Taylor climbed back into his car and revved the engine, turned around from Lane's forest and speeded down the small, unpaved road. This needed more time. He reached in the back and grabbed the box of half eaten Twinkies that he'd picked up yesterday at a Kwikimart. Opening up the box with one hand, he started on his first. Julian jumped to the front passenger seat, begging for one. Taylor frowned and licked the creamy filling from the side of his mouth. "Not now Jules." After a half hour of driving, he found himself back in the small seaside town. He pulled into a spot by an antique store, one of several around here. He left the windows open a bit for the still whining Julian. Walking into the store was strange, it was about to close, he glanced into the various glass cases of jewelry, surrounded by old flapper clothes and ancient volumes. The place had a considerable amount of dust, he sneezed and sniffled a bit. After clearing his head of the heaviness brought on by the sneeze, he smelled the oldness of the chairs, clothes, and books. Across a wall were stands filled with china dolls, carefully painted, their dresses wide, made from fashionable, rich materials. Some were plain, white dresses and painted hair, the younger ones being more extravagant. There were war medals, college pins and rings, purses, assorted jewelry and lucky half dollars in the cases. Furniture was farther in the back, his hand brushed against an elegant dark walnut miniature table. The top was a chessboard, done in onyx and mother of pearl. Everything looked well cared for and ancient. He walked back to the cases of jewelry, some was plastic, costume stuff, but some was old engagement rings and the kind of beauty that he'd seen when his mother had gone through Grandma Lawyer's jewelry when she died. None of it looked like Lane would like it, his face tightened.

"Can I help you with something?" Taylor was startled by the voice, he hadn't seen an owner anywhere when he'd come in. The voice was warm, unrushed by the prospect of the end of the day. He looked up from the case, a middle aged woman with grey hair speckled with white smiled up at him, the smile was bright and full. She looked Native American, her tan was deep, and looked natural, she had friendly wrinkles when she smiled, making her look grandmotherly and kind. Her hair was down, braided, with a couple strands of grey straying out.

"Yes, you can." Taylor hoped he could do this right.

"Jewelry? For a man or a woman?" Taylor laughed.

"Definitely a woman."

"You never can be too sure there young man, one must be politically correct." Her black eyes sparkled as she smiled.

"I want to buy something for a girl, but I have no idea what she'd like."

"Is she from around here?"

"Yeah, I don't know.." She cut him off.

"What's her name?"

"Lane, Lane Bronte." Her smile grew wider.

"Laney, my dear bobcat. I have known her for a couple months, though I believe she and I knew each other, some different time, some different life." The woman looked out the shop to the street, her face softened. Taylor was confused, did Lane connect with everyone she knew? This was weird. "She's staying with Kris, up on the east side of town, on the bay. Beautiful land, an Indian community used to live there, lots going on there still. Hm, so what are you thinking of getting her?"

"I don't know, a ring, maybe."

"What kind? Engagement? Friendship? Lovers? The stones tell different meanings."

"I don't know what you'd uh, call us, definitely not engagement." Taylor wracked his unresponding brain, what kind?

"Do you think of her often?" Taylor smiled, that one was easy.

"Yes, very much."

"Then get a Turquoise, it will protect her."

"Does she like silver?" The woman nodded.

"She loves jewelry, a lot. A regular Stevie Nicks, she buys a lot here." Taylor began scanning the cases again, finding a large case filled with silver. His eyes wandered, a bracelet caught his eye. It was simply sanded, most of the roughness gone, a strand of turquoise pieces. Beside it was a pure silver ring, it's rectangular face was a little over a half inch long, carved out of it was an old tree, roots extended downward, and long, delicate branches stretching to the top of the ring. The trunk was thick compared to the thin branches, the band wasn't thick, but it wasn't too thin either, it connected to the rectangle in the center, blending into the face on the sides. As he stared, a hand was suddenly in the case, reaching for them, he looked up to the store owner, who had them laid out on top of the case. "I just got these in today. Yes, she would treasure them." As he paid for them, the woman introduced herself as Lisa, and wished him the best of luck. Taylor felt as if he'd need it.

I snatched a large fluffy maroon towel from the bathroom rack as I stepped out of the shower. Drying myself off and towel drying my hair, I sang loudly to The Beatles cd that Kris must've put in. I didn't feel moody enough to listen The Cure tonight, I felt as if something was going to happen. I felt like star gazing with Kris, maybe we'd rent a movie in town or something. We hadn't discussed dinner either. I put on the clothes that Kris had left out on my bed and shuffled on my old tevas, still alive after a good seven or eight years. I brushed out my wet hair, realizing that I needed another haircut, maybe it was time to take a flight into New York for a week and do some sh and see who it is."

"I already know who it is." My voice seemed weak, dry and scratchy.

The music grew louder. "Why she had to go... I don't know" Paul McCartney's voice was evident from my driveway. I stumbled towards the door, my legs feeling foreign and sick. As my hand touched the brass doorknob, the faint strains of my home stereo seemed to drift in, 'Here Comes the Sun' started. Kris smiled to me, 'Go' her face calmly said. I opened the door and stepped into the cool sea air, 'Yesterday' greeted me.