Author's Note: In the summer of 2013, I was on a road trip along the less touristic parts of Europe. This story was inspired by long highway roads and the solitary rest stops along these routes. Hours of driving across barren pastures; some with vegetation, some with wilderness, all mesmerized me. Upon returning from my road trip, I started this story, wrote a considerable half of it but failed to complete it and over the years the story was abandoned.

This year, I have made it my resolution to finish my unfinished stories. I wanted a sense of closure for all my unfinished jottings. I hope that I did justice to what I had originally intended to write.

I am not sure if this story appeals, but just feel free to let me know. I will try to improve my craft and carry on writing to my heart's content.

With lots of appreciation,

*.* Lily

*****

The Solitary Road Leads to You
Before the long road, the full moon beckons
Poppy fields are burning bright
I think of the wondrous universe
Horizons without end
The lush depths of your eyes
Everything pales when I close my eyes
Then how do I not love you?

From the jottings of Tessa Bauer
I grew up in a small town called Thor. Nowadays it reminds people of the Nordic god wielding the hammer with the same name, thanks to the Hollywood revival of the Marvel comics. During my childhood though, the town was just as ordinary as it could get. It was primarily an agricultural community. The historical town centre itself was a small, sleepy hollow where a medieval church formed the main focal point of its quaint town square.

Now we get tourists from the United States taking photos with the small signpost welcoming visitors to our town. Sometimes they wield their own hammer and jack up our signpost as well. This has been an ongoing nuisance for the locals who see no humour in it.

I used to dislike tourists because they tend to clog up the narrow road leading to town. My English was not very good, so when I replied to questions from tourists, they did not understand me and this made me feel like an idiot. They came mostly in summer, so luckily for the rest of the year, I got to rest in peace; or rather, relax in peace as this town could be very quiet. Yet this was exactly what I liked about it, being the very reason why I never ventured out of Thor.

My childhood friends said that Thor confined me, but no, it is rather I who revelled in it. I felt secured and cocooned under its consistent regularity of a lifestyle. If I wanted some sort of excitement, I would take the hour long highway drive across Route 61 to Bad Holburg, which was the adjoining spa town, famous since the 1800s for its healing salt caves. In recent years though, the number of tourists have dwindled due to the rise of alternative health therapies.

I was a quiet child, painfully so. Thinking back, I would not say that I had a particularly happy childhood, but as a child, these thoughts do not come to mind. I did not know any better. Ignorance was indeed bliss. I believe that it was only due to the influx of contemporary self-help culture which made people question life so much.

Reading those self-help books, I now find that I was probably underage labour when I was young, and that I grew up in a dysfunctional and emotionally distant family. I could grow up all wrong in so many ways, according to these books which were supposed to make you feel better. For a long while, they did not. Instead I became melancholic. I have since risen above the need for self-improvement. Here I stand today - self-sufficient and rational. And I like to think that I function pretty well as a human being.

Of course, who am I to judge myself? I was not well-read except for a reading outburst during my late teenage years when I dwelled deeply into the meaning of life and got so perturbed over it because I could not decide what life was all about precisely. So now, twenty years older and wiser, I shall stick to what I do know about my life here and expand in my own little universe. I kind of like this saying. I could take my time, or I could take forever. I answered to no one except myself.

The earliest recollection of my youth were the poppy fields close to Thor where the striking blood-red hue of its blossoms stood out miles away even during the brightest of days. The poppies grew in abandon; they looked so beautiful with their fragile petals swaying in the ravenous wind. The vigour of the wind devoured the barren pastures here with no great barriers along the way. Except for the poppies. I did not know if they swayed against the force of the wind or if they bended at will to its pull. But they were always there, and after every rainfall, they looked more vivid and brighter than ever. They survived no matter what. As a child, this view gave me the impression that they were flowers of courage. As if flowers could be courageous. I smile at this thought now.

Once, when I was playing alone in the poppy fields, I gave an old farmer who was passing by from the adjoining field the shock of his life. Thinking back, it must have been a miracle that he did not drop dead from a heart attack.

"Goodness, I thought that the poppies were alive and kicking!" He stammered, still reeling from the shock of perceived runaway poppies.

The child that I was stared at him, astounded.

"What a strange creature you are!" He said, calming down but still finding it necessary to say something which alternated between awe and annoyance.

"Goodness, I've never seen such hair! As red and as wild as the poppies." He said now, looking at me as if I was a curiosity object from the antiquities museum.

My wide-eyed childhood innocence must have melted his heart somehow.

"It's getting dark. Now, little imp, be off with you if you know what's good for you." He said.

I scampered away, never once turning back until I had reached home and closed the bedroom door behind me.

My wavy, red hair was the wildest part of me. It encompassed the whole wilderness my life lacked. My hair was always kept long. Initially it was because my mother found my thick locks a nuisance to handle. We never went to the hairdresser as my mother took it upon herself to cut and trim our hair. In my teenage years, I grew to treasure my hair because I became rebellious; not to mention that poppies were my favourite flowers. Not the sunflower, nor the lavender which also grew in this region yet significantly non-existent along the wilderness of Route 61.

My parents were farmers. No, that was not why I did not have a happy childhood. Rather it was because they often argued. In fact throughout their life they seemed to detest being together but stayed put anyhow for want of better choice. They simply tolerated each other but I was apt to think that they did love me in their own way although never once did they praise me. What I did or did not do was never right. It was either too much or too little; or I was either too fast or too slow. So from a young age, I learnt that I had to be very precise in everything I did. The way I did things mattered; the minutes mattered right up to the seconds.

My parents farmed a piece of land for a company. They were hard-working and had a work ethic which I have continued till today, minus the land. They would have been pleased with this aspect of my life, to say the least. My parents grew corn and I would be helping them in the cornfields almost daily. This was already the time of technology, but because the farm we had was small, we did the planting and harvesting by hand.

My parents felt that labour should not change from the ways of their forefathers and they wanted to honour these traditional practices. So they toiled the earth the whole day, barely having time for other undertakings. Hobbies or social activities never crossed their mind. Sometimes I think that deep down they did not know what to do should the work on the field be taken over by modern machinery. They did not have any known interests. They complained all the time but take that out, they had nothing to talk about. Complaining was a way to make mundane life interesting. When they did have time in between planting and harvesting, they stayed home and stared into space. This was the time they became most irritable, and this was the time I ventured out alone to the poppy fields more often than ever to play.

Yet, things did change. The government wanted to buy the piece of land from the company to build a highway connecting our town of Thor and the spa town of Bad Holburg which was 120 kilometres away. Our farm was situated right in the middle of this project. The company was initially reluctant to sell as the price offered was too low. Eventually the government acquired the land through compulsory acquisition.

These series of events left my parents devastated. They were merely employees of the company. They thought fondly of the company as the company had not wanted to sell. After receiving a generous payout, they were informed that they could seek opportunities at the upcoming highway rest stop called Route 61, about ten kilometres from where we lived. They were told that a restaurant, gas station and perhaps a motel will be built there, depending on traffic flow.

It seemed the most sensible thing to do. So we left and that was how my parents started to work at the Route 61 Restaurant. You see me here today, at this restaurant, now serving mostly truckers and the occasional family. Over the years, my parents, being the hard workers they were, saved enough money to put forward a substantial offer to purchase the restaurant from its previous owner. Upon their demise, I have been managing the restaurant fulltime.

There was to be no motel as traffic never really picked up that much and tourists would rather drive straight to Bad Holburg than stay overnight here in the middle of nowhere. Only the restaurant and the self-service gas station remained for good.

I did expect to inherit the restaurant, as I was their only child and I worked here since I was tall enough to wash dishes at the sink. I was not studious nor adventurous enough to do anything else, so it was a reasonable arrangement. My parents never had great dreams for me either. From mingling with customers at an early age, I was now no longer shy yet I was still reserved and generally quiet, apart from small talk with the regular truckers.

A lot of my childhood friends have since moved on to bigger towns and started families. Many have travelled the world. It was not, however, for me. I was content as I could be near and literally at the place of my childhood. I never wanted to leave.

I enjoyed my solitary lifestyle with precise regularity. Everything went on like clockwork. I woke up at 5.00 am sharp and had breakfast by 6.00 am. I was irritated even when I woke up five minutes later. By 7.00 am I would be at the restaurant and I left the restaurant between 10.00 pm to midnight sharp. This was the only time frame in my life which was uncertain, and this had nothing to do with me. I was always punctual and despised surprises, because they gave me a dreaded feeling in my heart. There was no safety net there. I wanted to plan in advance about everything which could go wrong.

Dear reader, the one big irregularity in my life between 10.00 pm and midnight was the closing time of my own restaurant. This was because I felt responsible to let everyone who wants to have a meal to basically come in, enjoy and eat. I knew a thing or two about truckers especially. They drove nearly the whole day and when they arrive, they want a nice hearty meal. I cannot turn down a late trucker. This was my one weakness. Because these itinerant truckers came in at all odd hours, I felt compelled to keep my restaurant open until the whole place was finally devoid of customers before I could call it a day.

In the past, I had dated a few. Some were really nice men. However the relationships never worked out. The initial spark I found with them always fizzled out. I never felt like I found the right man for me. Although I accepted them as they were with all their flaws and imperfections, I did not feel that I could give myself in completely to them. I was still put on guard against something which could go wrong. Maybe I could not trust enough or maybe there was no such thing as the one.

Year in and year out. Finally, the age of youth passed me by. I became increasingly solitary and was alone, as I had been for the past six years. At the age of forty-four, I was already resigned to a life of spinsterhood. It was a tolerable lifestyle and I could have done much worse.

It was always the uncertainty in life which brought along trouble. The two hours gap I had for closing time was to change my life completely, in ways I could not have imagined.

Being one of the few women working at the Route 61 highway stop, I received quite a fair share of attention from the local truckers and over the years friendship had blossomed. I knew my regulars and felt blessed with the friendship I had with them.

My contentment was broken one day when this new trucker came into my life. He was a wanderer of sorts and had worked with different transport companies. He was fickle-minded and changed jobs as often as he did his socks. He regularly drove through Route 61 and soon became friends with the other regulars there. He was one of those young men sorting things out. I gathered that he must have just finished his studies and was out for an adventure.

He always seemed to know what to say to the people whom he wanted to talk to, and the ease of conversation always came flowing naturally to him. He had the gift of the gab but was selective in who he wanted to converse with. He never bothered about me. He never once so much glanced in my direction except when he wanted to order something.

His name was Stefan. He had a boyish charm about him but his eyes were quite soulful, which was an odd mix. He was tall and broad; his voice was a deep baritone. His blond hair became golden curls in the sunlight. He was very flirtatious and liked to tease the opposite sex. He ogled the rare young woman who walked in alone and tried his luck in exchanging phone numbers. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it did not. Once I think he had a very intimate encounter with one in his truck. Not that I was prying. The other truckers were whispering about the adventure off the beaten track, as they called it. I was serving the gang dinner then. Ernst and Friedrich were closer trucker friends I had, and normally they told me stories about their travels and misadventures. I would think sexual conquests were personal, but to them, this was a bragging right for their trucker team. Both did not have long-term partners. The hazards of the job, they told me.

Stefan never teased me nor glanced in my direction directly. I was just there to serve him his favourite fried cod with fries, minus the salad. Personally I thought that he could have eaten more vegetables for his own good. Indeed, there are times when one was grateful to be past that age of teasing. I preferred to always be in the background cooking up a storm of a meal and serving my patrons. I wondered had I not been the age I was, would he had paid me even the slightest bit of attention or if my red hair would have put him off. I kept it long at waist-length because I was so used to it now that I could not imagine myself otherwise. My hair became a shawl for me whenever I needed it. It became good for weather protection, especially on cold nights. If I felt uncomfortable, I would just let my hair naturally fall forward until it covered my cheeks. I could partially hide my eyes as well as my facial expression like that. So as you can see, these are the advantages of keeping my hair long.

