*****105:

Lorraine opened the front door, hoping that perhaps Tracy would have forgotten her decision to go surfing at five in the morning, and that she would be in bed and that she could easily go back to sleep. But to her chagrin, the kitchen light was on, and Tracy was sitting at the table writing something... instructions? When the door opened, Tracy folded whatever it was she was working on and slipped it into a drawer under the counter. Private then.

"Hi there." Tracy said softly, but with a kind of bright smile. She was already dressed in a bathing suit, a high-necked, black one piece that reminded Lorraine of a high school gym style.

"This is ungodly." Lorraine said and dropped onto the couch without any other preliminaries. "They're all fed and sleeping?"

"Yep." Tracy answered. "I just fed the twins and they both went back to sleep. They're not early risers yet, unlike me."

She opened the patio door and retrieved her wet- suit which was cold and damp from being outside. "Remind me not to leave this out back again." Tracy scrunched up her face in distaste.

"All right." Lorraine yawned, curling into her bathrobe and blanket on the couch.

"I'll only be gone like an hour. I got this waterproof pager. It's set to vibrate. If you need me, just press this button." Tracy showed Lorraine a device plugged into the wall.

Lorraine waved her hand and Tracy slipped out the front door, to raise the garage door by hand and retrieve her surfboard. It wasn't a long walk at all, out to the shore, just across a small grassy area. Her condo was set at the end of the street, in a circular area, so that all the houses surrounding hers were also owned by her. There was a gate at the end that allowed access to the sand, and Tracy easily unlocked it, and slid out.

It was even colder this morning than it had been yesterday, she thought as she walked sedately across the dark sand. But she was no stranger to dark sand, she'd been walking it all her life. Casey took her out when she was twelve, at five in the morning. Five in the morning wasn't weird for surfers. She threw the board into the shallow surf and tossed herself down as well. Her eyes adjusted to the dawn, and she relished the frothy spray, the chill Pacific, the bounce and lift of current. She paddled out, over the oncoming swells, only getting bit by one, white water, and going through another, not being ready to stand. She sat up, further out and wiped her stray hair out of her eyes.

Not too far away, she could make out a pair of other surfers. She knew they'd be there. They always were.

For awhile she concentrated on catching the waves, her thoughts straying from plans for the day, to Richard's call, to Austin's revelation, to her mother's arrival, to Greg's eagerness to record, to her determination to prove herself a good mother, and never let that sleepiness take her over again. She hadn't slept at all. But that wasn't as unusual as it might be in another person, she reflected. She usually survived on just a few hours of sleep. She usually had a routine. She usually had a day planned for herself that set a rigid schedule. It was her nature to be busy.

So, what had happened after Richard left?

I don't know, she thought. The pain was so intense, the aloneness so real. There was only one escape, and it felt like she had never slept before. She had honestly felt like nothing else mattered but sleeping. Was that depression? That's what Richard had said anyway, and he had been the first to bring it up.

Yesterday, that moment of panic, when the dawn and the thoughts of Danny had made her fear another fire... that had felt the same, compelling. As if nothing else was real. Was she losing her grip on reality?

A sigh escaped her. Her psych classes had touched on the grief process. The confusion, the anger, the denial. Where was she? Still in confusion. And the cycle could be repeated several times over many years before true acceptance was gained. Did she want to spend years grieving? Did she want to relive the fire and its aftermath every day of her life for however long she had to live?

There were just as compelling reasons there, up at the house, sleeping in little pink and blue beds, for her to rise to the occasion. But how did one know they were over it?

She knew she wasn't over it. How many times had thoughts triggered a crying spell yesterday? Too many. At least while she was sleeping, and nothing else mattered, then crying didn't matter either, she didn't even have to think about it at all. Not about losing Raine, her companion, her best friend, her lover....

Images floated threateningly close once again and Tracy focused furiously on the oncoming waves. Forget the images right now, she told herself. Stop picturing them....

But what? Replace them..... a gulp of tears overflowed without warning and she gave in. No one was here to see her, no one could hear her anguished cries out here....

No one would witness her awful self-pity.

Is this my life? Is this how it is all supposed to turn out? What am I supposed to do now? I had thought to be a stay at home mom, but with my career on the side. Now, where's the music? There is no music.... And the kids could be demanding, but these kids weren't. She adored these kids, they weren't demanding at all. But how was she to support them? What values was she to teach them? Would she do it alone? Where was her husband? They were supposed to be a team.... Weren't they supposed to be a team?

Pain seared her once again. It bloomed in her head and took her breath. Fear made her paddle toward shore once again. What if she passed out? What if her grief overcame her and caused her to become disoriented? It was a physical pain she battled... a headache, stomachache, lower gut wrenching pain that temporarily hit her. And it was blatantly associated with her thoughts...

She recognized now that the idea of escape was impossible and abhorrent to her, these questions were bound to come up. She wasn't one to ever lounge around in limbo... everyone around her knew it and expected her to respond to it, but how?

She flung herself onto the shore, allowing the tiny shore- line waves to lap her feet, out of danger... out of danger....

She was panting. She grasped the wet sand and flung a handful out to sea. "Dammit!" she cursed. "Dammit!"

And that was supposed to help? An inner voice scoffed. Cursing? Come on....

She picked up the board and trudged back toward her little condo. This time she put the board in the garage immediately, dried it off with a waxed towel, stripped out of her wet suit and took care of it appropriately also. She came in the back door.

Her mother, asleep on the couch, sat up blearily as she entered. "How'd it go?"

"Oh, fine." She managed, turning to the sink and bracing herself against the counter, getting a glass of water, even though she didn't want it, but needed to not be seen at the moment. "I think I'll shower, can you stay?" she made it to the stairs without any untoward suspicions aroused. Her mother answered affirmatively.

She ran the hot water, stripped out of the clingy bathing suit and stared at herself in the mirror hard. Skinny... she thought, I am getting too skinny.

She got into the shower feeling the shock of heat against her super-cooled skin. What? What am I to do now? How can I hear the music? How can I play the music? How can I support my family? How can I find peace?

She lathered her hair, and as she rinsed it out she imagined firm hands around hers once again. Raine's hands, helping her, his body standing close to her, the surreal effect of water on skin... wet skin on skin.... The newness of sharing this kind of love... how could she ever forget? How could she not long for him? How could she not....

Beyond any sense of firmness, the tears once again pushed past her barriers. I can't go on! I can't do this. I want to sleep. I want to escape.... I can't deal with this.

What is my life? What is my family? How can this be happening to me? It took her breath again. The sobs doubled her over, and she grasped her stomach and pushed against it as hard as she could.

******