•••••094:

Austin protested Tracy's leaving, but ultimately Michael won the battle and Tracy was ensconced in a place of her own, a small condo in Huntington Beach close enough to walk to Rocks studio. It had four bedrooms, a bright cheery kitchen and dining area overlooking a golf course, close enough to the beach to walk as well.

When Tracy arrived the next day, miracles had been worked there. She walked into the small living room , nicely appointed with a cream and green patterned couch, and a papasan chair, a small entertainment center, and a coffee table that sported a couple of Ensign magazines. The living room led to the kitchen which didn't remind her at all of Austin's Malibu house, or her own Laguna beach place. It was just a small dining room, with a table and four chairs, two high chairs rested against the wall, and a small hutch against the other wall. There was a big sliding glass door leading out to the patio overlooking the golf course. (Did you think I could golf, Michael?) And the kitchen had simple oak cupboards already laden with dishes, pots and pans, food and baby supplies. Down the hall was a bathroom and a bedroom, already decorated with a little hot wheels bed, with a matching hot wheels quilt. Next to that room was a small office with a desk and a wall of bookshelves, a computer was already set up on it. Upstairs were two bedrooms on either side of the hall, and a long hall closet with mirrors on it. The one room was obviously meant for the twins, and had two cribs, and a small Noah's ark wallpaper border freshly put up, and matching mobiles over each crib. In Tracy's room, a queen bed with a pretty blue quilt was comforting, and very unfamiliar. A dresser had a photograph of herself and Raine at their wedding in the gulf. Another had a picture of herself, Raine, Richard and Austin, skiing, and she was told Austin had donated these to make her house seem more like home, knowing her penchant for framed pictures. A baby gate adorned the top of the stairs and identical swings flanked the entertainment center downstairs. She was set.

Michael followed her through the tour until she retreated back to the office area She'd seen the calendar, he thought. On her desk was a new day planner and a large desk calendar. He'd written in appointments on it.

She pointed rather listlessly. "This is today."

"February 12th, yes." He replied, hoping she wasn't about to object to his taking charge of her life.

"It says my mom moves in tomorrow."

"I bought her the condo next door. Right next door, honey. She can be here anytime you need her and the nanny is a live-in as well. She'll have her own rooms over at your mom's. Both of them can be here whenever you need them to be."

"It says here, on today, practice session at eleven, lunch with Andria at one, therapy at three.Therapy for what? With who?"

"Rachel."

Her eyebrows rose. "Rachel is here?"

"Yes. She's moved her practice again, and is in Long Beach. She'll be coming to Rocks to talk to you. So you won't have far to go."

"Then I have another practice session, with Jimmy and Greg?"

"Yeah, and then Greg is taking you to dinner and then home. You'll be gone all day."

"No."

"I thought you'd say that."

"I have to nurse the babies."

"I thought about that too."

"I'm not taking them with me on that kind of schedule. This reeks of Casey." She looked disgusted and flung her hand out over the calendar.

"That's why I've made an alternate calendar for when you reject this one." He lifted the first page and showed her the second.

Tracy bent to look at it. "Where is this place?" she indicated an address.

"Across the sidewalk. Look out the window. You only have to walk right across the sidewalk." She pulled the curtains back and looked.

"It's another condo."

"Yeah . I rented that one. I've set up a recording room. And a sound room. I've also got a couple of offices there for you to work so you don't have to leave the kids. Rachel will meet you here."

He noticed her visibly sigh in relief and was pleased. He knew his girl. "Danny's preschool bus picks him up at the comer, there are two other kids in preschool for him to walk with. They walk right there, one door down. They leave at 8:30 and get back at noon. Gives him a little time out with other kids his age. Janene checked it out, it's a good little preschool, not far away."

Tracy swallowed. "He wants to go to preschool."

"Yeah, it'll be good for him. Get some routine in his life."

"Nine to noon?" she mused.