Yet, if I were true to myself, I have to let you know that in the innermost refuge of my heart, the status of the poppies have been elevated to almost a kind of mysticism. The old farmer's words never left me. Just as the poppies survived the ravenous wind, whether by swaying of their own volition or resisting all the way till they surrendered completely to the forces of nature, I thought almost fervent-like about a life where desire and passion mingled; and where against all odds I surrendered completely to this sensation which will envelop my entire being. Then I knew that this was meant to be. The poppies gave me a glimpse into a parallel life which never could have been. Yet every time I drove past the poppy fields, I saw flaming desire and passion- these abstract qualities which the naked eye could not see; and they give me reassurance and faith for the day. And it makes me smile the most genuine of smiles. It was my little secret.

Stefan always ordered the same dish for dinner whenever he was here. On that particular moonlit night, there were only two customers in the restaurant. I had allowed Lena to leave earlier because she said that she had a date. It was just an hour before midnight. Stefan was one of them and the other was a woman who corresponded to his age, I would think. She had rather huge eyes and sun-kissed skin which contrasted with how petite she was. She had a stunning hour glass figure. Men would have liked that, I thought.

Sleuthing from the corner of my eyes, I observed Stefan as he took a long glance at her. If I had found her attractive, she certainly must have caught his roving eyes too. Yet I had least expected what he would do next. With a sudden and unexpected velocity, his eyes darted into my direction. They lunged deep into me. It felt as though he knew that I was prying on him all along. I was caught off-guard and automatically I swished my wild, unruly hair to let it obscure part of my face by turning to my side in the pretext of working on the cash register. I had never been more grateful to my hair until now.

I did fiddle aimlessly with the cash register by stacking and rearranging notes in and out of their respective compartments. When I finally had the courage; or rather sense, to look up, in the nick of time I caught Stefan as he gazed in her direction again. The woman was alone and she did not have a ring on her finger. I observed as Stefan glided suavely to her table and asked if he may dine with her because he was feeling lonely. Perhaps it was not that he spoke loudly but rather it was a quiet night, and the restaurant emanated a still-like meditative quality of silence.

I could hear his words clearly and the gallant manner he had spoken to her was akin to a knight in shining armour. I heard her sweetly reply that she was sorry to hear he was lonely. She courteously welcomed him to her table and they did dine together. The moment he sat opposite her, they spoke in softer tones. I could not catch their conversation anymore but I did cast furtive looks from the counter now and then to observe them.

Both appeared to be at ease with each other and finally after the last drop of drink, Stefan took his leave from her. He walked to the counter to where I was and wanted to pay for his newly-found companion. He looked straight into my eyes. This time I had no excuse to swish my unruly hair to provide any sort of concealment. I had to reciprocate his gaze. It was only good customer service. Since Lena, my assistant, lacked that courteousness, I had to be the saving grace of the restaurant. Yet I shuddered as I looked into his eyes. They seemed ethereal. All this while, I had known that there was something about him which made him stand out amongst other men, but I could not quite pinpoint what it was. Strangely my mind fleeted to the poppy fields. He was all of those striking wilderness in the otherwise barren fields. He nonchalantly stood out. Yes, simply ethereal.

I could not take my gaze off his eyes now. They arrogantly pierced into mine. The lush blue within seemed to spiral without end; lunging me into its vortex and enticing me further into the man that he was. The eyes were the window to the soul; was it not right? So much depth in so young a man.
He barked out, "How much for the both of us?"

I hit the ground rock bottom immediately upon hearing that deep voice of his. He had never spoken kindly to me. He had only ever barked out at me as if civil conversation with a waitress / manager / Miss Do it All at the restaurant was an alien concept to him. I wondered if he did regard me inferior.

I told him the amount and he took out some notes from his pocket. Money exchanged hands with me being cautious about not touching his hands. Despite all my conscious efforts of no contact, just as I was handing him the change, he clenched my fingers together. I jolted at the abruptness of his action, wondering what came over him. The intoxicating warmth of his palms did not help ease my heightened state of emotions. Instead I felt terribly unearthed by him because at some primordial level, I felt an affinity to his touch. It was so soothing and warm, almost like a...

"Heater." I said.

The words spoke themselves out before I could even think.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked.

At least the question had not an ounce of his usual bark. He was instead intrigued by my wanton precision of the word.

"I mean..." I paused before continuing, "I just realised that it is getting a little draughty and cold inside...and I really should set the temperature a few degrees higher." I said, all in one go and feeling terribly flustered.

Either the warmth of his palms had diverted my attention or I did indeed feel the chill. Either way I had better adjust the thermostat to provide me with all the warmth I needed. Nothing a good, reliable, old heater could not do. I could not possibly want nor need...

His palms still held my fingers in that warm clench. Did he not realize that he had my hands in his?

"I'm far from cold, but I'm not the right person to ask. I was always much too warm, even as a child." He said, looking at me in all due seriousness. His voice seemed quite civil now.

Our gazes locked once again. His eyes softened on mine.

And there was the bark surfacing again. "Please keep the change. It was a good meal."

It was only then he released his clench on my fingers. I had forgotten all about the change in my clasp; the notes were crumpled to bits now.

I had made much ado about nothing!

It took me some time to correspond the tone of his voice to the fact that he had enjoyed the meal I cooked, however much he sounded like a disgruntled customer.

When I was sorting out my delayed reaction, he felt compelled to speak, albeit rudely. However his words far from indicated displeasure.

"Thank you. I will come again." From a bark, he went to a grunt of sorts.

He did not look like he wanted to come again. In fact, he looked like he was annoyed at me and I was probably the last person he wanted to see on this planet alive.

"I would appreciate that." I said, in a soft voice.

My feelings were still heightened and even though he had let go of me, my fingers still felt the lingering pressure of his warmth.

"Will you..." He began somewhat tersely, but paused, as if uncertain.

I waited with bated breath as he tried to say whatever it was he wanted to say to me. The lushness of blue in his eyes contained an inexplicable intention. Although he breathed in deeply, he seemed a little unsteady, which was unlike him.

"What is it?" I asked, waiting in trepidation as my beating heart pounded in my eardrums.

I let him gaze into my eyes without any inhibition on my part. He had always barked out at me without thought and I wondered what was stopping him this time.

"Will you please adjust the thermostat now before it gets too cold for you? Your hands are like ice." He said. His words cut into me and were deliberately rough.

He was alright. There was nothing wrong with him. No cause for concern.

I looked at him blankly. Then I rushed and adjusted the thermostat which was at the left corner of the dining area, a few metres away from him. Barely a minute later, when I turned to face him again, I saw that he had inconspicuously left. All that was left of him was a tall, sturdy frame in the semi-darkness of the almost empty parking space outside.

I gathered that he did not take to the heat kindly. It must be the only rational explanation for leaving in a huff like that but then I felt a sinking sensation in my chest when I realised that it was me that he did not take kindly to.

Your hands are like ice, he said. Well, I could not help it if they were. At least I was not the sizzling volcano that he was. I was cool, level-headed and calm; not hot-headed, irrational and ruffled like all that bloody masculinity of a man!

My defensive mode against him stopped dead on its tracks when his lovely female companion who was still seated at the table, gave a little cough. She smiled at me. Clearly she had watched the exchange between the both of us.

"Interesting man you've got there but difficult to figure out, don't you think?" She said.

"Well, you probably know him better than I do." I said, as I made my way towards her table.

With the smile of a sphinx, she said "He is very enthusiastic about what he wants and I hope that he gets what he wants."

"What does he want indeed?" I asked, since the question seemed to naturally flow from her statement.

I had proceeded to clear his spiky-clean plate and cup which was opposite her. At least he did finish up everything. He had always finished up everything. Young men had big appetites.

"It's a small town. I have no doubt that you'll be the first to know. Your restaurant is the place to be for everyone around here." She said.

I smiled wryly. I did not agree with her one bit about me being the first to know. I would be the last woman on earth and he would still be barking and grunting at me.

I had an inkling that it was a private conversation and that she did not want to divulge any bits of it at all, except that he was an ambitious young man with dreams to chase. Was that not common in the age of youth? Twenty years down the line, we mellow down because reality sinks in, and then finally the dreams are buried. They only left a bitter aftertaste. In old age, I shall not question my youth.

I shook my head.

"This is not the place to chase your dreams. Many youngsters have already left Thor. The main town in this region is Bad Holburg but jobs are limited to the tourism industry. It's a shrinking region." I said.

"Not everyone leaves." She said, speaking as a matter of fact. "Like you." She continued.

I eyed her with more than cursory interest. It was an instantaneous reaction to think that everyone pitied me for staying put because most of my childhood friends did.

"I was never adventurous, didn't study beyond high school and I did inherit this restaurant from my parents. All incentives for me to stay." I said.

It was strange that I could sum up my whole life story in one sentence for her. It occurred to me then that my life was that simple. Was it not what I wanted? Yes, it was, yet in the ungodly hours of the night when sleep evaded me, I did yearn for a little more in life. In my dreams, I was in the poppy fields; its flowers surrounding me as a dark silhouette of a man walks towards me. The poppies keep on swaying, forming a dizzying enclave as if beckoning us nearer, but before he could reach me, I wake up in cold sweat. I always do because such dreams like these make no sense and are not good for the wandering mind.

"Did he not ask you out?" I asked now, trying to change the subject, because I was done talking about my life story.

She was his type of woman- sweet, dewy-faced and beautiful.

"Me? Oh, you've got it all wrong. I am not interested in him. Anyway, he told me he had someone else in mind. She is a real knockout; way out of his league." She replied.

She stood up then and eyed me from head to toe.

I wondered if there was something wrong with the way I dressed.

"It's about time I hit the road again. Thank you for opening up this late." She said.

"You're the last for the day. Do drive carefully and I wish you a safe journey." I said.

"Who knows, I might be back here after my road trip. If we do meet again, perhaps things will be different for you." She said.

I shook my head.

"Things are always the same here. It has been so for the past twenty-four years." I said in true pride and confidence.

She merely smiled. She fiddled with a bluish-white heart-shaped pendant on her neck. It appeared to be a stone of some sort.

"So are you going to Bad Holburg for the salt caves?" I asked.

"Yes, now that you have mentioned it as something worthy to visit. I am basically driving off the beaten track without fixed plans. A rebel without a cause." She said.

Her lips curled up into a smile again, but this time she seemed a little sad.

"Perhaps you have not found your cause. When the time comes, you'll know. There is a time and place for everything." I said.

I thought of 9.3 minutes. The cause of my life was precision. It brought me home to the core of my existence. I lived for precision. A mental image of scrumptious fried cod came into my mind.

Do not get me wrong or think that I was hard to get along with- that was far from true. I was just very specific and a perfectionist, only when it came to me. My joy of the day is when I can successfully prepare any given meal at exactly a specific time frame. The fried cod by the way, can be prepared in exactly 9.3 minutes. I try to aim for that. I have a time sheet wherein I tick how many times a day I can prepare the fried cod in the specific time.

Although there was a long silence which followed, the lone stranger looked at me in acknowledgement.

"What you said gave me some insight. You're wise." She said.

I shrugged it off.

"I only know I'm wise when my fried cod turns up perfectly golden brown." I said, with a genuine smile.

We both laughed.

Her face lightened up and she said, "And let us do believe a little in the magic of the universe."

She told me about her heart-shaped pendant, implying to me in not so many words that it was a moonstone with magical qualities. Hold it tight and make a wish under the full moon, and your wish shall come true. I uttered the usual "ohs" and "ahs" when she spoke to me, pretending to really believe her.

