This chapter is pretty long and descriptive, but I promise things will pick up at the end.

Only about a month and a half since I last updated. Go me:)

Read and review, please?

Suze

Today has been a very tiring day. And yet I'm still driving, heading home to Carmel and hopefully able to find some answers to my questions.

I feel bad about the way I left Jesse. I could see that he had no idea what was going on with me, but I couldn't tell him. He must have thought that I was avoiding him. Maybe I was. Maybe I was just trying to convince myself that there are other things in life that are more important than a doomed relationship.

I don't really know what I think.

It all started this morning with Cee Cee asking me out to breakfast, during which I told her about yesterday. The morning event with Jesse's mom, and the night event, also with Jesse's mom. Plus, that annoying Terry girl, who in my opinion, should just mind her own freaking business.

Cee was very sympathetic. And because of who she is, being sympathetic isn't enough. She must launch into action, 'counteracting the enemy', as she called it.

Which was why we spent the whole morning following Terry.

Yes, we followed her. Actually, it was more like stalking her, since we found out where she lived (Cee called Terry's modeling agency, pretending to be Terry's new PR agent) and then we followed her to the gym, to her agency, to a restaurant where she had lunch and then back to the agency. We couldn't follow her after that since I had to meet Jesse at Hotel Twenty, but Cee said she'll continue on with the stalking.

It was silly, I know. The whole time when we were following her, I felt nervous just in case someone noticed, but no one did. Cee just acted like it was nothing new. She said she followed people all the time, in order to get the juice news for her column.

It all ended up with nothing, though. Terry didn't exhibit any suspicious behaviour, or dealt with any suspicious people. I was secretly disappointed, because I did wish that we would catch her in another guy's arms, take her pictures and maybe drop them into Jesse's parents' house. That'll show them what kind of a girl she was.

But other than smooching with some other models and exercising like mad at the treadmill, she was almost…ordinary. She didn't even look as mean as she did last night. Which was way annoying, because it made me feel like I was exaggerating the incident at the supermarket. Cee was more positive though, she said you can't tell who someone is just by watching them for half a day. But I gave up. I told her I didn't want to follow Terry anymore, even though I didn't know what to do with the whole Jesse situation.

So Cee Cee asked the most obvious question ever, 'Why don't you ask your mom?"

I laughed at that. Ask my mom about my love life? But later I realized that I could talk to my mom about it. She doesn't know about my mediating abilities, but after my first relationship ended up in the dumps, my mom was the one who comforted me. So I guess she should know something.

Which lead to me going back to Carmel.

It wasn't an easy drive though. My stomach felt sick whenever I remembered the look on Jesse's face when I told him I had to go back. He looked so disappointed. I couldn't believe I even lied about David's birthday. I wanted so badly to reassure him that everything was okay, but how can I do that when I myself didn't know if everything was okay?

The dashboard clock showed the time at 6.15pm as I turned to drive up Pine Crest Road. Seeing that old house again made me feel a little better. It had a lot of great memories, I must admit that. I hated moving from New York at first, but after a while I got used to it. I met Father Dom at school, along with Cee Cee and Adam. And then there were those sleepovers with Gina. Those days were fun. So simple and undemanding.

I missed those days.

I parked at the driveway, and picked up my bag before getting out of the car. I hoped my mom was home…that would really suck if I come back and no one's home. I walked up to the porch and rang the bell.

It was quiet, and I realized that I was expecting to hear Max barking, like he usually did when someone's at the door. But Max had died a couple of years ago due to old age, and that was a sad day in the Simon/Ackerman residence.

The door opened, and the towering figure of Andy, my stepdad emerged.

'Suze? Suze!' He exclaimed, disbelief on his face, but he looked delighted nonetheless. 'What are you doing here?'

I was just about to reply when he came out and gave me a hug. Yikes. He seemed to forget about my No Hugging Policy. Ah well, I'll let it slide for now. I patted him awkwardly on the back, and he released me.

'I'm just dropping by for the weekend,' I said with a shrug. 'Is that okay?'

'Of course! Come in. Let me take that for you,' Andy said, picking up my bag. He didn't have to actually, it wasn't heavy at all since I only filled it with my overnight stuff, but it was cool that he wanted to help anyway.

"Helen! Suze is here!' He hollered towards the back, before turning to me. 'We're having dinner, you're just in time!'

Dinner…yum. I didn't have lunch today, too busy stalking famous models.