"That's it, not long, you'll still have him the rest of the day. Gives you a little break too." She looked around and noticed a young woman standing just outside the door. "Yes?"

"I'm Robin Fisher, the nanny." She said and Michael went to shake her hand.

Tracy felt a little light headed, but decided to simply sit down on the provided desk chair and not make a big scene. Michael was walking down the hall away from her, and she could see he was talking to several women who she could hear described as cook and housecleaner. She wanted to meet them, but right now she just didn't have the energy. Robin, the nanny. Charlotte, the cook--- come in once a day to fix dinner, and Lacey the housecleaner, there for two hours a day weekdays only. Taking the worries and stress out of life. Danny in preschool with other children.

A phone on the desk rang. Tracy picked it up.

It was Coral, she wanted to take Danny on Wednesday's, as she had before. So, Tracy thought, on Wednesday's, like before, he would be gone. Life was taking routine, shape, complexity and schedule.

"Hey." She turned at the sound of a man's voice. Her eyes had to be forced up, it was Greg from her band. She stood on wobbly legs and he went to her and steadied her with a laugh. "You're looking good." He added a little shyly. "Haven't seen you since you were out to here."

They made some small talk until Michael came back in and asked her to tour the makeshift studio with him. Greg, with his longish brown hair tied back in a ponytail, his slim hip's and slender shoulders, the fingers thin and callused from playing guitar, ushered Tracy out the door, across the corridor between condos and inside the identical one across the way. True to his word, Michael had set up recording areas and one room was completely decked out with a piano, guitars, and drums. Tracy glanced around and tried hard to crack a smile. There was a lack of luster to her eyes though that disappointed Michael who had hoped to spur a download session.

He'd actually hoped that seeing Greg and Jimmy would make her want to practice, or at least jam around right then. But she nodded and left the room matter-of-factly. So he had to content himself with the fact that she was up. He called Rachel at her office and asked if she could meet them there in an hour.

Tracy went to look at the condo that would be her mom's and Robin's. "Robin, right?" she asked as they all walked. Michael was right behind her in just a few minutes.

"I can't believe what an awesome thing you've done for me, Michael. It's like you took a tangled mess and added a whole bunch of organization."

He smiled at her words, wishing there were more than a dutiful enthusiasm there.

"So, what do you want to do?" He finally asked her, having run out of things to show her.

"---can't tell you enough what this means to me. When I'm back on my feet, I promise to make it up to you."

"How about lunch?" he asked.

She nodded. "Can it be here?" she indicated the little condo. "I'm really tired."

Alarmed once again, as he had been when he'd first seen her at Austin's on the couch, looking more like a wet noodle than a pop diva or at least the girl he'd known, he took her arm. "Sure, honey. I'll have Charlotte whip us up something."

Greg was following them. "You want me to go back?" he asked Michael.

"What do you think Trace? Should he stay for lunch in case you want to play around afterward, or should he go back to Rocks?''

Tracy squinted, as if trying to make heads or tails of his words. She shrugged and cocked her head to one side. "l haven't really got any music." She said.

"Okay then ..."Michael breathed, this wasn't a good sign. No music wasn't Tracy. No music wasn't normal at all. He'd known her since she was twelve, a good eight years and not once had she not had music.

"Is this place pretty secure?" she asked as they went inside.

Michael ushered her to a seat on the couch as Danny came zooming out of his bedroom with several little cars in his hands.

"Secure as in safe?" he repeated.

"Yeah. I mean I guess I slept through the getting here part. I don't really remember seeing how we got in. Like was there a gate, or a lock thing? Somebody taking names?"

"Yeah, all of the above. It's very secure, and pretty private. You'll have neighbors, but as you can see, not too close. Most of these folks are wanting privacy as well. Like I said, the bus actually comes right into the shared living complex and picks up the kids, and they go to this little..."

She was staring at him in wonder. "Bus?"

"For Danny."

Tracy looked stunned. "Where's he going?"

