She liked being alone. Was sometimes better off that way, without the added pressure of looking out for that other person, looking after them better than she did herself. An old trick she had learned from childhood, from her mother. It was easier to do as she was told rather than to fight back. Women weren't supposed to do that sort of thing; their job was to honor their husband. Through thick, thin, and all the pain that would follow, "stick by that man," her mother said. Even if it meant losing yourself, love him. Even if it meant sacrificing your dreams, honor him. Even if it meant giving up everything you worked hard for, worship him. That was the one lesson she wished she had never taken away from her mother.

It led to a pattern. She saw how her father reveled when he got his way, whether he was wrong or not. She saw it, said nothing, and hated the way he gloated about a "man's world." It fueled her fire, but at the same time it took a large part of her away. It took a large part of her away.

Why couldn't everything be simple? Why did love have to come knocking on her door and disrupting the perfection that she had worked so hard to attain? Why did she answer its call? Why did it take her heart when he left without her? There were no answers, simple or otherwise, there was only a huge, empty void inside of her. Left by her father, left by those that followed, left by HIM.

Aloneness. That was something that was familiar and so unwanted. Everyone needed time alone, but to be completely alone was beyond the comprehension of most. They couldn't possibly understand the pain of waking up every morning to an empty bed and going to sleep at night with no one there to hold onto. No one and nothing, but a cold pillow to embrace. No, not many people knew what being alone really meant. It was more than quiet; it was a constant state of being. Being quiet. Being "in" quiet. Quiet night. Quiet. Shh?nothing. Never had she experienced such aloneness. It forced her to think about herself, where she was in life, where she was NOT in that same life. It put into perspective that if she was white, she may have received an invitation to a party or an opening gala; there would have been something to fill the empty nights.

Her father had been right about one thing. He told her repeatedly as a child, that she would never fit in.

"Put on all the makeup?wear their clothes?talk their talk?walk their walk?think you are one of 'them.' But, when it's all over, chica, when you take all that shit off, you're still you. Fucked up?dark haired?dark eyed?dark?YOU!"

She thought of that as she slid out of her Donna Karan stockings, out of the Chanel skirt, Armani blouse, Chanel jacket. She thought of it as she unhooked her Harry Winston earrings and unclasped her Tiffany gold and diamond necklace. She thought of it as she wiped off her Lancome lipstick, took her hair down from the Calvin Klein clip that held it away from her face.

It stayed with her as she slipped into a comfortable pair of old, nameless jeans and ratty NYU sweatshirt. Rang through her ears as she put on her favorite pair of slippers. With her hair hanging down, without the makeup, feeling completely at ease in her old clothes, she felt more herself than during any other point of the day. There was no need to paint on a smile, because there was no one to pretend to be happy for. There was no need for pretension, as it would be wasted.

There was nothing on the television to watch. Nothing on the radio to listen to. She had called Todd earlier, only to hear his voice on his voice mail. A little depressed, she left a quick message, nothing that could be misinterpreted, just one concerned friend calling another concerned friend.

As she sat on her couch, surrounded by law books, case studies, research material, her career, she realized that her career was the only thing she truly had. The one thing that was a constant in her tumultuous life. Then she realized, that it meant nothing. The law degree was nothing more than a resounding "FUCK YOU" to everyone who said she'd never amount to anything. The penthouse was nothing more than more proof that she was sitting high atop the world, ready for whatever came next. Everything she'd fought for in life meant nothing anymore, not because she missed Todd or wanted him back, but because they didn't change who or what she was.

Del once told her that if she owned the world, she'd pay with her soul. It had no significance at the time, but it was all very clear. She might rise to the top and have all the things that her heart desired, but she'd never be happy.

The message light on her telephone blinked off and on a hypnotizing red. Rhythmic red. Her eyes could only focus on that blinking red. Even as she went to press the button, she sensed a wrongness, or perhaps feared something else entirely. Intuition was kicking in again, the red, significant red.

"Here goes nothing," she sighed.

