*Two weeks later*

*Jolene's POV*

Being distracted by unpacking and getting settled into our new house has helped me to take my mind off my old job. It's time to leave that all in the past. Fairvale, Dr. Vincent, Norman…

There I go again.

Richard apologized profusely for hitting me. I gave him the cold shoulder for the remainder of the day but I forgave him the next. After all, he does love me. I don't doubt that a bit.

This house has a huge bay window in the front, that's where I've been cleaning for about half an hour.
The house was well taken care of, but nobody has lived here for around twenty years. I wouldn't be surprised if we have a ghost friend along with us.

I have so many things I wanna do with this house. There are so many rooms to fill and many decorations I wanna buy.
There's even a little alcove connecting to the master bedroom, which would be a perfect nursery.
That is, if we ever have children. Or get married.

I finish dusting the bay window after I've placed a few photos and plants down I make my way upstairs.
The only place that still has boxes is the office.
This room is incredible. The walls are bookshelves. I go over to one of the boxes and recognize it as the one I had given Norman.
I grab a handful of books and organize them on one of the shelves until I come across a brown leather-bound one I've never seen before.

The front inner cover has "N. Bates" on the top left-hand corner. He must've tossed this in here on accident.
The angel and devil on my shoulders are debating on whether or not I should read it. The devil wins.

I flip to a random page not too far in the book:

'Today has been a good day. I have barely heard from Mother. I went to the cafeteria for all three meals, and I even played the piano a little bit. I miss the motel more and more everyday, though. Also, there is this beautiful new nurse who works here. Her name is Jolene Peterson. Oh, how I wish I could get to know her. She has short blonde hair which curls at her shoulders, inviting green eyes, and a warm, pearly smile. I wish I could see her more than 15 minutes a day. I know today is the first day I've met her, but I feel as though I can really trust her. She just seems like..a friend. Oh, but she could never like me. She's so stunning and kind and I'm, well, me. Anyway, I'm going to go to sleep now.

Until next time,

Norman Bates.'

Oh, Norman. You're so much more than just 'You.'

I flip to the next page:

'I can't recall ever feeling this way about another person, ever. Jolene makes me feel so…warm. The way she smiles at me, I can't even describe how it makes me feel. I'll admit, I have had a few dreams about her that have made me feel wrong. Especially with the way Mother responded to them. I think about them frequently, though. We were back at my house, well, we were at the motel in one of the rooms. All that covered our bodies was the thin sheet that goes underneath the top blanket. She rolled over to face me, the sun washing in on her face, and gave me such a sensual look. Then she kissed me passionately, climbed on top of me, and made me feel better than I've ever felt. Her lips were on my jaw and chin occasionally, and the way she ran her fingers on my collarbones and sides..it was almost as if I could feel it in real life, even though I was dreaming. Once I woke up, I had beads of sweat on my forehead and a tight feeling in my lower stomach. I handled myself the way I had as a younger man until Mother found out and called me dirty. The dream made me feel dirty, but I couldn't help it.

Anyway, I need to go to the cafeteria now.

Norman Bates.'

My eyes were wide while reading the entire entry. Norman has had dreams about me. It doesn't bother me. I mean, he's a man in his twenties. Basic study of the human body could tell you that it doesn't take much for young men to have thoughts as such, and get all riled up. It's just that I didn't realize he'd had these kinds of thoughts about me. I knew he had a small crush on me, but I didn't know this. I've never thought of him like that. I've hardly even thought of Richard like that. Sure, I had a school girl crush on Norman. How could I not? He's a handsome man. I'd only thought of him as a friend, maybe even a confidant. He's probably over this now, though. I'd say he lost his feelings for me when I tried to get him to go to therapy. Oh well. That's the past now.

Out of respect for Norman, and fear of Richard coming home anytime, I stopped reading. Guilt overcomes me for reading the entries I did. If he wanted me to know those things, he'd have told me.

I clutch the journal to my chest, going downstairs into the main room. Hiding this would probably be the best option, but where?

Turning toward the kitchen, I see my shelf of cookbooks. Perfect! He'd never look here, and if he did it's in plain sight so it wouldn't seem out of the ordinary. As I lift the book up, a loose, folded sheet of paper falls out. I grab it off the ground and unfold it, gasping slightly.

It's a sketch of me. A really good one at that. In the drawing I'm holding a flower, smiling down at it. There's a large Victorian house drawn behind me, but I don't know why. It the bottom right corner he'd written 'Jolene at the manor.' Perhaps it's a house from a dream he'd had of me or something. Admiring it once more, I fold it up and place it back in the journal.

Just as I slide the journal in the shelf, the back door opens and I quickly spin around, smiling.

"Hey Jo, what are you doing?" He lays his briefcase on the kitchen counter.

"Nothing, just doing a little organizing. How was work?" I ask.

He smiles, walking over and wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me to him. "It was fine, but I missed you. I couldn't stop thinking about you.." Trailing off, he starts placing multiple kisses on my jaw, then neck.