I held her moonstone in my palms. Moonlight and starlight, may I have my wish tonight? My thoughts landed right into an unwelcomed image of Stefan; of his eyes; his palms; his voice and the words which did not correspond to the harshness of his behaviour. I shook my head in annoyance at such detail. Feeling that there should be something greater than life itself besides inconsequential details of Stefan, I did make a wish.

I wished for love and nothing more; nothing less. I wished for a love where I would feel safe and be accepted despite all my flaws and imperfections. I wished for a love where its warmth would flow and engulf my entire being into a passionate frenzy for life. I pleaded with the moon for a sign; and to bring forth that love to me.

Then I handed the moonstone back to her. I thought that she was a little nuts but interesting enough. Maybe because she was kind of bonkers, Stefan decided not ask her out and made up a story about having another. As far as I knew, he had no steady girlfriend so concocting someone out of his league would be the perfect excuse.

After she left, I called it a day and proceeded to close up the restaurant. When I was walking towards my car, I glanced upwards at the full moon. She grazed earth gently with her bright light and I took it all in with a deep breath.

...

My one and only assistant, Lena, does not cook. I only let her wash the dishes, clean the table, prepare drinks, serve customers and manage the cash register. Lena really is quite satisfied with this arrangement, for she loathes cooking. When she first came to me, I asked her why she even bothered working in a restaurant if the idea of cooking repelled her. She said it was the tantalizing aroma of the food which attracted her, and she told me this - the aroma from your restaurant. She grew up frequenting the restaurant when she was a child and the aroma of the food here really got into her. She came often with her parents who worked night-shifts at a spa resort in Bad Holburg. Now she is twenty-five years old and has been with me for six whole years.

One thing about Lena is that she is not curious. She notices my time sheet hanging on a clipboard on the wall but she never questions. I guess it must have occurred to her now and then why certain orders deserve a tick while others do not. I am a bit shy with my interest in precision; which is why I omit to explain the existence of the sheet to her.

She is also impatient and unpredictable; virtues which perhaps limited her job opportunities. There are times when she would sulk and leave early without telling me why and also moments when she told customers to hurry up with their food because she wanted to start clearing up. Yet sometimes I see Lena as the younger version of myself. It could be due to the fact that she chose to stay in Thor instead of seeking greener pastures elsewhere.

We have an easy-going work relationship. I give her a lot of freedom as to how she manages her workload. Most of the time, she is a pleasant companion. We chat freely and I learn from her that for the past month she has been dating a guy called Klaus from Bad Holburg. He was a tourist bus driver ferrying tourists to different sights and sounds around the region. That was how they met- here in the restaurant.

One evening at an odd hour, there was no one at the restaurant except Stefan, Lena and I. She was in the kitchen washing up. Earlier on, Lena had attended to him while I cooked in the kitchen. I kept quiet as I usually did with him except for a brief moment of eye contact when I approached his table to clear up.

"Hey there, I have never known your name until now. I mean, like, I've got to know your name. I've been frequenting here for months now and I'm not an inch closer." He said, in a gruff voice but I did detect a softening at the edges for once.

However he was staring more at the wall clock behind me than at me. He had not bothered to look at me, not since that night two weeks ago when he paid for both the lovely woman and himself. He had frequented the restaurant a few times since then, but he appeared oblivious to my presence.

Not looking at me is fine, for many customers do not look me in the face. They look at the menu more, pointing at their chosen dish. When they pay, they look at the money. I was like a machine sometimes. Good for precision and accuracy. I could do mental calculations in my head very well now.

I looked downwards in his direction, a little surprised that he should want to talk to me apart from barking orders of his favourite dish, which was the standard fried cod with potatoes, no salad. He must have been really bored tonight.

"Tessa." I said, trying to give him a friendly smile but the smile would not come because I was thinking of how rude he had been.

Without meaning to, we both stared hard at each other. A sudden jolt of electricity zapped through my body. For a second, I fumbled with his plate and nearly dropped it on the floor had it not been for his quick motor neuron skills. He caught the plate midway between table and floor. He was in possession of acute precision, to say the least.

"Here you are." He said, passing me the plate.

I grabbed the plate quickly without looking at him. I mumbled an incoherent thank you.

"Tessa." He said in a low voice.

It was the first time he said my name. My eyes darted to him for a second, and I nodded at him before focusing my attention on clearing the table again. I must have been much too overworked to have dropped the plate like that. Therefore I should only concentrate on my task.

However I thought it rather impertinent that I should not want to enquire his name. I had already known his name, but then, to be polite, I asked. Was there not an age-old adage that people love hearing their own names?

"And you are...?" I asked.

I made sure that I placed the plate on the table, just in case I were to fumble again. I never make the same mistake twice. Once bitten, ten times shy, in my case.

"Stefan." He replied, in a deep voice.

The lush, unfathomable blue in his eyes seemed to pull me in. I blinked a few times to get a grasp on reality.

"Stefan." I repeated.

Thereafter I looked down at the table again, proceeding to clear his cutlery and drink.

"I transport livestock at the moment. Chickens. They're calmer at night so I have to make the journey at ungodly hours." He said.

"I understand." I said in reply.

"Quiet night, eh?" He remarked.

He sounded like he was complaining that it was a quiet night. His fellow truckers were nowhere to be seen tonight. I regretted that they could not give him the stimulating conversation he so craved.

I nodded, looking at his face somewhere at the spaces between his eyes. I always looked at customers when they talked to me. My parents told me that this was their golden rule for hospitality.

His gaze was plastered at the wall clock behind me. I wondered if he was bidding his time to leave.

"The fried cod is really fresh and the spices go very well together." He said.

He made a conscious effort to look at me now. I realized that this was the first time that he was attempting to speak to me civilly and it was all about the cod.

The words sounded like they were spat out but he was complimenting the fish at least; and me, indirectly.

"Thank you, Stefan. To be perfectly fried in the cast-iron skillet, it takes precisely 9.3 minutes. Not more, not less." I said.

"9.3 minutes? Right up to the seconds?" He asked after me.

I nodded. I did not mention that this was one of my guilty pleasures. I love counting right up to the seconds. I had experimented with the timing before and nine minutes plus the decimal points of three seconds made all the difference for the perfect cod fillet.

"It's almost unbelievable that you are able to achieve such a feat." He said.

This time the lush blue in his eyes were on me, and for a split-second, I was mesmerized all over again by how ethereal his eyes were. It was like the worlds beyond thrived on Earth, and gosh, what an old soul he was with those eyes.

"I have a clock in the kitchen which tells me how long I have to fry it. Otherwise I can also use the timer on my cell phone." I said.

I could not help a smile. The truth was I needed no clock nor timer. I knew exactly how long 9.3 minutes were. My biological clock responded to 9.3 minutes.

"You're smiling." He said suddenly.

His statement caught me off-guard and I blushed like a giddy schoolgirl.

"I..." I started, but I did not want to divulge into the extent of my precision. He had already thought me strange enough.

He waited patiently for my answer. When there was none, he proceeded to speak again.

"I would have liked to be more aware of time just as it comes naturally to you. It seems to me that I have wasted a lot of time around here. I've not done what I set out to do." He said.

I suspected that he was speaking more to himself than to me. It was a spoken aloud inner thought.

"I'm sorry that your friends are not here today to keep you company. They were here yesterday and I guess today they are making their way across the border." I said, in a quiet voice.

His eyes widened as they pierced into mine. I looked at him in curiosity.

"You misunderstand me. I meant to say that generally in my life, I have been fooling around. I do not want to be that person anymore, and who should I learn from to better manage myself than from the expert herself?" He said.
It was a compliment to me. It has got to be. It seemed like he was opening up to me now. I felt mixed emotions in me. Did I seem like I had all the answers or was it because technically I was old enough to be his mother? I was not sure exactly how old he was but I think he could not have been more than his mid-twenties.

"I'm not sure what I can teach you except that doing something with precision comes with discipline and hard work." I said.

He nodded vigorously.

"That's a start." He said, with a boyish wink in his eyes.

My heart fluttered, as if it had gained wings to fly.

"You own this place, don't you?" He asked.

"Yes, this restaurant is mine." I said, trying not to get too cheerful because I felt light.

We faced each other now but there was a long silence. Except for that short spur of attention towards me, it seemed like he was not interested in me as he stopped looking at me directly again. His gaze went all over the restaurant. It took enormous effort to avoid someone like that. As you can anticipate, I was not good for small talk and Stefan was only good for barking out orders and flirting. He did not consider me worthy of his flirts.

"So..." He started somewhat.

I sensed that he did not know what to say to me.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the fried cod. I'll send your compliments to the chef." I said.

I tried not to smile as I gave myself a huge compliment. Then I smiled my standard customer service smile, and was about to head back to the kitchen when he abruptly spoke.

"But aren't you the chef?" He drawled out his words, taking his time.

Caught in my own prank, colour rose to my cheeks. I was naturally pale so I sought to cover my cheeks by swaying my tousled hair in front of me by slightly bending down.

"Yes." I gulped.

"That's nothing to be shy about. A chef who not only cooks up a feast but one who looks as enchanting as you deserves at least a little attention." He said.

He rose from his seat and in two huge strides he faced me.

His expression was unreadable. Those piercing eyes zapped into mine.

"I am flattered, really." I said.

"So I did it would seem, judging by the blush on your cheeks." He said.

I was sure my cheeks reddened even more. He had been very perceptive. My hair had not concealed my cheeks enough.

"What beautiful, luscious red hair you have, Tessa." He said, his voice low.

There was a tinge of huskiness in the way he spoke and it confused me. He was only inches away from me. His hands reached out to touch my wavy locks. He glided both his hands from the length of my hair at my ears right up to the longest strands at my waist. It was an indescribable sensation of hair being caressed. I swallowed hard as his deft hands, ever so gently repeated the motion with the hair on the other side of my shoulders. My feet were practically glued to the ground.

He brought locks of my tousled hair to face. As his face sank into my hair, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

I forgot to breathe.

"Smells so good too, like dewy roses at dawn." He said, almost in a whisper.

I could only look at him, with eyes widening more every second. I was not averse to compliments by men, but this one felt different.

"It's the shampoo; not my hair." I said, in a hushed voice.

He must have noticed how jittery I was but he took pleasure over the effect he had over me. I could not have fought him more at this point. There was a hint of knowing slyness in his eyes.

"It's not the shampoo. It's you, Tessa. You have a sweet scent about you. Not just in your hair; it's in every inch of your exquisite body." He whispered.

His voice was really husky now, and I could almost swear that I jumped out of my skin. This was getting too far. It felt wrong. He was toying with me.

"I know you are flirting with me, Stefan." I said, trying to pull myself together before I started to crumble in his presence just because I felt the effect of a man's touch.

There was a first time for everything. So Stefan had taken to flirting with me now just because he was terribly bored.

"Is that a problem for you?" He asked.

His voice was deeper than usual, and now his lips curved up into a crooked smile.

"No, of course not, but I would like to remind you that I am far too old to succumb to your charm. Your efforts are best utilized on someone else." I said, in a voice which did not sound like my own.

"Old, Tessa, really?" He asked, in a soft voice.

He employed a disbelieving voice with me now, and his lips were inches apart from mine. His eyes dangerously hovered above me. I thought of vultures; I thought of death. Then I thought of its direct opposite. Life! Never had I felt so alive and trembling and shaking my wits out.

My whole body was working harder to sustain me. I began to breathe at a monstrous pace; my heart began to thump erratically and my feelings were all over the place. My mind was relegated to the backseat as it frantically struggled to get to the bottom of the situation. My personal space was being invaded. I did not like that one bit.

"I am forty-four years old, young man." I said, asserting my age.

"Poor me. I am only twenty-seven and I thought I found someone who understands me but apparently age is an issue." He said.

There was an emotional lilt of sorts in the huskiness of his voice causing me to feel roused from something long dormant in me. The spirit within was awakening and feeling confused yet somehow touched to be core by his words.