Michael cocked his head to one side. "Don't you remember me telling you about that? It's all arranged. There's a little preschool that the kids around here go to. There's two on this block, two four-year-olds, Trace, that's the main reason we chose this place, that and it's security features."

She nodded, as if that all made sense, and she didn't admit that she didn't remember, so Michael let it go, determined to talk to Rachel first before she talked to Tracy.

He watched her eat lunch, which meant that he and Greg and Robin talked quietly and ate soup and sandwiches and chips and Danny sat up at the table and entertained them all. But Tracy sat there, she took a bite of soup, and put down her spoon, then she crumbled a cracker into it and took another bite, again put down her spoon and excused herself. She went up the stairs and when she didn't come back down Michael went to find her. He wasn't sure what to expect, but she had simply gone to her room and sat on the bed looking out the window at the golf course, toward the ocean which she could see from her window as well. Even then, her eyes weren't focused. It wasn't just Tracy being quiet, or Tracy being ill.

There was something vacant about her. He sat beside her. "Is it the house?"

"No. The house is perfect. You did so much for me, I can never repay you. I can hardly believe how comfortable you've made us. Danny is so happy, and everyone is so nice." But there were the underlying tears in her voice.

"Rachel's going to be here soon."

"Yeah. It'll be good to talk to her. You two keep in touch, like you did before, and maybe I can get back to work soon and you can make lots of money.''

"Trace, you know it's not the money... I've known you since you were a child, and you're not much more than that now."

"I feel old, Michael. I feel like Methuselah."

He laughed as Danny came running up the stairs. "Mommy, Mia woked up, her wants you." Tracy stood up with a smile, the first genuine smile he'd seen on her face. "I'll be okay. Michael. This place is great, you've done an awesome job. You're so thoughtful and the best organizer, you've thought of everything.''

"Quit blowing smoke up my ass. It isn't like you." Michael said and Tracy, who normally would have given him at least a dirty look for his swearing, simply glanced up and smiled wanly.

"I like the golf course, and the park. Did you see there's a bike path or walking path all the way around, and there's a pond, you can see it from here, and ducks."

Michael blew out his breath comically to show her what he thought of her words, but she didn't seem to notice. She was lost in her own reverie, he thought, a music-less reverie that didn't go any deeper than the surface of the grass outside. He realized she was withdrawing, pulling what she used to when Casey controlled her too much. She became the "image" the almighty image of what other people expected of her. Oh, how be wished she'd had a normal childhood, been a normal teenager, gone through normal experiences as a young adult. Instead, everything unfair and unusual happened to or around her. It had made her adept at denial.

Of living in the world, and not being of it, in the physical sense, not the spiritual.

"Of course you like the park." He said as calmly as his nature let him. "Okay. Are you going to finish eating?"

"No." she said.

"Rachel is over at the office. Do you want me to send her up here, or... out to your patio... or do you want to take a walk with her?''

She seemed to consider this detail seriously. Not in Tracy like fashion, who couldn't stand indecision or equivocating. Tracy was one who made split-second decisions . Michael felt his heart rate accelerate. He didn't want to lose her, but she did seem to be withdrawing right before his eyes.

"I think a walk would be nice, if you think Robin can handle the kids for a little while. She can always call me on the cell phone if she needs help, or they wake up hungry." Cell phone addition was new to her. She held it up calmly--- too calmly. Not the least bit interested in this brand new gadget.

"Right." He said in disgust. She was definitely not the girl he'd always known. Sure, she was concerned about her responsibilities, and that was commendable, but where was the spontaneity? Where the aliveness she was noted for? She seemed like a walking .... Zombie. That was it. That was what he wanted to tell Rachel. The walking zombie.

"I'll send her to your door." He said, turned and left her there, staring out her window toward the ocean. But she wasn't seeing the ocean. She was seeing a house on fire, with billowing black clouds, and falling embers crashing around her. It was a vision she saw all the time now. Every day, every hour.

*****