Chapter 2! This is what Riley is doing while Ben and Abigail are over in England. Poor guy, he can't ever get a break can he? In this chapter, I quote the movie: Casablanca- I'm not sure if its completely accurate- quote wise, but you'll get the picture. Kudos to you if you've seen this movie!

Disclaimer: Need I say more? Oh wait, I forgot. I did mention Casablanca in this chapter and I must reaffirm the fact that I do not own Casablanca either. :-(

Back in the states, Riley was sitting on his couch re-reading a certain letter for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was from his Great Uncle Jonathan, it said to come and see him at the bookstore, and more importantly the fact that his grandfather, Richard "Ricky" Poole was dead.

He considered calling Ben for a moment, but dismissed the thought as ridiculous. Ben and Abi were on their honeymoon. He was sure they would not appreciate his call. Maybe he could deal with this and by the time they were back there would be nothing left to worry about.

For most people, getting a letter about the death of your favorite grandparent would be a sobering experience- even if you were drunk. Fortunately, Riley Poole was not drunk; not very drunk anyways. How much alcohol did it take for a person to become drunk? Three glasses of wine? Six Beers? Eh, either way he'd only had two glasses of wine and four beers. He vaguely remembered something from his high school chem. class about the person's body mass and the amount consumed. But he really wasn't in the mood to bother with that. He wasn't concerned about the effects if the alcohol, he was still reading the letter. As if the letter might magically rewrite itself and become a much happier letter that his Uncle had just sent in a friendly manner.

Nope, no magic; it was the same letter he had been reading for almost three hours. He massaged his temples, wanting desperately for this mess to be over. He hated sad stories and funerals. And yet they kept creeping up on him, when he was least expecting them. Riley should have learned to expect them long ago. He tossed the letter down on his lavish and expensive coffee table and sighed, taking a swig from his most recent beer. Not intoxicated-shall we say- enough to make destructive decisions about driving, he made the decision to go see his Uncle in the morning.

Reseating himself on the couch in a more comfortable manner, he pressed play on the DVD remote and changed his focusto the movie instead- Casablanca as it were.

Casablanca had been his dad's favorite movie, and Riley remembered watching it every year on Christmas eve, exactly at midnight ( this was after he found out there was no Santa Claus, it was a rather disappointing situation, but a story for another time…). And then there were the various times that his dad just watched the movie for fun, sometimes his Grandfather would come over and watch it too. Riley liked the movie because it was in black and white. Something about old black and white movies had always fascinated and captivated him; he got that from his father. His grandfather had always found his son's and grandson's obsession with the movie rather odd. But had given up on trying to figure it out long ago.

Riley shook his head, banishing all thoughts of his grandfather and father.

"How many long was it we had honey?" Rick Blaine growled at Ilsa.

"I didn't count the days," she answered, all teary eyed, looking down in shame.

"Well I did-every one of them. But mostly I remember the last one. The wild finish. The guy standing on the train platform in the rain with a comical look on his face because his insides had just been ripped out."

Where did Ilsa get off trying to walk back into Rick Blaine's life anyway? He had always wondered this, and these were his thoughts as he fell asleep.

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Riley's uncle Jonathan was an interesting person. The man was rake thin, warm and gentle, and completely crazy. Riley wondered how he would survive with out his Grandfather. Uncle Jonathan was his mother's brother. He used to ask his grandpa why he took care of Uncle Jonathan so much, and he would always answer by saying "We take care of each other. With out him, I'd be in the dark ages,"

He wasn't sure whether to believe his grandfather, but he owed it to both of them show up, so that's what he was doing. He stood on the sidewalk looking up at the big sign for his grandfather's bookstore." A piece of history," it read- a map drawn behind it.

He had always wondered why his grandfather would use a dumb name like that, but it didn't seem to bother any of the customers. He walked into the store and looked around, it sure hadn't changed much. Riley remembered spending lots of time here as a kid, reading various books from the old shelves. The place was a piece of history at the very least; his grandparents had started it when they eloped and got married. They had moved to Washington D.C. the nation's capitol in a particularly patriotic moment, and that was how they bought the space that would be the bookstore. And somehow Uncle Jonathan ended up in the mix.

Not many people knew much about his childhood, even Ben and Abi only knew part of it. His parents had split up when he was only four. There had been no harsh feelings between the two. Angie and Michael Poole had split on non-acrimonious terms. Things simply hadn't worked out for them. There were no ill feelings, Riley lived mainly with his father because his mom's job required her to travel a lot; but spent most weekends and thanksgiving with his mom. And in during his youth, his father insisted he spend time with his Grandfather. Riley had no problem with this seeing as his Grandfather was one of his favorite people.

His father was currently deceased; he had been killed in a bank hold up when Riley was 21. After this horrific event in his life, he had sort of lost touch with his grandpa. He never meant too, but it just happened. And now, it was too late for him to change it. Wasn't that just the way things went? You never realized what you had until it was gone and you were left missing it.

"Well hello, long time no see,"

He turned around and found himself being engulfed in a bear hug by his uncle. "Hi Uncle Jon," he whispered into the older man's shoulder.

"How you been kiddo?" Jonathan asked pulling away from his nephew.

Riley gave him a half-hearted smile, "I've been okay…Okay, that's a lie. I've been okay up unto this point, and now I'm not. Okay, that is. I'm so sorry Uncle Jonathan, I should have been here. But I wasn't. And there was no excuse, I mean that he is…was my grandpa and I totally ditched him. But I'm here now, if that counts for anything."

"Son, son, please. Stop babbling. You babble when your upset, did you know that? None of this is your fault. Shit happens, we got to deal with it and move on. Ricky wouldn't have wanted you to anyways. So come on, let's go." the old man said clapping his hands.

Riley gave him a betrayed look. "Wait a minute; aren't you even upset about this?"

Jonathan sagged a little and turned back to face him. "Of course I care! The man was my brother in law and my best friend! But in the end he was happy, he'd lived a full life, and he had no regrets. Except one, that he couldn't say goodbye to you. So yes, I'm upset. But no, I'm not going to mourn him, because I know that he's happy. So let's get moving!"

"Oh," he said.

Jonathan flipped the open sign to "closed" and ushered Riley out.

"Where are we going?" Riley asked curiously.

"The bank," Uncle Jonathan replied.

Riley stopped in the middle of the sidewalk watching his retreating back. "What? Why?"