J IS FOR JOLENE

- MOVING IN-

— CHAPTER TWO: MOVING IN —

"THIS HOUSE IS GONNA NEED SOME RENNOVATIONS...."

*3rd person*

"WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOME, MS. JENNIFER."

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JOLENE SMILED AS VIC HANDED HER THE KEY. She looked down, pure excitement in her glimmering brown eyes.

"Thank you so much for this, Vic." Jolene grinned as he leaned over to hug him. Before Jolene could realize what she had done, Vic hesitantly hugged back.

"Well, little lady, don't you move fast?" He joked. Suddenly, her eyes widened in realization.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry..." she tried to come up with an excuse. "That's how people... express gratitude... in France!" She lied through her teeth. Vic looked at her, interested.

"Well I'm not one to shit on a culture. Anyway, welcome to your new home, muchacha" He said to her in very bad Spanish. She chuckled at his wording, and got out of the car.

She took a few minutes to get her four suitcases out of his trunk, and she walked up into the side walk, struggling to carry all of them, which arguably was triple her body weight. Vic took notice in her exasperation.

"You need help, kiddo?" Her furrowed his eyebrows. Jolene looked up from her suitcases, smiling.

"Oh, you've already done more for me than I deserve. I promise, I'll manage." She said kindly. Vic hesitated, fighting the urge to help her anyway, but decided to respect her boundaries.

"Tiny but mighty. I respect that." He smiled at her.

He was being incredibly nice, and Jolene appreciated it astronomically, but she couldn't help but feel it was because she looked frail and pathetic.

Shaking away that vain thought, Jolene smiled once again. "All right, Mr. Vic. I guess I'll see you around?" She asked. Vic laughed.

"Oh, please, Ms. Jennifer, call me Vic." He said sweetly, causing Jolene to smile "And Probably! I live here!"

He started his car engine, and drove quickly into a very modern home, right across the street. Jolene just stared in shock.

It was a home she had seen before, but she couldn't quite place. She was getting the strongest sense of Deja vu. In fact, this is whole neighborhood evoked that feeling.

Everything looked so familiar, yet so new. So close, yet so distant. It tugged at her brain, as if it was a memory that she had repressed.

Why would I repress that?

She couldn't ask herself any more questions, although she had many.

It's just a new scene, ya dummy. Get inside your damn house already.

Damn. The voice inside her head was mean.

She listened to it anyway, and she found herself walking up to the porch. It was a wrap around, with a black banister, and it had two little white rocking chairs, made for two.