"Stefan... that's enough fooling around for one night. You said so yourself you have been fooling around too much." I said.

I tried to speak in a stern voice, like a parent in authority.

"I do not deny that I have been fooling around with my life. Teach me how to be a better person. Tell me how to be a better man." He said.

"How, Stefan, how?" I asked, exasperated.

"Do you really not know, Tessa?" He asked rhetorically.

"You are an adult with a mind of your own. You cannot expect me to tell you what to do." I said.

"Then why do you call me a young man?" He asked, in a ragged voice.

He was breathing rather heavily and he looked frustrated with me.

"For goodness sake, stop playing dumb. Let's get it over with." I said, feeling out of sorts.

"I'm waiting for your answer because I am too young and dumb to know anything." He said, sulking.

"Stefan, I am twenty years older than you. Of course I regard you as a young man. I am old enough to be your mother, do you hear that?" I said, in a stilted voice.

Sometimes one has to be cruel only to be kind, and I was doing him a good dead. He might not realise it now, but he would when he had reached my respectable age.

"You're not very precise after all despite your 9.3 minutes, are you, Tessa?" He said, in an eerily calm voice.

While I had begun controlling myself from raising my voice, he had begun lowering his voice to calm but emotionally repressed tones. There was hurt in his eyes.

"What on earth does frying cod have to do with this? I asked, feeling mad that he should question my acute cod-frying precision to the second.

"It's not twenty years. It's seventeen years, if you can bring yourself to calculate to precision without being bias towards me." He said.

I was silent, feeling that the three years made no difference at all. Might as well round up the number to make my point clear.

Looking at me, his gaze mellowed considerably. He took a step closer towards me again and I knew I would not be able to exert control over the situation much longer.

I tried to think of something else. I thought of 9.3 minutes. Then I thought of precision in action. It was nearly midnight. Thus I had to take action.

"It is about time I closed up and about time you left." I said.

My words gushed out with some effort. I sounded so unsure of myself. I only realised belatedly that I speaking far too nervously.

Stefan gave me one last look. His eyes seemed to challenge mine initially, but then he let his guard down upon seeing the nearly overwrought state I was in.

"I'll leave, Tessa but know this. Our age difference may seem like an unsurmountable mountain to you, but deep down, you and I are no different from each other." He said.

There was a mounting emotion in his voice which I could not bear to hear.

"We are not the same and never will be." I said, in the most cutting voice I could muster out at him.

His eyes did not flinch one bit from my very own.

"You betray yourself, Tessa. We feel the same. We have the same wants; the same needs..." His voice trailed off into the silence of the night.

With one disconcerting gaze at me, he turned his back on me and left altogether. I watched until he reached his truck at the far corner of the almost desolate parking space.

I went straight into the kitchen and spoke to Lena.

"You can go home. I will clear up." I said.

I looked at the clock. It was a minute past midnight. My routine had been shattered by Stefan.

Lena knew that this meant that I was going to close up. Her face lightened up and she left immediately. Her boyfriend Klaus was already waiting outside in his empty tourist bus to pick her up.

I glanced again at Stefan's spick and span plate. I was glad he appreciated my cod a lot. Next time I would give him a bigger portion with extra sauce. Everything appeared to be just in place but I was far from feeling calm because it was a minute past midnight. I had never been this late before.

Today nothing went wrong. Only a young man who tried to flirt with me- that was hardly an issue at all. It meant nothing. Had it been any other man, I would have enjoyed the sweet nothings. But not with Stefan. He only flirted with me because he was bored, and when I brought up the matter of his flirting, he kicked up a fuss. How childish he was!

I had not felt calm that night. Perhaps it had been a premonition of something bad about to happen akin to what some people feel. Furthermore in the matter of sacred precision, my closing time had been disrupted by Stefan. My acute timing was off by one minute. This had never happened before, not ever.

One moment I was at the cash register calculating the earnings of the day. The next moment the lights were out. I can remember the feeling of not being able to breathe, followed by excruciating pain in my face before brute force pushed me down. I fell with a sickening thud onto the cold floor. Then the voice of a man who told me to keep quiet or else he would kill me. I did not know it then that he had punched me on the face, blurring my vision and affecting my breathing. I could not see well. It was so dark to begin with. I was numb. At that point a thought crossed my mind that so this is how it feels- to be so calm in the face of something so bad. My last moment here. It went in slow motion.

I did not scream or yell. Perhaps an indication of understanding would have been better for my survival but I did not even nod. I was just paralyzed to the ground with no thoughts. It seemed then that I was resigned to my fate. I knew it was a robbery. It would not be more because I was too old to be assaulted. That was what I told myself.

The man took all which he could lay his hands on, which was the usual earnings of the day. And then, he left just as quickly. Did he carry a weapon? I did not know as it was all dark and my vision had been affected by the injury caused by his attack on me.

I remained on the ground for some time until I realised that lying down would not do me any good. I was alive and I was a survivor. Never would this little inconvenience hinder me. I would just get up and about sorting out this robbery business. Thank goodness I was not harmed more than necessary! As a matter of fact, I had behaved well, lying on the ground without a single movement. The robber must have thought me unconscious.

Trying to support myself up, I gripped on to the table and managed to turn on the lights. Luckily the electricity wires were not cut! Just a click on the switch and it was all bright again but my eyes squinted painfully in the bright light.

I tried to disregard the pain in my eyes, face and my bruised body. I leaned on the table and looked into the cash register. As expected, I found nothing inside. Upon finding that the fixed phone line was disconnected, I searched for my cell phone which was supposed to be on the table. It was gone too.

One foot was asleep but I hobbled to my car which was parked outside. I used my hands to fling my useless foot in the car and turned the key. The engine roared but it felt like the car was moving so slowly. Without looking, I knew that tyres had been flattened. Now I knew that this crime was planned in advance. He knew that I drove this car and had targeted it.

I got out of the car and started pushing it with my remaining strength to the self-service gas station which was twenty meters away. The pushing worked slowly and steadily. I told myself that this was not the time for weakness. I pushed my weary body to the limits.

When I was pushing my beloved car, I heard someone yelling at me. I recognized the voice as Stefan's. I heard his voice from afar, and then it was nearer. Always nearer. I figured my head was concussed and I had only imagined him calling me. After all, he had flirted with me and I did feel out of sorts with him. I had thought of him unnecessarily enough.

But he was real. He had not left the Route 61 stop.

"Tessa, is something the matter?" He asked, in a very concerned voice.

He had caught up with me, and was now standing directly in front of me.

"The tyres are flat." I said.

Darkness reigned everywhere except for highway lamp posts every few meters apart. I looked down. I felt uncomfortable. I must have looked a mess. I was also feeling upset; emotions were gradually flooding through me like an incoming storm with every single push I gave the car.

I tried to drown my emotions. They were never good for you. No need to think too much. Just do what was needed and right. Self-help books were philosophies for souls who wanted torture.

All young men must be in possession of good eyesight, for he asked, "What happened to your face?"

His arms suddenly came around me like a warm blanket. I flinched at the pressure of his warm, steady arms. I could barely keep my calm stance anymore.

This time I looked ahead of me into the darkness, way past Stefan. Stefan however, just had to look straight into my face when he hardly ever did. This was a very wrong time to look at me.

Gently he titled my chin upwards. Without a mind of my own, I was pulled into the enigmatic depth of his eyes. His pupils were burning bright in the darkness.

"Robbery." I said. My eyes were blinking erratically. They hurt.

The seriousness of the robbery sank into my mind. How many robberies have I read about in the newspapers? Some with casualties.

"Goddamn it." He lashed out.

His voice echoed in the darkness. Why was he angry with me?

"Are you hurt? Do you feel pain? How are you feeling? Why have you not called me?"

Stefan must have asked a dozen questions within the minute. It all sounded like Greek to me although my parents did give me a Grecian name. Only his voice was a constant. The meaning of his words fleeted through without real comprehension.

I gave no reply, then realised he needed more than the silence which coursed through the night. I did not realise how much strength I needed to shake my head.

Stefan's presence made me emotional somewhat. Without him, I would have managed the situation much quicker and better. He compromised my strength and my precision in getting things done the way they should.

I avoided his gaze. I wished he would leave me. Further his first reaction was anger upon knowing that I was robbed.

His presence made me want to cry. I did not know why. What I did know was that I had always managed better alone.

He muttered a few obscenities in the darkness. I had never seen him like that before. My heart thumped at every fibre of my being. I shivered in fear of the robbery's aftermath and in fear of Stefan. He must have noticed it somewhat for then in one gentle swoop he lifted me in his arms and held me close to his chest.

"Tessa, I promise everything's going to be alright. Just leave it to me." He said.

Stefan's voice was a constant. He kept on talking to me. I cannot recall what he said because even at that time, I was not aware of what he said to me. Only his deep, reassuring voice lulled me into the present moment of suffering; the pain in my heart, and the pain in my body. I only heard him and felt the pressure of his arms around me. It must have been the shock from the robbery finally creeping in. He carried me back to the restaurant and when he settled me down on the seat, I had lost it. I unreasonably refused to let go of his grasp.

"Don't go, Stefan, please." I said, in barely a whisper.

He looked at me torn, but he gently unclasped my trembling fingers which were clutching like hell at his shoulder blades.

"Tessa, I am not going anywhere. You have to trust me." He said, in a very soothing voice.

He brought my stubborn hands down and gave them a firm squeeze. Then he fished out his cell phone to call the police and the hospital. He retrieved a cloth from the drawer, wet it and sponged my face with it. It was a tea towel which I used to clean tables and in sane circumstances, I would never use it on my face but now I lacked the coherence in words to protest.

I let him clean my blood-stained face up as he seemed very determined to do so, and I had let down my guard. It was only then I realized that blood was still dripping down my cheeks. I scented my own blood and tasted its pungency on my lips. When he wiped my face clean, I closed my eyes. It hurt and I tried not to wince.

I must have looked like a hideous creature, bleeding from a vicious fight for survival. I wondered if the attack on my face left scars. I did not want to be reminded of it every time I looked into the mirror.

"Damn it, it's quite a wound you got there. How fragile you are, Tessa." He said.

Stefan was mostly silent now and biting his lips as if in deep thought. I was not sure if he was angry with having to clean me up or with what had happened to me. Angry with me because I probably kept him from his own time from whatever he was doing. Angry with what happened to me because it delayed him just the same.

By then, I had regained some semblance of control over myself. I felt that I could not keep him from his feigned hospitality any longer. After all, I was an independent woman, have been all this while and always will be. I was strong because of this thought.

"Thank you, Stefan. I'll take it from here." I said, trying to grab the tea towel from him. In the process our hands got in the way.

I hated it when our hands touched.

"Tessa, won't you let me help you?" He said, in a desperate voice.

His warm palms were all over my cold hands, causing me to feel disorientated. I remembered very well that he said my hands were like ice. But I really could not help it now. It was enough for me to start panicking after initially calming down.

"But I can help myself better." I said.

My voice lacked anything reasonably coherent and was breaking up.

"Okay, Tessa." He said, as he gently pressed the towel into my hands.

I knew he was watching me soak my face in the towel. I felt very conscious of myself. Tears streamed down my face, and I wiped them away carelessly. It backfired and caused me to wince in pain due to the multiple wounds on my face.

I had not looked at myself in the mirror and did not want to.

"Don't look at me!" I said, almost pleading with him.
I was about to burst into tears.

"My dearest Tessa." He said, in what seemed to me to be a very tender voice.

My tears streamed down like gushing rain upon hearing him utter endearments in that manner. Why on earth did he think it fit to flirt now? Perhaps he was trying to console me in the only way he knew how; which was to be the great flirt that he was.

"I'll be fine." I managed to say in a meek-sounding broken voice which I did not recognize as mine.

