Thank you to all who have reviewed, and followed this story. This is the first story that I've actually shared with anyone so your feedback means a lot to me! To date I have written, deleted and rewritten this chapter at least 4 times. I hope that this one actually makes it to publishing. Oh yeah, just so you understand, in this story Truncheon has outgrown their original space and have relocated. Jess is living alone in the old Truncheon space.

Chapter Two,
December 24, 2015 7:34 a.m.

As expected, Rory's flight was crowded but uneventful. Upon landing, she dodged through the crowds of last minute holiday travellers, making a mental note to herself to never travel the day before a major holiday again. She found her way to the rental counter, rented her car, and wasted no time finding a coffee shop near Jess' home, the former home of Truncheon Books.

Betraying her very nature, she orders a chamomile tea, in hopes of gaining control over her nerves. It's just Jess, she reminds herself, which does nothing to calm her. Her bones actually ache for just a little bit of the confidence that she had had on the ride to the airport earlier that morning.

Sitting at the bar seat, gazing out the window at the rain soaked streets of the city that he now called home, she wondered if Jess was awake. She wondered how mad he would be if she woke him. She had been in such a hurry to see him that she booked the earliest flight possible, forgetting that Jess was not a morning person.

She sat, sipping the tea for at least an hour before she decided to make the short walk from the coffee shop to his front door. She stopped by her car, fed the parking meter, and grabbed her messenger bag from the front seat. The walk was less than a quarter mile. She could see the front stoop from outside the coffee shop, but it did nothing to hasten her walk. Gazing into the windows as she approached, she searched for any sign of life from within. There were no lights on, no noises emanating from inside, so she decided to sit on his stoop for a while before ringing the bell.

December 24, 2015, 9:34 a.m.

The phone rang, waking him from yet another dream-less night of sleep. Great! Here comes the obligatory birthday call from Liz. He sits up in bed and buries his head in his hands before picking up on the last ring.

"Hello?" He answered, as if he didn't already know who was calling.

"Happy Birthday, my sweet boy." He shook his head, already knowing exactly how the conversation would go. "Do you have any big plans today? Spending time with anyone I should know about?"

"Nope." He found that it was easier to answer her in as few syllables as possible, knowing that it would not stop her probing line of questioning.

"I sure do wish that you could make it home for Christmas. You wouldn't believe what T.J. has done with the house." He winced, allowing his imagination to take over. "Doula misses her big brother. Oh, and speaking of big brothers, my big brother would love to see you too. He's so proud of you. We all are."

"You know how it is. I'm very busy."

"Promise me something? Promise me that you'll do something, even if it's something small, to celebrate today."

"I will." He promised, having no intention of getting out of bed, much less leaving the house. "Maybe I'll run the steps at the Museum of Art."

"Oh, good. I'm so glad you're taking such good care of yourself. Have fun, and be careful. I love you, Jess." His sarcasm was completely lost on his mother.

"Gotta go. Someone's at the door. Talk to you soon." He ended the call before she could say another word, and flopped back down in his bed. He laid there for another few minutes, wondering if anyone would miss him if he just slept the day away, when his phone buzzed notification of a new text message.

"Good morning. Are you awake?" He smiled, having hoped to hear from her again today.

"I am now." He typed, not wanting to show how happy he was to hear from her again. "Twice in one day? To what do I owe this honor?"

"I just wondered if you'd received the gift I sent you." Seconds after the message appeared on the screen, the doorbell rang.

"You shouldn't have. Hold on...Someone's at the door. Maybe your gift? Standby..."

"Be right there." He shouts as he jumps out of the bed, runs his fingers through his messy hair, and runs down the stairs.

"I'm coming." He yells as the doorbell chimes again.

He fumbles with the locks before pulling the door open. "Happy Birthday, Jess."

He stands there for a moment, absolutely speechless. "You're here? I mean, you're really here!"

"Well, you did say I could visit any time. I can go if it's not a good time." She teases.

"Don't you dare. Come in, get in here." He takes a step back, allowing her to slip past him through the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a new job. Professional front stoop stalker."

"Huh. Still got a sense of humor after all these years."

"Yeah. I love what you've done with the place." She makes her way into the center of the room, and turns to face him.

"It's been a while since you've seen it. You know that Truncheon moved, right? You got the postcard?" He asks, as he closes the gap between them.

"I did. Actually besides wanting to tell you Happy Birthday, I wanted to show you something."

She props her messenger bag up on the nearby counter, and pulls out a stack of papers secured with a large binder clip. She hands it to him.

"Curse the Stars...a novel by R. Gilmore." He reads the first page aloud, before thumbing through the rest of the pages. "Is this what I think it is? You wrote a book?"

"I'm not so sure about the title."

"You wrote a book? When did you have time? I mean, The Times keeps you pretty busy. I've seen your work."

"I've been working on it for a couple years, just writing when I have some downtime. You'd be surprised how much downtime you have when you don't really leave your apartment." She joked.

"Wish I could say I don't understand that." He answered, without looking away from the pages in his hand.

"Are you really going to read that now? With me standing right here? At least, let me leave before you..."

He sits the pages down on the counter and crosses to the center of the room, stopping about a foot away from her. "If you don't want me to read it while you're here, I won't. Don't leave. Don't even joke about leaving."

A/N - I feel like I could write another thousand words in this chapter, but I guess I have to cut it off somewhere. Hope I didn't lose you. I know it's much longer than Ch 1. If you like what you're reading, or if not, won't you take a second to leave some feedback. It will help to shape that becomes of this story. Thanks in advance!