The house still looked pretty much the same as the first time I walked into it about 6 years ago. The few notable differences were the absence of surfboards and video games of any kind, the result of Jake and Brad moving away to their own place. And David is away at Columbia, studying Biomedical Engineering.

Yeah, I don't know what that's about, either.

Andy went up the stairs to put my bag in my old room (I didn't know if they'd change it into a guest room or anything, I hoped not, but then again I could do away with the whole Pink Panther theme) and I made my way to the dining room, almost bumping into my mom who was coming out of it.

'Suzie!' She squealed, then hugged me. My mom was one of the few people in my life that I allowed exception to my NHP. The others being Gina, Cee Cee, occasionally Adam when he's not being immature, Father D when he allowed me, my best colleague Fiona and recently, Jesse.

But I mustn't think about him right now.

'Hey mom,' I said lightly, though I felt a little nostalgic. That's the thing about going back to your old house or meeting your parent(s), no matter how far you've traveled or how long you've been gone, you always feel like you just left.

'How are you? My, you're looking good. I love your blouse,' she gushed over my outfit as she held my arm and led me to the dining room, like I had forgotten where it was.

I let out a little laugh, thinking back to the days when she almost burned my torn jeans and leather jacket because I used to wear them everywhere. When I graduated from university, she made me promise that I wouldn't wear them to job interviews. Of course I wouldn't, mom, I replied, eye rolling and whatnot. Never did I imagine she would actually compliment me on my outfit.

But I still have the jeans and jacket. I don't know if I would still fit into them though.

Andy came down, and we settled in for our dinner. One thing that didn't change was Andy's cooking. It's still as great as I remembered.

They asked about my work and my life as an independent working girl. I told them as much as I could, but I noticed that neither of them had mentioned anything about my love life. Then I realized that they didn't know that Jesse and I had gotten back together. I had told my mom about our break up a few months back, and she was disappointed because she thought that Jesse was a great candidate for her only son-in-law, but she understood.

Maaan, I'm gonna have to do some explaining later.

After dinner, I decided to go up to my room and take a shower, but changed my mind when I passed by the deck and saw the hot tub. The unoccupied hot tub, which used to be a rare moment back when my stepbrothers were still staying here. So I went up to my room to change into my swimsuit, and found that my room was still intact. The cream coloured wallpaper, princess phone, glass topped dressing table and a four-poster bed with lace canopy were all still here.

Despite my initial aversion to pink, I did warm up to this room eventually, just like the rest of the house. Especially when I found out that this house, despite being almost 200 years old, was devoid of any ghosts. That made everything about a million times better.

After changing, I went to the deck and turned on the water to the tub. When it was almost full, I turned it off and went in. Instantly my body relaxed in the hot water, and all the tenseness in my muscles disappeared.

This was heaven.

It was peaceful outside here, the light of the day slowly letting go with a beautiful sunset, allowing darkness to fall. I didn't know how long I spent in the tub, but it was enough to make my mind clear, and my skin to wrinkle. When the water had cooled, I slowly stood up and let myself out.

As I was drying myself, the sliding door opened, and my mom walked out with a mug in her hand.

'I made some cocoa for you,' she announced, smiling. 'You must be freezing.'

I was surprised at this gesture, since the last time my mom made cocoa for me must have been when I was about 8, after waking up to a nightmare about the Boogeyman. But I thanked her and took the mug, before sitting down at one of the chaise longues and she sat down on the one next to mine.

She made some small talk about her work, and then about 'the boys' (my stepbrothers). But as I sipped my drink and nodded to her words, I knew she was leading to a certain topic. It was her skills as a reporter; see, talking about general stuff to make you feel comfortable, before moving onto the real point.

And I was right. After a few minutes of talking, she stopped. Then she turned towards me and asked, 'So why did you come back, Suze?'

I knew there was no way to avoid it, but all of a sudden I felt reluctant to talk about my problem.

'I just…missed you guys,' I said, shrugging.

'Nice try. Now tell me the real reason you came back. Because I know that unless there's an event or something important that's happening, you won't be here,' she said pointedly. But she didn't look mad or anything, just curious.

I sighed. Now that she was asking, I didn't know if I should tell her. It was kinda embarrassing, being 22 years old and asking your mom about advice on relationship. I never needed to ask for her help about anything else before.

'Suze?'

I sighed again. 'It's… Jesse.'