"I know you'll be fine but I just want to make things easier for you. Tell me how I can do that." He said.

"I want to drink something." I gasped out.

I dared not speak more. If unchecked, I was going to sob uncontrollably. I could not bring myself to look at him. Now it was my turn to look everywhere except at him.

He proceeded to make me a cup of coffee from the coffee machine behind the counter. He pressed the button but it did not work. No coffee came out of the nozzle.

"Coin." I finally managed.

It seems strange that even as Lena and I served customers from behind the counter, we had to insert a coin into the machine to make coffee. It was a new machine that I have acquired. Lena and I tinkered with the machine for an hour and yet could not disable the requirement for the coin setting. I had asked the supplier to disable the function as this was not supposed to be a vending machine. Yet so far the supplier had been taking his time.

Stefan fished out a coin from his pocket and out came the welcomed caffeine boost for me. He brought the cup to my lips and as I scented the aroma of black coffee, I started to feel that everything which had happened was only a bad dream. It was a matter of time before I woke up. Maybe it was almost breakfast time. That was why I scented coffee.

But I did not wake up from my nightmare. Nothing was going on like clockwork anymore. I started to sob. First I gulped as I tried to control myself but control was futile today. I sniffed but my breathing became ragged and never had I been in such a total mess before.

"It's alright, Tessa. I am here for you, Tessa, and I do want to be here for you." He said, in a voice which seemed to show that he thought of me.

Upon hearing his words, I sobbed into his chest; ungracefully and unbecoming of what I would normally regard as decent behaviour. My flailing arms went around his as tight as I could go. I sobbed my heart out. I was not thinking straight anymore. His voice became the one constant again and his warm fingers stroked the small of my back repeatedly.

"Let me take care of you. Let me be your friend." He said softly.

His eyes were kind and his voice was very tender.

Helpless, I lay in the embrace of his comforting arms and snuggled against his chest like a child. I sobbed until I could no longer sob. I did not know how long he had held me in his clasp like that. He did not seem to tire of me. Finally I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I slumped against his chest- all motionless. He tenderly whispered into my ear that I was a strong woman while his warm fingers stroked my back still.

Strong? This was the weakest I was in the history of the clockwork independence of my life.

Hearing his well-meant but fallacious words, tentatively I gazed upwards at him. He brushed runaway strands of my hair away from my forehead and tucked them behind my ears. His eyes settled on mine lightly. His utterance of my name, however betrayed his true emotions.

"Tessa." He said.

Never before had I heard my name pronounced with such gut-wrenching intensity which made me want to sob all over again.

"Stefan." I said softly.

My voice was raspy from all the sobbing.

His hands gradually made their way to support the back of my neck as I arched up towards him from the refuge of his chest. I had soaked up his shirt with my tears. I felt so ashamed now that I could ascertain what it was that I felt.

"I'm so sorry to have taken up your time. I'm fine now, really, and please do not feel that you have to stay with me." I said, in an uncertain voice, looking into his eyes for the first time since that moment outside the restaurant.

"Dearest Tessa, I have no where better to be tonight. I was just going to spend the night in my truck." Said Stefan.

"Oh." I said.

Perhaps he was thinking that I was thinking about something else, and he added "Alone."

I had no ready answer to that and did not reply. I was not sure if he wanted company or otherwise.

It had been a long hour before the police and ambulance arrived due to delays caused by construction on parts of Route 61. By the time they arrived, I had calmed down considerably. You could say that I had sobered up. I felt as though I had gone through a terrible state of drunkenness in speech and action despite not being drunk. Stefan had that negative effect on me. I made a mental note to stay away from him as much as I could. His presence made me want to be with him because I was vulnerable, and I figured the best way to counter that was to avoid him at all cost. The avoidance would start precisely tomorrow. Not tonight for I... I have no wish to dwell deeper into this.

The police took my statement and the paramedics examined my face and my body. The police informed me that they would thoroughly investigate the matter based on the description I gave. It was hardly any. I was unable to describe my assailant. Even his voice was a blur. I could have heard him on the street again and not be able to recognise it.

The superintendent informed me that his team would do roadblocks at every exit. They would also search the Route 61 stop but I doubted that they would find my assailant. He was long gone.

The paramedics tended to the gash on my right eyelid and my right cheek. They informed me that whilst it took time for the wounds to heal, there was no cause for concern of long-term injuries. The bleeding was caused by a tear in the right eyelid and broken blood vessels from the nose. They gave me a whole tonne of anti-inflammatory pills, antibiotics and painkillers.

Stefan asked intelligent questions about the extent of my injuries and about how to replace my bandages properly when I had to do it on my own, in addition to the medication. To be honest, I barely took in all the technicalities. For me, it was not important anymore. I know I would be able to manage on my own somehow. My foot was no longer asleep, and that was what I was thinking about. I needed to be able to drive home.

It was a relief to finally see everyone go. Everyone except Stefan who lingered on. I was dead tired and upset but still, I was a good actress. If you acted like nothing happened, nothing happened. All these years in hospitality made me one. I attempted to smile broadly.

"I am glad that the day has finally come to an end! Everything is in order now, precisely as it should be." I said.

Like I said, Stefan was mostly good for barking or flirting except when he was forced to console me with sweet words. He really had the gift of the gab. Now back to his type of normal conversation, he could not say anything agreeable like "Alright, I'll leave now and see you when I do."

"Where do you live?" He asked instead.

"The old historical centre of Thor." I said.

"Where do you live?'' I asked in return.

"The edge of Bad Holburg. Right next to the highway exit." He answered.

"I'll give you a ride home." He said suddenly.

"They're in direct opposites. I can drive now that the tyres are all replaced." I said.

I was thankful that the police had gone beyond their duties to assist in replacing my deflated tyres.

"I must insist, Tessa." Stefan said.

There was sternness in his tone which indicated that it was non-negotiable.

I wanted to say that I insisted on my will too but I did not want to sound rude. I was a little intimidated by him although I should not have been as I know now that I was indeed seventeen years older than he was.

I gave him my car keys. He propped me in the passenger seat while he drove. All the way, there was only silence. Since I had a long, eventful day, I fell asleep without meaning to.

My eyelids only fluttered open when I felt a light tap on my shoulders. Disorientated, I gazed at his long fingers on my shoulders, then at him. I looked around me and recognised familiar surroundings.

"You're home." He said.

"How did you know where I lived?" I asked.

Stefan was caught off-guard. It turned into a guilty look of sorts. Then he pointed at my car's in-built GPS.

"I set it to home. I thought that you could do with the sleep. I did not want to wake you up so I tinkered with the GPS." He said.

"I did not think of that." I said, before continuing "I appreciate all your help today."

Our gazes locked and he brushed it away lightly, saying that he was at the right place and time. Plus he reiterated that he had nowhere better to be tonight.

"You drove me home with my car. How are you going to get back to your truck at the rest stop?" I asked.

I did not think about it beforehand about how inconvenienced he had been by driving me home.

"I will sleep on your couch if it's alright with you. Tomorrow morning we can drive back together and then I can get back to my truck. I'm only expected at my destination in the afternoon, so there is plenty of time." Stefan said.

"Of course you can sleep on my couch. That's the least I can do for you." I said.

I motioned the young man to my couch in the living room and provided him with some pillows and blankets. I told him to make himself comfortable, watch television if he wanted and get something from the fridge if he got hungry.

He nodded in appreciation. Then I went to bed. I did hear some background sounds from the television and knew that he was making himself at home.

I slept the whole night through. When I came out of my bedroom at dawn, I saw that he was already staring out of the window. He must have been eager to get going. I thus did not offer him breakfast, and neither did I eat anything myself. We drove to the Route 61 stop in silence. This time I drove while he sat at the passenger seat. Most of the time, he looked outside the window at the long, dull highway.

During intermittent intervals, we passed fields of wild poppies. The poppies always captured my attention. So striking in their bright red; but not as striking as Stefan's lush, blue eyes...

I gulped hard at that thought, trying to concentrate on the monotonous drive instead.

"Do you like poppies?" He asked.

"I do." I said.

I glanced swiftly at him; and he reciprocated my gaze.

"They bring life and colour to the otherwise dull highway." I continued.

"Your hair, which I like so much, is the red of the poppies." Stefan said in a serious voice.

I could only look at him because he sounded so serious that I wondered if he had intended to flirt but it did not come out right.

"You bring life and colour to my otherwise dull life." He said.

I thought that I could say the same about him.

"I do mean it, Tessa." He said.

His voice went notches lower.

"Stefan, it's so sweet of you to say that. Thank you." I said.

"I do not want you to thank me. What I want..." He trailed but did not continue for I have spoken.

"But I do have to thank you for being there for me last night, Stefan. I did not handle the aftermath of the robbery well, and I am indebted to you because you went out of your way for me." I said.

He turned towards me now, and with a fiery spark in the pupils of his eyes, he said, "I would not have forgiven myself if anything were to happen to you."

We arrived together at the highway stop amidst chatter about the robbery yesterday. News had travelled fast particularly via social media. Regular customers asked if I was okay and I said I was fine. I did not mention that Stefan had been the one and only support by my side as I was not sure if he wanted to be associated with me.

Stefan purposely came in the restaurant a few minutes later than I had and started chatting to his fellow truckers. He acknowledged me with indifference as if yesterday did not happen and he was seeing me for the first time after the robbery.

"You're alright now?" He asked, in a rather gruff voice.

Yet from want of trying too hard to be indifferent, he sounded concerned.

"Yes, I am alright. My face looks worse than it is. In time, I will heal." I said.

"Good." He said, looking right at the monstrous version my face had become.

For a moment, our gazes lingered longer than necessary. I wondered how much uglier I looked now so much so that he could afford to give me more attention. So it was the beautiful and the ugly which stood out, not the plain woman who I was in between them.

He was still gripping the menu; his fingers scratching the laminated, waterproof cardboard. I noticed his discomfort with me and I felt that it was time I headed to the kitchen and practiced what I preached to myself. Avoid him when I could. I called Lena out to get his order instead.

I started with my work afresh at the restaurant. Customers came and left. Stefan also left after having a quick breakfast. Lena had dutifully attended to him.

I did not see him for the next couple of days. In the meantime, the police investigation reached a dead end. I did not pursue the matter further. The bad memories must be relegated to the recesses of my mind and money lost could be made again.

Stefan appeared the following Friday evening. He was rather rude and barking out orders towards me as he always did. He said hello and asked me how I was. I said I was doing fine, whether or not I was really fine because fine is the standard answer you gave to people.

He asked me whether I thought of enhancing security at the restaurant. I said I thought of getting security cameras and an alarm system. He grunted his approval and then he ate his meal quietly. When he came to the counter to pay, I informed him that it was on the house.

It seemed for the shortest period of time, his gruff resistance collapsed because he looked at me somewhat humanely, albeit with an impenetrable composure on his face. He then said he had matters to attend to. I asked if it was the same livestock delivery, and he shook his head. He said it was a personal matter.

In between quiet moments at the restaurant, I had been thinking of revamping my life. My life had been turned upside-down by the robbery. Was it some emotional scar lurking through, whispering to me that I could never really be safe no matter what? I did not know but I know that it had been affecting me. I no longer felt pleasure in doing what I did. I felt a sense of unease and deprivation, and I felt a longing for Stefan because I reasoned, he happened to be there when I was most vulnerable.

It occurred to me that if I had lost the joy in these twenty-four years of managing my restaurant, something was amiss. I had to do something to get the pleasure back. It hurt a lot that I did not enjoy ticking my time sheet in the kitchen even though I was more precise than ever. That was the one thing in the world I loved to do more than anything. What came a close second was waking up exactly at 5.00 am in the mornings.

