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CHAPTER TWO

Sun glazed over the honey blonde as she gazed at the passing elements. They had ventured into what she had come to describe as “rich bitch” territory. While the house she grew up in was by no means small, these were triple the size. Why would anyone want to live in a house like that? It’s so impersonal and museum-ish. Could you imagine dusting that place? Cutting the lawn? Why would you subject yourself to that? Then it dawned on her -- they pay other people to do it. The people that live in these houses don’t take care of them, they just live in them. Buffy scolded herself at her momentary stupidity. Then, she scolded herself at her long-term stupidity.

Angel had convinced Buffy to move in with him. OK, fine. What he failed to mention was that they would be living in L.A. Angel couldn’t run the entire company hours away from it’s headquarters. Buffy had quit her job as guidance counselor at the local high school and packed her bags in mere days.

But her mother would of been proud. Buffy had always promised her mother that one day she would make something of herself and do something with her life. Buffy had bee a slightly difficult daughter. Her actions had caused them to move once, landing Buffy in Sunnydale. But she had gotten through the rest of her adolescence there, although with many dramas and threatened expulsions. And her mother’s diagnosis of a brain tumor had changed Buffy, including sending emotional waves of guilt crashing over her. Guilt over causing her mother so much unneeded pain for all those years.

But Buffy was moving on with the first man she ever cared for. Starting over elsewhere within what will soon be her new respectable family. At least Buffy assumed they were respectable.

For all that Angel knew about her, Buffy knew a disturbingly little amount about his personal life. Whenever she would try to ask he’d distract her then slip into another room. Buffy knew so little about him or his family, so that’s what she chalked up her unsure feelings and nervousness to. With a sigh, Buffy returned to the outside view.

The California sun cascaded onto the many terraces and reflected off the high windows of the surrounding homes. Buffy wandered if Angel lived in one of these.

They turned right up a gradual sloped road that climbed for a good three miles. What seemed to be groomed wilderness surrounded them on all sides. Nothing could be seen for miles, but green lush grass and well trimmed trees of a mixed variety. It was as if they had suddenly slipped off civilization and into a neat pasture.

Buffy wondered out loud, “I think it’s really nice that people keep some lands untouched don’t you? I mean, the idea of claiming vast amount of wilderness as your own, with no one else allowed to enjoy it? It’s unfair so many are left to cram into smoky cites. Don’t you think?” She turned to Angel, who simply smiled, eyes still fixed on the smooth pavement in front of them.

Buffy furrowed her eyebrows at his silence. He knew something and wasn’t telling her . . . no surprise there . . . and was that bush in the shape of a “G”? Something wasn’t right.

“Angel, what is this? What’s at the end of this road?”

“My house,” he simply replied. His answer did not make her feel any better.

“Oh, and this isn’t a road.” He paused at Buffy’s confusion. “It’s a driveway.”

TBC





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