She heard the panic sounds coming from Roseanne as she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. "Tea?oh God?I've lost him?it hurts?it hurts so bad?Iwannadie?.I don't?wannabehereanymore?he's gone?they're both?gone."

"Shit," Tea said, knowing immediately what the feeling was that she felt in the middle of her stomach. All day she felt a bit queasy, but it could have been anything. Usually, it was Todd and she had been trying to reach him all day. Never did she suspect that the feeling was because of Roseanne and the loss of her child and the loss of Christian. She shook her head as she remembered being exactly where Roseanne was emotionally. She had experienced that profound and life altering loss. And it all came back to her like a deja vousish nightmare. Her life had been scarred, or was it ruined? Could have easily been either.

She quickly dialed Carlotta's number, trying to get her thoughts together before the phone was answered. Things hadn't been good between them, since Roseanne had become pregnant. The bridge that connected them seemed to have crumbled ever since Roseanne became pregnant, and neither worked particularly hard to repair it. Tea took Roseanne's side, arguing that it was the responsibility of both parents to care for the child, never mind who was supposedly at fault. Tea also fought for a woman's right to choose. Carlotta was from the old school. According to her, it was Roseanne's responsibility to have that child. It was her duty to marry the father and raise the child with him. "Duty," that was Carlotta's word. Tea simple used the word "choice."

Carlotta sounded winded when she picked up the phone. Tea was quick and to the point. "Hi, Carlotta. What's going on?"

"Tea? Where have you been? Everyone has been trying to reach you."

"I'm just now getting Roseanne's message. What's going on?" Tea asked, scribbling co centric circles on a scrap piece of paper.

Round and round we go. Beginning. End. Right back to where we start.

"Tea, she lost the baby. It's been a couple days now, she's not doing well."

"What the hell do you expect?" Tea abruptly stopped in the middle of a circle, her pencil sliding off the paper.

Carlotta gasped, shocked that Tea spoke with such anger toward her.

"Is she okay physically? And how's Christian?" She continued.

"She'll be just fine. The doctors said she'll be able to have other children. Christian, he's not doing too good."

Tea sensed that there was something she wasn't being told. Her lawyer instincts prompted her to probe deeper. She was a little worried by Carlotta's tone, something was "off." She was still strong, but there was pain in her voice, it shook a little. "Where is Roseanne?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Weren't you taking care of her? What's going on? What are you trying to keep me from finding out, huh?" Tea's voice had risen, as had her body as she paced up and down the wood floors, rotating the pen she still had in her hand. She moved soundlessly, her sock covered feet slid easily across the shiny coating.

Carlotta paused, took a deep breath and told Tea the entire story. Roseanne had run away after losing the baby. Having grown to love the child deep inside her, she was devastated by the loss. It might have been somewhat easier to handle if it had happened differently. If the man who had given the child, and to a lesser extent, her, life hadn't been the cause of two "deaths." That's the way she put it in the letter she left.

It was an accident, Carlotta assured her. Things sometimes happen when control is lost. It doesn't make a person evil, she said. Everyone is human, she justified. She would defend him until the death, Tea surmised, surprised at how Carlotta could so easily stick up for her son when she used to fight every decision Tea made with the men in her life.

Somewhere along the line, she drowned out the sound of Carlotta's voice and heard her own young voice, pleading for forgiveness.

Tea's eyes opened to the bright, fluorescent, hospital lights, burning her cornea. She looked around, frightened by the sounds and sight of the machines surrounding her. She was alone. She lifted her arm up to her brow to wipe away a trickle of sweat. The plastic from her wristband tickled her skin.

Where am I, she thought? How did I get here? She was sore down there. Every muscle hurt with every twitch, every turn. She lay there, very still for it was what she had been taught.

Stay still. Don't move. Children should be seen and not heard.

Someone in a white dress walked through the doors and started messing with the machines. Through tired and drugged eyes, Tea watched her write things down on the silver chart, shaking her head and making a "tsk, tsk" sound with her lips. Another person came in, wearing the same white uniform. The two of them spoke in hushed tones, but she could still hear them talking about her.