When the alarm system was installed, I felt a little more secure but not yet back to my old self. I kept myself busier then. I tinkered with the coffee machine. It was with such vigour until Ernst offered to help. I said that it was something I had to do myself. Ernst left me at that. I finally managed to get it to work without requiring that pathetic coin. I then called the supplier and trumpeted to him that I did not need him to come anymore.

In this brazen mood, I sought to widen my horizons. I thought of my life so far. Not much achievement except for a restaurant or is it achievement enough? I guess the question was whether I was satisfied with my life now. Why had the robbery such an impact on me? Why was I not satisfied with my life after the robbery? Did I realise my mortality somehow?

And Stefan... I had to get him out of my head. He did not like me; nor did I; him. He was always rude. If he was not rude, he was a great flirt. Yet he did go out of his way to help me the night I was weak. Well, I told myself, I could have latched on like a limpet to anyone who showed any semblance of compassion that night. Even a total stranger.

I decided to make my life more interesting by taking up mountain-climbing. Dear reader, around the area of Bad Holburg, we have quite a few mountains. When I was a child, I disliked the mountains because of stories of witches who ate naughty children. Do you not know that legend has it that witchcraft was prevalent in the mountains here? I was terrified.

So as you can guess, being rational, the next logical thing to do was to avoid mountains at all cost, the same way I had proceeded to avoid Stefan. I have never hiked up a hill or a mountain in the region.

Yet, this was something I wanted to change. I was getting braver now, in my own view at least. The mountain was not Stefan. I could not lump them in the same category.

On Saturday, I wanted to hike up one mountain, the one closest to home. At the end of the thirty minutes' drive there, it started to rain. I was cursing and swearing as I had made the effort. Furthermore, to add salt to the wound, I was extremely restless since the robbery. A thought flashed into my mind. Why not I do something indoors that is active as well?

I ended up at a rock-climbing centre in Bad Holburg. It did not matter then should it rain cats and dogs for a hundred years. I just wanted to start on something. So there I was, for the first time, in a rock-climbing centre. I was in awe, from a layperson's perspective, with the array of fake plastic-like mountains they had. Once I was roped in, I tried to climb by holding on to those little plastic rocks (at least they looked like plastic to me) to propel myself higher.

I succeeded in the first few lower ones but had difficulty with the higher ones as I could not reach the rocks. When I could, I found that I could not lift my body higher nor could my feet get into the right position on the higher rocks. I did not realize how unfit I was until now. I lacked hand strength to propel myself upwards. And I thought I was a very capable cook; capable enough of tossing fried cod in a heavy iron-cast pan! At least my wrist-strength was indisputable there.

I did not realise that the lone instructor on duty was watching me all this while. He must have seen the novice that I was. He came to me and offered to teach me how to climb. He was a friendly man and at times he placed my legs at the right rock because I took too long to get it right.

I was terribly embarrassed at my antiques but he made me laugh when he cracked jokes. The tone of his voice was simply melodious and he spoke cheerily. It was such a welcomed difference from the gruffness of the one young man who had affected me so.

If everything was easy on the heart, it must be right. This instructor was right for me.

Under his watchful eyes, I did progress in rock-climbing. I managed to reach a peak of one of the mountains there. I was satisfied. Now I had a big grin on my face. The instructor released the rope latch and I slid down to the ground. It was quick and I felt a burst of adrenaline in me for I had never done this nor felt this burst of excitement before.

This was something new for me. I had never felt so alive! The surge of excitement gushing through my veins... it was like an addiction. It worked to cleanse my thoughts of Stefan.

The instructor's name was Karl and he invited me for a drink at the adjoining café after the session was over. I was gushing so much about my climb, talking ninety to a dozen. He looked genuinely interested in my self-proclaimed feat, and he said that he looked forward to seeing me here again. I said that I would definitely be back for more.
I asked him if I was actually too old to start something like this in my mid-forties, but he brushed it off; saying that he was ten years older than I was and still going strong. It really did make me smile and smile I did the whole day long. I felt like a teenager again!

"You are as young as you think you are, Tessa." He said, with a cherry smile.

"Which also means, Karl- that I am as old as I think I am." I said, reciprocating his smile with a cherry smile of my own.

We both laughed. I had never laughed so much before! Thank you for this glimpse of love. It was really out of the blue but suddenly I thought back of the lovely woman with her moonstone. I had made a wish with her moonstone under the full moon, despite secretly ridiculing her. I wondered whether she was still off the beaten track, or if she had returned home.

I had wished for love, and this was love finally materializing, was it not?

Since then, I have been rock-climbing at the centre almost every weekend. It gave me something to look forward to. My fuel expenses sky-rocketed. I drove so often to Bad Holburg that I could actually drive with my eyes closed. It seemed that I saw the world in a whole new light. I was more aware of the surfaces of things; of how rough or smooth they were. How they felt on the skin. A cup of coffee was no longer just a cup of coffee. It had a silky-smooth surface. The flower motives on the cup were poppies. They bulged out a little. The rims... well the rims of the cup were perfect for delicate lips. Every object was viewed in different light. I was so much happier.

When I was at the restaurant, I would scrutinize the walls in detail, and thought to myself that I could actually climb right up to the roof!

I even flirted with Ernst and Friedrich. Now, before you say anything, they were single men in their forties and had no partners at the moment as far as I was concerned. They noticed it and Ernst reciprocated, but not Friedrich. He was far too shy.

I tried not to think about the robbery anymore nor about Stefan because I associated him with the bad experience. When he came in, I smiled my customer service smile at him while beckoning Lena to take his order. I would then go into the kitchen and cook his fried cod, but I would not serve him nor be at the cashier when he wanted to pay. Every time Lena comes back with the same message from him to me that he sends his compliments to the chef and that he wishes me a good evening.

On the rare occasion, I did see Stefan though, talking to Lena when she was cleaning tables. He appeared to be deeply interested in everything she had to say. I turned away and continued to wash the dishes. No eavesdropping. Curiosity killed the cat.

...

A few weeks later, I was already quite a regular at the rock-climbing centre where Karl and I became friends. During this time, we also went hiking up the real mountains. I lost my fear altogether of the witchcraft lore and can say that I love mountains now.

The police investigation on the robbery produced a single lead. A witness saw the masked man escape by means of a truck. The witness only recalled the region of the licence plate and not more. The robber was most likely a trucker. Police were now trying to trace the transport company and hopefully from there, they would find the robber.

I told Karl about what happened to me. That would explain my bruised face which took some time to heal. Karl brushed that off saying that I was beautiful. I smiled, knowing that he was lying but I cherished the lie. Karl also came to the restaurant and would spend hours with me in the evenings here. I actually looked forward to quiet days at the restaurant even though this meant that income was down. I enjoyed having Karl over to talk to me and keep me company.

News that I had a new boyfriend soon travelled to my regular customers and the trucker gang. At this juncture, I would not say that Karl was my boyfriend, but he was a jolly, good friend. We had never discussed the possibility of a relationship. However I let gossip take a life of its own. I was too happy with my new life to be bothered about what people thought about me.

Karl was fifty-four, and very fit. In fact I would not say that he looked his age. He was like the George Clooney who ages so well. A very distinguished man who was also fit and healthy.

Ernst was a little jealous that I had a new friend. He thought that I was into him because I flirted with him. He sulked for quite a bit. There was no change in Friedrich's behaviour towards me. The other regular customers were cordial towards Karl and so was Stefan.

Stefan welcomed Karl into the gang. When Karl was with me, I felt able to face Stefan. Still we did not speak to each other. It seemed that we both had nothing to say to the other. I avoided his gaze the same way he avoided mine. Although we were together in the gang, we were as distant as North and South. I think that we kept up with this pretence very well. If needed, I looked generally in his direction while he looked at the clock. I think that he had fixated himself permanently on the wall clock.

At this point of time, Lena had already broken off with Klaus and I think was seeing Stefan, but I was not too sure about it as both were secretive about their state of affairs. Some time ago, Lena had complained to me about how boring and uncommunicative Klaus was.

One evening, the police came to inform me that they had more information about the robber. He worked for a company which transported livestock. I was informed that two trucks from the company were driving together that night. One truck returned earlier while the other the next afternoon for unknown reasons. The superintendent in charge of my case told me that they could be accomplices. Both drivers had forged identification documents and could not yet be identified.

I asked for the name of the company and I was duly informed. When I heard the name of Stefan's company, my heart sank. Did Stefan have something to do with the robbery? It would explain the fact that he was there by my side that night. Perhaps he had wanted to do damage control and to satisfy himself that I was the world's most idiotic and clueless victim.

Despite my golden rule of avoiding him at all cost, I had to speak to him. Stefan was surprised when I called him aside after my fake customer service smile. He had been about to expect Lena, his girlfriend to greet him.

We went into the kitchen to talk. Lena was there. I informed Stefan everything that the police told me. Stefan was silent and looked intensely at me. When he spoke, he apologized and said that he felt very bad about this as it concerned one of his ex-colleagues. Then he looked down at the tiled floor and said in subdued tones he had no knowledge of the robbery whatsoever. I was not convinced because he did not exert the vehemence of someone innocent. Lena was not convinced either as she came up to him and was about to slap his face.

My body reacted before I could think. Automatically I stood in the way between the both of them. I grasped Lena's arms tight and pulled her away.

She looked at me wildly.

"Violence seems no purpose, Lena." I said.

Lena looked at Stefan and said that their relationship was over but he did not look at her. Instead his eyes slipped up to mine. He looked at me, battered and in pain.

Yet it was Lena who spoke.

"How could you do this to me, Tessa?" Lena cried.

"Do what to you, Lena?" I asked, trying to figure out how I was complicit in this matter.

My attention was diverted towards the screaming Lena now.

"You knew something was not right with Stefan. That was why you avoided him like the plague, wasn't it? You pushed us together, and all this while I thought you saw us as a potential match." Lena cried.

Initially I was too stunned for words. Her train of thoughts were remarkably off-tangent.

"Lena, I..." I said, but I had no idea what I had wanted to say.

How could I say that I felt terribly unearthed by virtue of his presence? The way he gazed into my eyes seemed like he gazed into my soul. The gruff and guttural way he spoke to me seemed to indicate tumultuous emotions within. The way he cradled me in his arms made me feel like... oh, I do not know!

"That's it. You can't say it, because you knew he was one of the accomplices. He is a bad man. He hurt you, but you let him get away with it. Why?" Lena cried.

"I believe Stefan is a good man. I avoided him because I already have a boyfriend, Karl." I said, trying to find something to say which was plausible as well as factual.

I nudged Stefan. He took it as a cue to apologize to Lena but she would hear none of it. It seemed that her affections had shifted just as quickly. She dished out her cell phone to call the police. Without thinking, I stopped her, saying that Stefan might be innocent, and that we should not interfere with the police investigation. Let us give Stefan the benefit of the doubt. Everyone was innocent until proven guilty.

Lena was so mad at me, claiming further that as her employer, I had endangered her life by harbouring a criminal.

"You protect him so much!" She yelled.

"He said that he had nothing to do with it." I replied, trying to speak for Stefan but it was getting difficult not to be emotional.

"I don't believe the both of you and I quit! Maybe you're in it for the insurance!" She yelled.

I was shocked at her words. Insurance payout had never come into mind. Perhaps I could claim something. Lena sobbed and immediately phoned Klaus, who was all too willing to accept her back. Lena was indeed fortunate to have Klaus who doted on her.

I stood there, pretty catatonic. Lena was always known to be rash and she had a one-track mind. Once she set her mind to something, it was very difficult to change her mind.

Of course the evidence was not conclusive. I was however put on guard. I did have a soft spot for Stefan and I hoped against hope that he was not a cold-blooded criminal. He could not have been when he had seen to me when I had needed him most.

Perhaps I was a fool. He knew I had a soft spot for him and he was toying with me to escape liability for his misdeeds, or just maybe he felt guilty.

