding two Chinese dinners. As she thought about it, she realized that her tea wasn't sounding as good as eating some Chinese take-out, and that she wouldn't be able to eat both meals. But, she knew who would want to enjoy it with her. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed a familiar number.

"Hi Mom. Have you eaten yet?"

45 minutes later, Jenna was in front of her mother's front door. Her mother lived in Brooklyn, in an old brownstone that she and her stepfather had bought. According to historical documents, the brownstone had housed many movers and shakers in the early 20th century. Her mother was a historical buff, and she had practically bought it on the spot. Her mother and stepfather spent two years restoring the home, and Jenna loved coming over to visit, or even just to do her homework in her their beautiful book-lined study.

Her stepfather was out of town on business, and her mother had mentioned a couple of days ago that she was bored. Coming over with dinner made perfect sense.

She raised her fist to knock, but the door opened before she had the chance to.

"Jenna, baby, it's so good to see you," her mother said, as she wrapped her arms around her. Her mother, Abigail Messter, was a journalist, and had recently landed her dream job, as a writer for the New York Times. Abigail had gotten pregnant with Jenna while she was still in college, and had vowed that she would prove to her unborn daughter that you can do anything you set your mind to. She earned her degree when Jenna was a toddler, and had never stopped going.

"It's good to see you too, Mom," Jenna said, returning the hug, and putting the bags of food down. Abigail took the bags into the kitchen, and began heating food up in the microwave while Jenna took off her shoes, and hung up her jacket. From the kitchen, her mother called out to her.

"Jenna, do you want a glass of wine?"

"Sure, Mom. Do you have merlot?"

"Of course, dear." Abigail smiled, as pulled a couple of chilled wine goblets out of the freezer. She and her daughter both preferred their wine cold and the bottle she bought hadn't been sitting in the fridge long enough. Jenna came in, and poured the wine as the microwave began going off. She took the wine to the table, while Abigail followed close behind, with two hot plates.

All through dinner, Jenna was surprised that her mother didn't ask how she ended up with two meals, instead of one. Abigail had a knack for knowing exactly what to say to pull the story out of her daughter, and it was a bit strange that she hadn't said anything. Instead, they chatted about just about everything else, from the weather, to their jobs, to Jenna's plan to go to Boston to visit her father for a couple of days during spring break from school. As the meal went on, Jenna began to think that her mother was just going to let her questions go unasked.

Instead, the question came while they were doing dishes.

"Jenna, how did you end up with two dinners tonight?" Abigail asked.

Jenna swallowed hard. "Well, I was supposed to eat them with someone else. No offense, Mom."

"None taken. Who was it?"

"It...it was a customer at work, Mom. He wanted to have dinner with me."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, he's been coming in for a long time."

There was a long pause, as Abigail washed and Jenna dried. Finally, Abigail turned and looked at her. "Jenna, honey, let's sit down."

She dried her hands, and led her daughter to the library. They took a seat on a black leather couch. "Baby, don't you think it's a little soon to start dating again?"

"I...I don't know, Mom. It feels right, but at the same time, a little wrong. It makes me wonder what Rob would say."

"What would he say, sweetheart?"

Jenna started to cry. "I don't know, Mom. He'd want me to be happy, I know. It's just so hard to be happy without him. But, this man could make me so happy."

Abigail pulled her crying daughter into a hug. "You have good judgment, Jenna Arsetti. You have quite a few people in your life that can give you sound advice. I know it's hard to navigate, but just take it slow. You'll do the right thing."

Jenna sniffled, as she started to calm down. "Okay, Mom. I will."

John and Fin ended up at a 24 hour diner around 2am, exhausted after a long, unexpected night of work. Fin, settling on his choice, closed his menu and put it down on the table. John had a menu open, but he was staring out into space. His partner had seemed a little distracted tonight. The sarcasm and wise cracks he had grown to expect out of John had been muted tonight. As the waitress came by and took their order, Fin vowed to find up what was up.

"Look, old man, what's up with you? You've been distracted all night."

"What are you talking about? I'm not an old man."

Fin rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, man.

His partner paused. "You're right, I am distracted. Let's just say there's a person on my mind."

"A woman, you mean."

"Yes, mind reader, a woman. I almost took her out to eat tonight."

"Did you chicken out or something?"

John rolled his eyes. "No, you called."

Fin chuckled. "So, what's up with her? How'd you meet her?"

"She works at a grocery store. She seems like a sweet girl. It's just..."

"What?"

John sighed. "There's just something in her eyes, her demeanor. It's like she was hurt before."

"You think some dude beat her?"

"No, nothing like that. More like emotional pain."

Fin nodded, and thought for minute. "Be gentle on her, John. Take it slow and easy."

Just then, their food arrived. As Fin reached for the ketchup, John nodded. "That's the plan, man."