And then the whole story came out. From the moment at the party when we met after our break up, the whole sneaking around, his still unyielding parents, Terry the Terrible and everything else related. Even I was shocked about how much I told her, but I was like the hot tub, once you turn on the pipe, the water just came pouring out, non-stop.

Mom, being mom, was of course very sympathetic and she hugged me about 5 times during the exchange. She didn't even say anything about me not telling her that I had gotten back together with Jesse.

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt a wetness on my left cheek. I wiped at my face, putting my mug of cocoa on the ground and feeling much like a loser.

'I just…don't know what to do. I'm trying so hard to be tough and everything, but it's not easy. I know that his parents would probably never like me, no matter what. So what's the point of us being together anyway?' I sobbed pathetically.

'There, there, my poor baby,' my mom murmured, treating me like the nightmare-having 8-year-old. She rubbed my back, listening to my sad story. When I had calmed down, only then did she speak.

'Suze, do you love Jesse?' she asked.

I glanced at her through my tear-stained eyes. Duh, mom. 'Of course I do. Did you miss the whole I–love-him-but-couldn't-be-with-him speech just now?'

She ignored my sarcasm and asked another question. 'Does he love you?'

'Of co-' I paused uncomfortably. Silly Suze, of course he does. 'Yeah, he does. I'm sure he does.'

Again, she ignored my hesitation and continued on. 'Then I'm afraid it's not really in your hands, Suze. If you love him and you don't want to leave him, then it's up to Jesse to decide what he wants. You, or his family. It's his choice to be made.'

I felt goosebumps on my skin, and rubbed at them with my towel. 'But…I don't want to make him choose between me and his family. It's just…not fair to him.'

'And it's not fair to either of you if you continue on with this secret relationship. Sooner or later, someone will find out, especially if that Theresa girl –'

'Terry,' I butted in.

'- is as interfering as you claimed,' she said. She's really on a roll here, with this whole ignoring me deal. 'The best way that I see, is that you two need to sit down together, and have a serious talk about where this relationship of yours is heading. There's no point in trying to fool yourselves.'

'I know…' I admitted reluctantly. 'I'm just not good with this serious talk business. And I don't want to lose him…'

Mom looked concerned. 'I can't possibly imagine what it's like for you, Suze. I've never had to make a choice like this, not with your father and not with Andy. But I'm worried that you're only going to hurt yourself if you don't remove yourself from this situation.'

'Either way…someone's going to get hurt, isn't it?' I stated, not really asking for an answer. I felt miserable, knowing that my dream future with Jesse might be just that…a dream.

'Talk to him,' she advised. 'You never know, people can change.'

That's what Cee told me too. That there's a chance that Jesse's parents might change. Or at least, change their mind about me.

I doubt it, but I guess there's no loss in hoping.

Talk to Jesse. That's what I'm going to do. As soon as I get back to SF, I'm going to call him, and we're going to have a serious talk.

I wonder if that's what he wanted to do when I left him today?

Oh well. Tomorrow will be just as fine. At least tonight, I can sleep better knowing that I have something to look forward to.

- 0 – 0 – 0 -

The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and determined. Determined to enjoy my time here before leaving, before going into a possibly heartbreaking discussion.

So after some light breakfast, I headed out to the beach to get some tan. Really, I'm so pale, even the ghosts look better than me. Not that I've met any recently, which is something I should be really thankful for.

On the way, I decided to drop by the Mission, aka my old school. I was thinking about seeing Father D, maybe ask him about the new students and gossip about Monsignor Constantine. I bet he misses me, not so much as a student, but as a fellow mediating partner. Sure, our methods were different, but our intentions were the same. That's all that mattered.

I know sometimeshe doesn't really think that, especially when I resort to exorcisms, but I think we worked well together anyway.

My hopes for a reunion were dashed though, when I was told by one of the nuns there that Father D has left for a convention of some sort in Nevada.

Nevada? I asked the nun if she was sure that it was a real convention, since you know, Las Vegas is in Nevada.

She gave me a look and walked off huffily. Jeez. No need to get so upset.

So I headed down to the beach.

It was morning, so there weren't many people as yet. I chose a spot near the stairs, laid my beach towel and took off my T-shirt and jeans. I had put on my old leopard print bikini, not really caring that it didn't look new, just that it was comfortable. After putting on some suntan lotion, I laid down on the towel.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up to the sun beating down on my back. I didn't bring a watch, so I had no idea what the time was. Groaning, I slowly sat up, assessing my body for sunburns.

