Two long hours later, I had reached my destination. Since I knew that I would need at least one full day to do what I was actually on this mission for, I knew I needed a place to stay the night. Plus, my grandparents wouldn't have a clue where I was because they didn't know this place, or the person in there. It was perfect. Stopping in front of the old diner, I noticed the blue paint peeling off the front of the building. The old white frames around the large windows and door were chipped and faded. The high roof was badly patched in quite a few places, and the old, brick chimney was crumbling. The glowing blue sign in the window had two letters out, so instead of saying The Nest, it read he Net. This place was in need of a serious renovation.

It was now around 5 o'clock, so I knew that if this didn't work out, I would still have a little bit of time to hopefully find another place to bunk. I really hoped that this would work. She might not even remember me, I thought to myself. This would either be a great thing for me or a horrible thing. I desperately hoped it would be the first of the two.

Walking in, I spotted Aunt Fannie immediately. Just to make sure, I checked her name tag which read Fannie. Aunt Fannie had a small frame, chocolaty skin, and gorgeous dark brown eyes. She wore a knee length, light pink dress with a full white apron and beat up white sneakers. Although she was kind of short, she had a temper bigger and hotter than the desert sun. Luckily, that temper had only been unleashed on me a few times when I used to stick my little toddler fingers in her cooking bowls at an attempt to taste the batter. "Get your fingers outta that bowl! I haven't cooked that yet, you're gonna get sick eatin' that batter." She used to scold me.

No, she wasn't really my aunt, but my mom and I had a history with her. After my mom divorced my dad and he abandoned us completely that October, Aunt Fannie kind of took us in. She came to live with us for the fall season, taking care of me while my mom got back on her feet at work. She ended up staying with us almost an entire year, helping with household chores and babysitting me. Even after she left, she still continued to visit us every so often. Mom always called her a gift from God, and I think she was. She's not blood-related, but she might as well be. Even though I was barely five the last time I saw her, I remember missing her for a long time after she left.

I walked up to the counter, wondering if she would recognize me. I intended to act like any other customer, for the time being.

When she noticed me, she turned her head and nodded at me, "I'll be with you in a sec, dear." She calmly stated, continuing whatever she was doing.

While I waited for her to return, I took in the restaurant. It was painted baby blue, and it had painted trees on the walls. Each tree had a few nests on it, and each nest had a little bird family in it. But as I looked around, I realized that one of the trees didn't have a nest in it. Even though there was no nest, there was a single baby bird perched on one of the branches. It had no mother, no father, and no family at all. How awful that must be, to grow up so alone.

I waited an eternal five minutes while trying to look like a normal human being. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, and my hands were shaking. This couldn't be that bad, right? I'll admit, the door started to look like a tempting escape. I could go back home, make up a believable story to tell my grandparents, and all would be right. Unfortunately for me, I realized that I couldn't tell them anything until I could speak again, plus I had no way home except for walking, and I could see that the sun was starting to set outside the window. Besides, I had come so far, this all couldn't be pointless, so I had to finish my mission.

"Alright missy, what would you like?" she questioned, looking at me with tired eyes. She had aged quite a bit since I had last seen her, and I started to doubt if I should trouble her. For now though, I just needed to lay low, make sure she didn't recognize me yet.

I pointed to the hamburger on the menu, and she quickly wrote it in her beaten notepad.

"Sure thing, that all?" she asked half-heartedly. I nodded.

"I'll get your cup," She replied, walking over to the kitchen. Placing it in front of me, she emptily stated, "Here you are, fountain is over there." She pointed to a soda fountain in a dark corner of the diner. Everything she did was straight and to-the-point. She had wrinkles on her forehead from many years of stress and worry. This was definitely not the same Aunt Fannie that helped my mom and me all those years ago, but I hoped that she would help me now. The last thing I wanted to do was cause her more problems, since things had clearly gone downhill since I had last seen her. Then it struck me, do I really even know this woman at all?