I was not sure what my feelings were. I felt a multitude of emotions and my body did not know how to react. Then, like clockwork, I proceeded to wash the dishes which Lena had left halfway.

Stefan came towards me and apologized for all the trouble he caused me. I was not looking at him, but at the dishes as I was washing them. I said that I was doing what was right. That was whether or not I believed him.

Stefan said that he would replace Lena until I could find a new assistant. I said no. I could manage alone and manage it well I did. I had Karl who came in the evenings now and he was sympathetic to my plight. I told him the whole story of what happened. He felt that I should at least report Stefan to the police but I refused. If he was innocent, then he had nothing to lose. Still, I was afraid of the outcome. I was under the spell of the young man because he was there for me, whether or not he was an accomplice.

The next day, Stefan appeared at my home. I was more than surprised to see him there.

"Why are you here, Stefan?" I asked.

He appeared unsure. That made the two of us.

I was unsure what to do with this young man, so I invited him into my house for a cup of coffee.

He sipped his coffee in silence, and I tried to be the adult I was supposed to be and project calm.

"I need a place to stay for the time being, and I was wondering if you'll take me in." He said.

"I see." I said, but I was not really seeing at all.

Alarm bells were ringing and I needed him to leave.

Why do you need a place to stay?" I asked.

"Something came up, and I could think of no one except you." He said.

My heart started to thump hard against my chest. Although his words were curt, his voice appeared to be deeper than usual.

"I do not have an extra bedroom. I can only offer you my couch like the last time." I said.

"That was what I was thinking about." He said.

"I doubt that it would be very comfortable for you." I said.

"I have slept in lesser conditions." He said.

"Okay. You may stay here for the time being." I said.

He looked at me in appreciation and proceeded to give me a hug. I felt him in my embrace and I did not feel very maternal about it. I let go of our embrace.

"What came up exactly?" I asked then.

"I mixed with the wrong crowd and I am trying to get away. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf." He said.

I asked him what he meant by that. He looked at me with a forlorn gaze in his eyes and I was sorry that I asked.

He never told me what it was. The next few days however, I managed to know him better. He would be awake before me. I wondered whether it was because my couch was so uncomfortable that he could not sleep well.

Anyhow he would have breakfast prepared on the table. He made me pancakes on day one. The second day he made me an omelette and the third day he actually made some blueberry muffins from the ingredients I had in my pantry. We would dine together on the small round table in the dining room.

I was really surprised and thought that I should have hired him as my assistant until Lena's replacement was found. He was quite handy in the kitchen. I told him that he need not have made me breakfast but he just shrugged.

Usually after breakfast we would go our separate ways and see each other only in the evening or night. I would leave for the restaurant while he went to wherever he went. He came and left in a scooter. He still did not tell me about his private affairs though. I wondered if he was still working for the livestock company.

From an uneasy acquaintance, we managed to have a civil friendship of sorts. He was no longer barking or grunting out at me in short burst of sentences although rarely did we gaze each other in the eyes when we could help it.

We would talk about general topics like the weather, food and our hobbies. I found out that he liked to cook, and he was travelling around Europe after obtaining a postgraduate degree from university. He did a major in engineering. I thought about what a smart yet adventurous young man he was.

I thought about how little I had achieved academically. I only had completed high school and followed some night classes in culinary arts. As I said, I was not very ambitious and I did not have any aspirations; did not go looking beyond my nose.

On a Saturday morning after breakfast, we were on the couch sitting side by side after watching an engineering documentary together. It did not interest me, but I thought that it might interest him since he did major in engineering. And I guess I wanted to be by his side but did not want to say so.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked me when I was silent after the documentary.

"I regret not studying more when I was younger." I said.

"I would rather have the experience than the qualification. It is experience which makes one wise." He said, looking straight into my eyes.

"You are right, but employment of late is based on qualifications. That is the first hurdle to overcome." I said, knowing this to be the hard truth.

"If I were the employer, I would not judge my employees that way." He said.

He made me feel very comfortable. Perhaps he did understand me on some level or perhaps he was trying to console me.

I realised every time after he left in the mornings how much I missed his company. I wondered why I did not feel the same way with Karl although the both of us did converse quite a bit in the evenings.

"So what are you doing now, exactly?" I asked Stefan.

"I am trying to get my life back on track." He said.

"Care to tell me more? Remember that I am seventeen years older than you and so I have the experience." I said, remembering that he was pretty sensitive about the precise age difference between us.

His expression was stoic as he looked at me. Then his voice kind of faltered.

"I lied to you. I was an accomplice in the robbery which got you hurt. My ex-colleague, Hector and I fought during the night of the robbery. I was against it. I did not want to go through with it anymore. I thought he had agreed to abandon our initial plans, but he did not." Stefan said, all in one go.

I just stared at him. It seemed like I was not totally surprised but I was also not totally anticipating this.

"I am so, so sorry, Tessa. When I saw what Hector did to you, I could not forgive myself. I have been trying to look for Hector but he has gone into hiding." He said.

His voice seemed far away and my head was spinning. Spinning and doing somersaults. The world was turning around me or was I turning around the world? Round and round.

I felt his warm body support me as I slumped backwards. His arms went all around me. My body was hot and cold at the same time.

"Would you like more coffee?" I asked, out of the blue. I saw that his coffee cup was empty.

"Tessa, please forgive me." He pleaded with me; grasping my hands before I could reach for the kettle.

"I expect you to leave, now that you're done with your confession. It was what I wanted to hear." I said, with a sad smile.

"Tessa!" He cried.

I felt his nails gripping into my flesh.

"But I had already known, Stefan." I said, in a soft voice, looking into the blue of his eyes.

He looked shocked.

"I suspected that you were not entirely innocent of what happened to me. You knew where I stayed. You lied when you said that you set the car GPS to home. I have never saved any personal information on the GPS because I did not know how to." I said, in a gentle voice.

Well, a country bumpkin like me did not make much use of technology.

He and his criminal friend Hector certainly spied me for a bit. They targeted my car, they knew where I stayed. It was all premeditated.

"You knew?" He asked slowly.

I looked at him straight in the eyes.

"Yes. I may be old, but I am not that gullible and oblivious." I said.

I was all about precision, but I did not say that.

"You remained silent all this while." He said softly.

I did not say anything. What was there to say which he did not already know? True to his words, I remained silent. I turned away from him and started to clear up the coffee table. All cups and saucers precisely stacked on top the other.

I walked towards the kitchen. I heard his footsteps following me.

"Why are you so nice to me, Tessa?" He asked.

"Young man, just get your life sorted out and start afresh. Promise me this." I said.

My attention was glued to the dishes. I saw how quick water gushed out from the tap. Although I did not turn to face him, I felt Stefan hovering above me, barely giving me any space.

"Are you angry with me, Tessa?" He asked softly.

I shook my head.

"Can you ever forgive me, Tessa?" He asked, equally soft.

Now I turned towards him and nodded.

"Everyone deserves a second chance. So do you." I said.

Plus, he had the whole world at his feet. The world was his oyster.

"Tessa...about Lena..." He said.

He tried to say something but words failed him.

"Lena is a nice girl. She may be hot-headed but she has a kind heart. It's not too late." I said.

Although Lena had stormed out of my restaurant's employment in a huff and puff, she had returned frequently to dine with Klaus, telling me that she was watching over me. I did not know what to make out of it except that she cared for me in her own way.

"What I meant was that I..." Stefan said.

"You have to make the first move. She is far too proud." I said, patting him on the back.

I might as well make myself useful while he was still here by giving him advice, now that the dishes were done. I motioned him to the living room again and we sat on the couch side by side.
He was much too quiet and I felt I had to say something pleasant and advice-worthy. I tried to think of myself as Tessa the counsellor.

"You can do it. I have seen how you strike up conversations with women at the restaurant. And I know of your escapades in your truck." I said, as a matter of fact, and then I thought perhaps I should have left the last part out. He had seemed quite particular about it.

I noticed how his eyes had pierced into mine while I was trying to encourage him. It made me feel uncomfortable. Perhaps I really should not have mentioned his truck escapades.

"It was only a one-off thing." He said.

"If you say so." I said, but I immediately brought my hands to my lips. I should let it be. I did not care how many women he brought to his truck, why should I indeed?

"It only happened once. It was for sex, nothing more." He said.

His words were short and stinging, and his eyes pierced into mine still. He need not look at me so intensely like he was going to eat me up. Did he not have enough breakfast just now?

"Of course, it was for sex and nothing more." I said, repeating his words rather sarcastically.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

He inched his head closer towards mine and our foreheads brushed. I quickly distanced myself and purported to open the windows for some fresh air.

"It's about time the windows are opened for the day." I said, in a cherry voice, trying to think of Karl.

It was going to be a sunny Saturday afternoon. Maybe I could go hiking with Karl today. I have to think about him a little bit more. He must have liked me quite a bit to want to spend time with me. Not Stefan. He was just using me so that I did not hand him over to the police.

"Please Tessa, I am serious about talking to you. You seem to darting all around from the couch, to the dishes, to the windows..." He said, standing up and moving towards the windows too.

"Can we just talk seriously? Can you sit still for five minutes?" He asked.

This was what I was afraid of.

"Sure, Stefan." I said, walking back to the couch and sitting as still as I could.

He repeated his question about what I meant by it was for sex and nothing more.

"I did not mean anything more." I said, irritatingly. Why must he analyse me word for word?

"I see Karl coming to the restaurant often. Is he your boyfriend?" He asked then.

"What does Karl have to do with anything we have just said?" I asked.

"I want to satisfy my curiosity about you, Tessa." He said.

"He is a nice man." I said.

"The same way you say that Lena is a nice girl?" He asked.

"Yes." I said.

"Do you like him?" He asked.

"Of course I do because he is a nice man." I said.

It occurred to me that we were speaking in a merry-go-round way.

"Besides being nice, why do you like him?" Stefan asked.

"He keeps me company. He is my age. Plus I learn rock-climbing from him." I said, with a smile.

"Well, enough about me and Karl. We are older than you and Lena and our expectations are different from you youngsters." I continued, trying to use age as a reason, if not excuse to stop talking about my relationship with Karl.

"What are your expectations in a relationship?" He asked me suddenly.

I bit my lips. I did not know really. I was not really in a romantic relationship with Karl, was I? Yet the way the conversation went made me think perhaps there was more about our friendship.

I did feel love but now I realised that it was a newfound love for life and not the man himself. Oh gosh, how had I messed up!

"I don't know. I am not in a relationship with Karl. We are just friends." I finally admitted.

Perhaps I should talk to Karl to find out if he likes me as a friend or a potential girlfriend. I would not want to give him false hope. I did like him, truly and deeply but it was not love I felt for him. That I was very sure... because I did not feel butterflies in my stomach... I had only felt another...

Stefan. It had been him all along.

"Why did you not turn me over to the police when you found out that I was an accomplice to the robbery?" He asked.

There was an unrelenting tone in his voice and it scared me.

I could not answer. I did not have an answer to that really. My throat felt dry.

"I am thirsty." I said, standing up from the couch.

He pulled me unfashionably downwards onto the couch, and I stiffened.

"Please, Tessa..." He said, his voice gentler now.

"This is a ridiculous question. Do you want me to turn you over to the police?" I asked incredulously.

He looked at me sadly with full of regret.

"I do not know. I have felt very remorseful over what happened to you. I deserve to pay the price for hurting you. I am thinking of turning myself in, now that I've searched everywhere for Hector and still could not find him." He said.

A sudden jolt gushed up my heart.

"Young men like you always act rashly. Take it from me, the victim. I do not believe in penal punishment any more than I believe in the ability to transform sincerely from one's heart. Turn over a new leaf; that is all I ask of you." I said.

"You have been very kind to me, Tessa. How can I repay you?" He asked.