"How typical."

"Don't they ever learn?"

"The need to have birth control."

"Perfectly good money wasted on people like that."

The whispered so many things thinking she was asleep. But she heard every word. She filed it in her mind, used it as a motivator. Used it to prove them wrong.

Then came Enrique, standing over her bed dressed from head to toe in black. At first, she mistook him for the Grim Reaper, hoping that maybe death was letting her through her door.

Come and get me. I'm ready; there's nothing left for me here.

"Teita, you're not the good one anymore. You're tainted for life. Men will pick up on that, and they'll turn their backs to you."

"No they won't Enrique. They'll understand?they'll?they'll help me."

"Oh yeah? You think so? Where's the boy who knocked you up? I don't see him around? He doesn't care about you. All that mattered was getting you in bed and you made it so easy. You're ruined."

They had been arguing ever since Roseanne got back from Jamaica. Carlotta's version was that Roseanne had been acting strangely ever since she arrived back from New York. She became "mouthy," that was Carlotta's word. Tea suspected that Roseanne just decided to say what was on her mind, regardless if whether it was within the constraints of a "woman's place." She was "difficult," Tea suspected that she did what she wanted to do. One night, it became too much for Christian and they got into another argument. It was about nothing really, just her unwillingness to say "how high" when he said "jump." They were arguing at the top of the penthouse stairs. He said she tried to hit him and lost her balance. Fell down those stairs, feet over head. Crashed against the floor with a resounding "thud," lost consciousness, lost the child she loved.

Tea didn't bother to argue with her. There was no arguing to be done, neither would change their mind nor place the blame elsewhere. It was funny, the way Carlotta was so quick to judge Todd and the other men that had floated in and out of Tea's life, yet she was unwilling to hold her son up to the same standards.

The only thing Tea asked was if Carlotta had any idea where Roseanne might have gone. When she said "no," Tea politely ended the conversation and threw the cordless phone against the wall, watching it shatter before her. "Goddamnit!" she yelled.

The day she left the hospital from losing her child, she ran off to the park. The park had a calming effect on her, the sounds had a calming effect on her. Roseanne had probably done the same thing, run off to some place that "calmed" her.

*****

Late that Night

The ringing of the phone startled Tea as she rolled sleepily over and reached for the telephone. She was alert for someone awakened from a deep sleep. The first thought that went through her mind was that it was the police calling to let her know something had happened to Todd. "Hello?" she mumbled into the receiver, rolling over onto her back.

"Tea? It's me."

Roseanne's voice took her by surprise, causing her to sit straight up in bed. She turned on the nightstand lamp and grabbed a pen and pad that she kept nearby. "Where are you?"

"I'm okay," she said shakily.

From experience, Tea knew that she was far from okay, and would never be okay again. She was probably three quarters of the way to a nervous breakdown. "Roseanne," Tea spoke softly and slowly, "tell me where you are so I can come and get you."

"I don't really know. I just got in the car and took off. I'm okay though, so don't worry."

"Where are you going?"

"Away from Llanview. Tea, I can't believe I killed my own baby. I can't believe that it happened. It's over now. It's over for me and Christian and our baby. Shit," she cried into the phone. She was barely holding it together on her end.

"Sweetie, you've got to get yourself together. Listen to me. I want you to turn around, go back to Llanview Airport and get on the first plane to New York. You're coming to stay with me for awhile. No arguments."

"Tea, do you know where my father is? I feel like I need to be with him right now. I need to feel my daddy's arms. I need to cry on his shoulders. Tea, can you find him for me? I need my father."

Tea's heart broke at Roseanne's pleas. She felt the same way after she lost her child. All she really wanted was her father's arms around her, telling her that it would be okay. But he was the cause for her loss, and she had to deal with it alone, or almost alone. Del did the best he could, but he was not her father. After a long silence, she said, "I'll do what I can. Just come out here and I'll see what I can do. I promise you, Roseanne, I will do the best I can to find your father."

"Thank you," Roseanne sniffled into the phone.

To Be Continued..

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