Chapter 2: Road Trip…Ready. Set. GO!

Ashley had never been on a road trip.

Ever.

Not on the countless times her rock star father had tour dates that spanned from Detroit, Michigan to some random west coast city, nor during the numerous times her mother had left with her boyfriend of the week, leaving Ashley to the care of Nana Davies. Not one time did she experience the freedom of a road trip, the aches of driving most of the day only to stay in the most roach-iest of roach motels, or the pain of deciding what drive-thru restaurant to eat from. Of course, Ashley was wealthy enough to stay in five star hotels and dine in the most superb restaurants money could buy. In fact, she really didn't have to drive—an airplane would have taken her to her destination in a matter of hours, without the hassle of impatient traffic, never ending stop lights, and a bundle of bad drivers.

But Ashley also had never spent time alone to think. Not with the three years it took to complete her Diploma at Juilliard, nor with the five years she had lived in an apartment with Nathan, Mike, and Jazz. Of course, at one point in time, she wanted to be with people at all times. It brought her mind from the past and allowed her to focus on the present. At this point in time, however, she wanted to dwell on the past, if only for a few days, and a plane ride wouldn't allow her that luxury.

When it came down to it, Ashley figured that this was as good a time as any. Still, although money was no object, she felt no need to irrationally spend money just because she had it. She was not in any way cheap—she did just purchase a new Trailblazer—but she saw what loving money too much did to her mother, and it would be a cold day in hell before Ashley turned to money for an answer. Money couldn't buy happiness, she knew all too well.

Nevertheless, when it came to roaches, she thought she could manage a five star hotel or two.

The brunette looked at the GPS system as she made her way toward New Jersey. She had been driving for a good twenty minutes, noting that it was almost a quarter to nine. She considered stopping for breakfast at a near-by McDonald's, opting to just have brunch instead. She wasn't hungry, despite having last eaten the night before.

Breakfast that morning would have been far too…'Uneasy,' Ashley thought. The distress that Nathan must've felt was far too similar to what Ashley went through eight years ago. She felt horrible, but he knew the situation. The cards that had once been placed on Ashley's table were reshuffled as she entered the next phase in her life, the phase that involved him. Ashley knew that she could love him no more than she loved Aiden or Kyla, and as much as it hurt to see him like that, she couldn't give herself to Nathan in the ways he wished. Nate had been a gentleman through it all, and although he knew that Ashley's heart belonged to another, he loved her all the same.

It was nearly eleven before Ashley decided to take an exit to the nearest restaurant in Harrisburg. She decided to dine at a little place called Earl's. It seemed to be in good working order as she pulled into the parking lot and something other than the typical fast food restaurants was a breath of fresh air to the brunette.

She entered the small dive with the expectation of entering a truck stop, but as she looked around, she knew she was very wrong. It had a bed and breakfast feel to it, cozy, and home-like. The lights were dimly lit, and earth tone patterned curtains shaded the windows. There was a bar to the right of her and booths lined the wall to the left. Four square tables sat in the middle of the room, and four chairs surrounded the tables. Most of the seats were taken and as she looked at the people, she noticed that many of them looked like they've been coming to the place for years. And as the old man behind the bar questioned her as he wiped the bar counter, she knew she was right.

"You new to town?" His voice was gruff, but strangely friendly. The man was about five foot ten and stocky, and wore a dingy white tee shirt with an apron around his waist. The top of his head was bald, but gray hair showed above his ears, and his eyes were a gentle blue.

"Yea," she answered, walking towards the bar and taking a seat. "I've been driving for a few hours and needed to take a break. I saw this place and wondered, 'Why not.'"

He nodded and placed a glass of ice water in front of her. "Where're you coming from?"

"New York," she responded, taking a sip of her ice water.

"Ah," he said, leaning on the counter, "the Big Apple."

"Yup."

"Ma' name's Earl, by the way," he said placing the towel on his shoulder and offering his hand.

"Ashley," she said as they greeted. "So you own this Diner?"

"I do now. It was actually ma' Pops' diner. When he got to old to work, he passed it down to me."

Ashley nodded. "It's a nice place—cozy. It makes you feel at home."

"Thanks. So what would ya like to eat?"

"What do you recommend?"

"Hmm…well, the steak burger has always been a favorite of the regulars, but my favorite would have to be the Paul Bunyon burger."

"And what's that?"

"Well it's a quarter pound of meat with a couple slices of bacon, onions, and whatever condiment you like between two buttered toasted slices of sourdough bread."

"Mmm…sounds great. I'll take that, with an order of fries."

"Anything to drink?"

"No, water'll do. Thanks." He wrote down the order and placed it in the window for the cook.

"It'll be a few moments—all of our food is freshly cooked."

"It's fine."

The two created small talk, speaking of a range of topics ranging from the weather to Earl's son, who would soon be taking over the diner. Ten minutes had passed before Ashley had eaten her food, which she enjoyed immensely. In fact, when she questioned about the seasoning of the burger, Earl had told her it was a secret recipe, but he would be willing to part on it if she kept it a secret. She agreed with a smile, and a few moments later, recipe placed securely in her purse, the two had eased into normal conversation.

"Can I ask you something?" Earl asked, leaning back on the counter. Ashley looked at Earl, meeting his gentle gaze with confusion of her own.

"Uh, sure."

"What are you running from?"

"What?" Ashley asked, confused.

"I mean, why are you, a beautiful young woman, traveling by yourself. You must be running from something. Believe me when I say I've been around long enough to sense when something's wrong. You can't be any older than twenty six, but I see pain in your eyes where there should be life, excitement." He paused for a second before asking again, tone still gentle. "What are you running from?"

Ashley looked away from his gaze. He was right. She was sad. She had been sad for the a little more than sixteen years. Most of the time she hid her pain, but in the last few years, she couldn't do it anymore. She was done hiding. And although she smiled and laughed as regularly as she could, it was a mere mask. She knew it, others knew it, but seldom was she questioned about it.

But he was wrong about one thing.

She looked back at him and exhaled a breath she didn't know she held. She was, once again, met with the same blue eyes; eyes that only reminded her of the purpose she was going back home in the first place.

"I'm not running from anything," she said finally. "I'm running to."