I wanted to say that he had better get out of my life before I do more extreme activities due to the wake-up call of the robbery. Rock-climbing was extreme enough for me. And perhaps I was flirting too much with poor Karl.

"Channel all your restlessness to something worthwhile." I said instead.

In reality I was giving myself the same advice.

"But why did you not turn me over to the police?" He asked again.

This one question annoyed me to no end.

"Gosh Stefan, why does it matter so much to you?" I asked, practically yelling at him.

I placed my hands on his shoulders. I was not sure what I wanted to do. He did not move but gazed at me with an unfathomable spark in his eyes. His expression was always undecipherable to the extent I could not take it anymore. I was at the brink of frustration. Presumably I was going to shake him till he stopped asking that question. But I did manage to control myself.

"You want the answer, huh? Here it is. It is because I am a pathetic, lonely woman who is desperate for company. You were with me that night when I was most vulnerable." I said.

It pained me to say that I was alone and afraid for I did not portray my fears to anyone, ever. Except to him.

"Satisfied now?" I asked.

My voice was devoid of emotion. I felt very empty now that I admitted my insecurities. I had nothing more to lose. The old spinster was a spinster for a reason.

"For my own good, you should flee from me. I know that you are only keeping watch over me because you feel guilty. And that makes me feel more pathetic than ever. I do not need your pity." I said.

"That's not true, Tessa." He said, in a burst of passion. His voice was very guttural and his eyes; burning bright.

He sought to push me closer towards him. My hands on his shoulders fell to my side. I was taken aback and kept as still as I could, like a wooden doll in his arms.

"Before the robbery, I had the opportunity to know you better and I found you to be a very nice person. I found that even though you did not say much to me, there was something about you which made me feel..."

His words died down just like that. He could not say what he felt about me.

He cleared his throat and started speaking again.

"That was why I could not go on with the planned robbery." He said.

"That's very nice of you." I said. Feeling pity for a pathetic, lonely spinster was not worth the mention by all means.

He gazed me deeply in the eyes, and his voice was filled with a passionate tremor when he did speak.

"How you spoke to me in that sweet lilt of your voice. How you twirled your fingers when you served me my favourite dish. How you tried to repress a smile. How dedicated you were to the restaurant. Your eccentricities. Your precision. Your time sheet in the kitchen." He said, in a rampage of emotion.

"No, stop it!" I said, pressing his lips with my hands.

"The red of your luscious hair. The dewy scent of you." He said.

He would not stop speaking then.

"How you look at me with those heart-wrenchingly beautiful, soulful eyes. I feel like I have known you forever." He said as he gently kissed my hands which were on his lips.

A sudden wave swept through me and my hands briskly jerked off from his lips.

"Young man, you are being very amorous but it's time for me to go hiking with Karl." I said.

"Tessa..." He trailed.

"Well, I believe that you have a lot of untapped potential in you. It would be wasted if you served time in prison." I said, trying to be as professional as Tessa the counsellor could.

"But Tessa, I love you." He said, bringing his palms up to frame my face so that I had no choice but to look at him.

The blue in his eyes was filled with volatile passion; its depths a ravine of hope and despair. His voice was guttural and almost like a sob. When I saw him and heard him utter those three words, my heart thumped frantically. This moment was so surreal.

It was the first time he said that he loved me. Impossible! But I knew he did love me. I think I always knew. I did but I just...God, what was wrong with me?

He saw that I was silent.

"You must not say that..." I said, trying to speak despite waves of emotion churning up my throat. Who was I kidding anyway? I knew he was serious and I was just in denial of the situation.

"I'll say what I want to say, Tessa. I've taken long enough to confess my love to you." He said.

He shifted his position on the couch and I think he was trying to find an angle to kiss me on my lips.

I let him kiss me. He did kiss me gently at first, and then he deepened the kiss as my body started to respond to him in wanton disregard of anything else. It was like I went against my own will. I had surrendered to his kiss. I had let him into my desire and passion.

Fancy the clockwork woman gone all haywire!

I was just a plain, almost middle-aged woman who did not stand out nor think very much outside the box. Only that robbery changed my outlook, and that was very recent.

Yet how wantonly had I reciprocated his kiss. I savoured the taste of his lips and nuzzled my face against his neck.

"Do you care for me a little, Tessa? I think that you do. No, I know that you do, the same way I care for you." He said, in a very tender voice.

He was making this difficult for me. I could not control myself much longer.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. I hid my face against his neck.

"My love, my Tessa." He said, in a voice which reverberated through my spine.

I arched my head towards him, and looked into his eyes; the depths of which triggered so much unsaid emotions in the both of us that we knew all along that we both loved the other deeply.

I would not admit that I loved him ever since he entered the restaurant.

I would not admit that I knew he did fall head over heels in love with me just the same.

I would not give in to love for it compromised the life I had known; my fondness for precision and accuracy. Who would accept my eccentricities?

He would; I knew.

Yet it had been my fear of love. I did not think anyone could love me unconditionally and not leave after they became bored of me. So I had always been the first to leave.

"I want to be with you because I love and accept everything about you. I do not want you to ever change." He said.

How could he have read my thoughts?

"Stefan..." I said.

"Say it already, Tessa. Your expressive eyes tell me so much that you do not say." He said, coaxing me patiently although he was getting restless in anticipation of my answer.

"I love you, Stefan." I said.

I looked into his eyes. I let him see all of me; all my vulnerabilities, all my imperfections and all my flaws. And all my love for him. I really loved him to the extent that it was too painful to bear in secret for so long.

I said it again and again.

"I love you, Stefan. Oh, how much I do love you." I said as I gazed into the lushness of his eyes.

I saw what that unfathomable gaze was. It had always been the gaze of love, right before my very eyes. I was just too blind to see; to stubborn to acknowledge and too much of a coward to admit to myself that I could love him as well.

He let out a groan of joy and satisfaction of having heard me say those three little words.

He pulled me close to his body and I surrendered my body and soul to him. It was so cosy to feel love and to acknowledge love. It was, in fact, perfectly marvellous! I could not describe the ecstasy of my joy in words. He made sweet and passionate love to me; our bodies upon the other as one. My breath became his the same way his became mine. He worshipped every inch of my body, as I did his. He was the perfect specimen of a man. His uncontrolled groans sent thrills to my spine and I could not help but writhe against him, feeling my own desire peak in tangent with his. He made me feel like the Heavens had showered upon us and that the moon; her light burning bright, paved way for an exuberant future.

I would not talk about our age difference anymore, nor would I deride myself that I am not good enough for a younger man. I would be the best version of myself and I would be just simply me.

Eventually he did sort himself out. He managed to get a job true to his course of study but in the evening peak hours he comes and cooks in the kitchen restaurant with me. Because he inspires me, I started to become more ambitious and eventually I opened a branch in Bad Holburg with Lena and Klaus at the helm. Lena and I made up. I told her the truth about how I felt about Stefan. She accepted my explanation and in the beginning was distant towards him, but over time, she accepted him as a friend.

Karl and I remained friends. He said that he suspected all along that I loved Stefan; and because Karl did love me, he wanted only my happiness. He was prepared to let me go. For that, I grew fonder of Karl. Now the three of us- Karl, Stefan and I frequently go hiking in the mountains together.

...

"Penny for your thoughts, Mrs. Bauer?" He asks.

His voice lights up the kitchen and I smile.

"Precisely 9.3 minutes." I said, turning towards him.

Then we both look at the fried cod in the pan with satisfaction; crispy and golden brown.

"And in precisely three minutes, I will have dinner with my wife. We shall have fried cod with potatoes, no salad." He says.

"Well, Mr. Bauer, I must insist on the salad." I say.

He smiles and then nods as he kisses me on the lips, and I practically beam at him. I have never been happier. So much love emanates around us inside this cosy restaurant at Route 61.

Today beyond the restaurant glass windows, I see her again, the woman with the moonstone pendant. She sits in a nondescript car and she appears to be looking inside our restaurant. I wonder what she is thinking about and then I see her smile, as though at me, and I smile back but I could have imagined her smile because I am so happy. In my heart, I wish her all the best love can bring.

I run outside towards her, wanting to welcome her in. Two years had passed since she was last here.

She gets out of the car and stands before me.

"You do remember me?" She asks, but she knows that the answer is obvious.

"Of course, I do. I made a wish for love with your moonstone under the full moon and my wish came true." I say.

She gives me a big hug.

"He told me that night that he wanted only you, and no one else. He was trying to make you jealous by talking to me about being lonely but apparently it sort of back-fired. Jealousy is not one of your traits." She says.

"I did not know... he never told me." I say.

"Of course he did not. If he did then, would you have accepted him?" She asks.

"No, I was stubborn. I fought my feelings all the way." I say.

"Well, I'm glad you finally succumbed to his charms and that your story has a happy ending." She says.

I see her moonstone pendant hanging from her neck, glimmering subtly in the moonlight. I look up to the skies, and naturally with this mysterious woman, the moon was full.

"Care to make another wish?" She asks.

I shook my head.

"I have found love. God, I married him." I said.

She nods, and she says to me, "I think that my story is just beginning. I want to return home. I've been away far too long."

She talks of the beaten track of the lonely region. She talks of nature, of people and of scents. Her preoccupation with the latter amazes me.

"Where is home?" I ask.

"The sea. Every day I miss home more and more. It is time." She says.

She gives me a farewell hug and although I invite her in, she shakes her head. She tells me that it is going to rain. There is a musky saturation inherent in the atmosphere - the scent before rain, she describes it as such. I watch as she gets into the car. She waves at me and I stand there until her car is out of sight. I run back into the restaurant.

My attention is now reverted to my husband. Stefan gazes into my eyes and says, "How lucky am I to have you in my life, my dear love Tessa."

He looks at me lovingly and forgets his fried cod which was cooked to precision in 9.3 minutes. I kiss him on his lips, tasting the fishiness mingled with basil and rosemary. He deepens our kiss and I surrender to him completely; knowingly and willingly.

I whisper into his ears, "The robbery was a blessing in disguise."

He groans, "You should never say this when you talk to people. It's a bit too much to take in."

"No." I say. "Only to the man I love; for it is he who turns out to be an archangel in disguise."

He kisses me passionately on my lips, and I blush crimson red. We were in the restaurant, after all.

"To my wife for she is none other than the poppy fields; growing wild in this region. She colours my life. She makes me complete." He says.

"I could also say the same about you." I retort back.

"When I first met you, I fell head over heels in love with you. I tried to disguise it, but instead I ended up doing everything else except approach you nicely." He says.

"Hmm, when you were not barking out orders at me, you were either lashing out, being gruff or being the great flirt." I said.

"Well, I can still be the great flirt." He says, in the tenderness that I have grown to know so well.

"Flirt with me then." I say, looking into his eyes shyly.

He winks at me boyishly, and I look at him mesmerized.

The full moon above us crept behind dark rain clouds. The wind started to howl, and barely a few minutes later, the skies above us brought thunderous rain.

We have peppered the Route 61 highway with wild poppies. They are on the midsection of the highway, on the grass, on the sidewalks, in pots and in vases on all the tables. The thunderstorm breathes life into them; and as they lift their pretty buds into bloom, the world seems brighter than ever, despite the darkest of skies.

We all exist for love; this is what I truly believe now. Not precision; not that ridiculous 9.3 minutes of perfectly fried cod; yet because of love, the 9.3 minutes do not seem as ridiculous as it could be, nor am I as precise as I was anymore. I have scrawled love everywhere now, and I know that love can blossom from the most unexpected places. Here the barren region of Route 61; now rich with blood-red poppies in endless pastures till no further the eyes could see beyond the horizon.

"Such beautiful red hair!" He says. His voice- guttural and deep; and I know that he is desirous for me.

He twirls me around; kisses my hair, my lips and my eyelids when I lower them. I have never loved him so well.