I close my eyes for a second, then put my hands on his chest and push him away. "Not right now."

Rolling his eyes and scoffing, he turns from me. "It's always 'not right now'. You know, as my wife you're to do what I say."

"I guess it's a good thing we're not married then." I go in the living room, not really wanting to fight right now.

"You know if you're not careful I'll have to find someone else to go to bed with." He gives a smug grin.

That's his idea of a joke.

I sink down on the couch, crossing my arms.

"Come on, it was a joke."

"I know."

"So, why are you mad?"

"I'm not."

"Do you love me?"

"Of course.''

He leans over to me, kissing my cheek and laying his head on my shoulder.

After a minute I stand up and go into the kitchen to start fixing dinner. Of course, the first thing I look at is the journal. The phone rings, which makes me jump, and I speed walk over to get it. "Hello?"

"Is this Jolene Peterson?" The voice asks.

"Yes, why?" That doesn't seem suspicious.

"This is Mr. James. I was just calling to see if you could possibly come here and pick up your final paycheck?"

I bite my lip.

"Hello?"

"I'm still here. I'm sorry. Yes, I can. When?"

"Tomorrow if possible. I won't be here so you'll have to get it from Dr. Vincent."

I roll my eyes and silently mock him. "Ok, I can do that. Thank you."

"Thank you. Bye, now."

"Bye."

Richard leans around the wall from the couch. "Who was that?"

"Mr. James. He needs me to come pick up my paycheck tomorrow."

He nods. "Are you going to?"

"Well yeah. I want what I worked for." I hop up on the counter, looking down and picking a piece of lint off my skirt.

He gets up and walks into the kitchen, leaning against the counter across from me. "I can go for you if you'd like, so you don't have to deal with any of them anymore."

Gee, aren't you Mr. Tough Guy. I shake my head. "No, I'll be fine. I can handle it."

He doesn't respond but instead goes back to where he was sitting in the living room.

I turn to the refrigerator to get some things to cook and maybe take my mind off of things.

*Next day*

"Jo, speed it up. I've gotta get you to your train." Richard shouts through the house, going back out to the car. I give myself one more look and exit the bathroom, flipping the light off as I do so. I start to go out to the door, but freeze in the kitchen. There sits Norman's journal. I debate for a minute before grabbing it, scribbling a quick note in it, and shoving it in the bottom of my purse.

The train ride seemed to last forever, though it was only an hour. I look up at the large sign that says 'Fairvale Mental Institution' and brace myself.
Pushing the door open, I'm greeted by the smell that I became familiar to. I don't know how to describe it other than medicine and loneliness. I avoid looking in the lobby or at the reception desk as I walk straight to Dr. Vincent's door. It's cracked, and I start to push it open until a female voice stops me.

"And you're sure you can keep him crazy? No chance of him getting out?"

"Come on, you should just trust me. I know what I'm doing."

This is interesting. I look both ways before stepping closer to the door and leaning in, placing my ear in front of the crack for better sound.

"I do. I want him in here until hell freezes over. I'm paying you well enough."

He laughs. "That you are, and I appreciate every penny. You should've seen his face when I drug him in here the other day. He got angry and I used reverse psychology on him. That shut him up."

They laugh in unison.

"And she's gone, right?"

"Yes. She's not a problem anymore, with the help of some staff."

Who's her? What guy are they talking about?

"Anyway, I must be going now. Remember, the longer he's in here the more I pay you."

There's a small silence, which I assume he nodded during. "Goodbye, Ms. Crane. Safe travels on your trip back."

I quickly move to the other side of the hall. Crane. Hm, that name sounds familiar, though I can't put my finger on where I've heard it.

The door opens and a very elegant young woman steps out. She has blonde, shoulder length curls similar to mine. Her eyes look dodgy, almost scared, as if she's somewhere she shouldn't be. She gives me a quick smile, then puts her head down and walks toward the entrance.

"Well, if it isn't Jolene. Come on in here." Dr. Vincent enthuses.

I roll my eyes, walking in with no intention of getting comfortable. "I just came for my paycheck."

He smirks, walking to his desk and grabbing an envelope, handing it to me.

That was easier than I expected.

I start to leave, but his voice stops me.

"We're taking good care of your little buddy. Don't worry."

Turning around, I give him a pleading look. "Please don't do anything to him. He doesn't deserve it. He's so much more than his illness."

He holds his hands up in defense. "I can only do what I'm capable of. I can't help what Mama's rambling about."

Squinting my eyes, I shake my head and turn around once more, leaving.

The lobby is empty for the most part with the exception of a few patients.

Norman's door comes in to view and I walk over, digging the journal out of my purse. Raising my fist to knock, I decide against it and just squat down, shoving it under his door and turning to leave, hopefully for the last time.

Thank you again for you input on my chapters. The long reviews are awesome! I agree with your opinion of last chapter, it was choppy. Hopefully this one cleared it up some. Bear with me, as this is the first story I've ever written! Thank you again. I look forward to your review. :)