No sunburn. Thank God, or I would have ended up looking like a cooked lobster with green eyes.

I collected my stuff groggily, putting on my shirt and jeans before making my way to my car. As I was walking, I saw someone who looked disturbingly familiar walking out of Jimmy's Quick Mart. Then I realized who he was, and embarrassingly, I felt like I was in high school all over again.

That's what you feel when you meet your ex-boyfriend. Or at least, in my case.

Feeling my heart pounding for nological reason, I quickly walked to my car, making sure my face was turned to the other side. It was stupid, wanting to run away from him, but the way we ended, I didn't think it would be such a good idea to meet him. Especially since he got that blonde chick hanging off his arm.

I always knew he prefers blondes. Ugh.

Relieved that I'd made my way to the car without being seen, I dumped my stuff on the passenger seat and drove off.

When I reached home, Andy and mom were waiting for me. They were getting ready to have lunch, so I helped set up the table to make up for my lateness. As we were eating, my mom started talking about some houses being sold. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying – Andy's food was too good, sorry – until she mentioned something about a glass house.

'What did you say?' I interrupted.

She turned towards me. 'The glass house by the cliff. It was donated for charity by the previous owner. The owner's family is trying to get the court to rule for the house to be in their possession, but I don't think it's going to happen. The will was written very clearly for the house to be donated. But I'm not surprised that the family wants it, the house's value is estimated at about 8 million dollars.'

'8 million,' Andy whistled. 'That's a lot of money for something that's made out of glass.'

Mom rolled her eyes at Andy's lame joke, but I was too lost in thoughts to care.

So maybe that's why Paul – my notorious ex - was here, to make sure that the house belong to the his family – the Slaters. I suddenly feel sad that Grandpa Slaski - the owner of the glass house - is dead. I've only met him a few times, but he seemed okay, for a sick person. Of course, Paul didn't think that, he just called his grandfather a bunch of names and didn't even spend much time at that house. Unless he was bringing some girls back, me unfortunately being one of them.

I always had a feeling that Grandpa Slaski knew more than he let on. He was the one who warned me that Paul wasn't someone I should be close to. And I understood what he meant when I finally told Paul that I was a mediator, and he just laughed at me. He said if I wasn't careful, I'd be 'as crazy as Grandpa Gork'.

Imagine how I felt when I found out that he himself was a mediator. God, that pissed me off more than the day I found him making out with Kelly – my class president - in a classroom.

I was so stupid back then. It was painful remembering my relationship with him. No wonder mom was so pleased about Jesse, I mean, compared to Paul, Jesse is like the Pope.

Hah, I bet the Slaters were beyond angry that Grandpa Slaski decided to donate the house, instead of willing it to them.

Good for you, Grandpa.

After lunch I packed up my things to go back to SF. I said goodbye to mom and Andy, even hugged them both voluntarily. I felt a little hollow to be leaving this house, to be leaving them. Here, everything is calm and everyone seems to take their time in doing anything, compared to the hustle bustle of the city where I live now.

When I hugged mom, she whispered for me to be positive about Jesse, and to call her if I ever needed to talk.

I appreciated that. And I think she's glad that after about 16 years of not confiding to her, I've let go that part of myself. She didn't know that I still keep one big secret from her, but I figured if the right time comes, I'll do what I feel is right, even if it meant telling her about me being a mediator.

We said our goodbyes and I drove away, back to reality.

I think my time away did me good though. For one thing, I knew what I had to do with this whole Jesse situation: talk with him. For another, it made me feel glad that even if things didn't work out, at least my taste in men has improved since Paul.

When I'd reached the city, I decided to stop at Barnes & Nobles and replenish my stationery stock at work. I feel bad for the trees in general whenever I use too much paper, but I couldn't help it that my writingis bigger than the average.

As I was deciding between 70-paged or 100-paged notepads, I heard my name being called. Actually, it was a version of my name.

'Susan? Is it Susan?'

Feeling slightly annoyed, I turned to look at the person, ready to snap when I saw that it was the woman whom Jesse and I met at the hotel yesterday. The one who was overly cheerful, it was kinda sickening.

'You were the journalist who came to Hotel Twenty yesterday, am I right?' She smiled toothily.

What was her name? Crap, I forgot.

'Yes, I was. And it's Susannah, actually. Susannah Simon,' I clarified, hoping that she would re-introduce herself to me.

'Oh, I'm sorry. Susannah, that's right. I don't know if you remember me, but we met yesterday? I'm Clara Jones,' she said, holding out a hand.

Oh, right. Clara Jones. Vice President of Hotel Twenty. Now I remember.

I shook her hand and smiled, not really knowing what to say. I had no idea why she was speaking to me. Maybe she wanted to know what we're going to write in the magazine. Hah, maybe she's trying to get a mention inside the article. Too bad we're not actually writing it.

'How was the interview?' Clara asked brightly.

'It went well,' I lied.

'I'm glad to hear that. Mind you, we haven't had any journalists coming to interview us for a long time. This whole YLN business has been a real setback,' she said.

I felt a little curious as to why would she say something like this to a journalist. So I asked her if she wasn't worried that we would print not-so-nice stuff about the hotel.

She looked around, as if afraid that someone might overhear, then spoke in a low voice, 'To be honest, I was hoping that you would. Despite what Robert has been saying, we've been doing worse since YLN monopolized the industry. And it's not just that…'

I looked at her expectantly.

'Everyone has noticed what happened to Darren and Steven. It's too strange to be a coincidence. And I'm afraid that if Robert isn't relenting, he could be next. And then me!' She looked at me, wide-eyed.

'Wait a second. So you think that what happened to Darren and Steven were not accidental or natural?' I asked.

'Don't you? What happened to them was a bit suspicious, don't you think? Well, everyone at Hotel Twenty thinks that, but no one dared to voice them out loud for fear that Robert might let go of them.'

Hmm. This was interesting. 'So let me get this straight. You want us to print a bad article about Robert and Hotel Twenty so that he would resort to selling it? I don't think it's going to work.'

'I – well, not a bad article…' she faltered. 'I'm just afraid that YLN will go to any lengths to get the hotel.'

'Then you should do something about it. Maybe make a police report or something. I can't really help you much, sorry,' I told her.

'But are you going to look into this? You're a journalist, right? So you can find out more about what's really going on,' she said, somewhat desperately.

'Well…' I wondered if I should tell her. 'Off the record, we do have some suspicions about YLN. But there's no evidence. It's really none of our business; we just wanted to do a profile on Robert for the magazine.'

The magazine which I have also forgotten the name. Some fake journalist I was.

'Oh, so you do think it's suspicious. Well, that's something, at least…' she trailed off. She didn't look so imposing up close, unlike yesterday, with her red pantsuit and bright red lipstick. Now, in a beige blouse and skirt, she even looked much younger.

Of course, that may be due to Botox, but whatever.

'Look, we'll try and look into it, okay? In the meantime, just keep a low-profile and YLN won't bother you,' I assured her.

She looked relieved, and I actually felt a little sorry for her. It must have been scary knowing that you're probably next in line for an assassination.

Looks like I was wrong when I thought nothing was going on yesterday. I must tell Jesse –

Come to think of it, I have a lot to tell Jesse.

I'll just call him when I get home. Maybe we can have dinner, if he's not working.

Clara and I went on our way after talking about some books she was buying, and I left the shop after paying for my new things. I guess I was wrong about Clara. She was actually quite nice.

It wouldn't be the first time I've been wrong about someone.

The traffic wasn't so bad as I drove home. I turned on the radio and flicked through the channels to find a preferable song. I'm not so into all these rap-rock stuff. I could barely understand what the singers are saying, let alone endure the heavy guitar riffs and all that.

The light turned red at the four-way intersection, and I stopped my car just in time, the car in front of me made it all the way through. I leaned down to look at the station numbers on the radio properly, when my car was suddenly jolted from behind.

Since I didn't pull on the handbrake, my car slid easily across the junction on the way of oncoming traffic from the left hand side. Wild with panic, I slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve to the right, but it was too late. A dark blue SUV smashed into my side of the car, sending it spinning and skidding before colliding against a traffic light on the other side of the intersection.

The car had stopped, but inside I felt like I was still spinning. The window on my side had shattered during the collision, and I was vaguely aware of sounds of other cars braking, and people shouting, but it was as if I was hearing them through a veil.

Something warm was trailing down my face, and when I tried to move, my whole body hurt. I couldn't shift my left leg, and I somehow knew that it must be broken.

And then much to the embarrassment of mediators everywhere – except Paul because he has no shame - I passed out.