She spent the night working, pacing, talking to herself about what a mess her world had become, or was still. It wouldn't change, unless it got worse. That was a fundamental rule of nature?what goes down, can always sink further. That was what she was experiencing. Her system of compartmentalization was failing. All of the compartments were getting mixed up; Todd was spilling into her "private thoughts" compartment. Roseanne was slipping into her "past" compartment. There was no room left. Everything was getting mixed up; her emotions were getting confused until not even she knew what she was feeling.

She had called Del's private phone number after she spoke to Roseanne. When he was on assignment that was the only way she could get in touch with him. Just as she suspected, he took charge and made all the decisions. He volunteered to find Enrique for Roseanne. She didn't tell him how she lost the baby, or who was the cause, only that it was gone. He asked no questions about the baby, but he did ask Tea if she planned on seeing Enrique once they found him. She laughed bitterly in the phone, saying only "hell no!" and promptly ending the conversation.

There was no sleep that night. Not that she knew of. There were "night dreams," the sister of "daydreams," only much more realistic. Combined with a tired mind, even the most unrealistic scenes seem plausible and even real. They were hallucinogenics without the drugs. Her eyes, they burned so, it felt like toothpicks had been used to hold them open. Though sleep would not find her, she tried. She tried to sleep, climbed into a sexy pair of silk boxers and a tank top, crawled into bad, bundled herself in her satin sheets and stared at the white ceiling. For an hour or more she just watched the blank, white canvas fill with what could have been, what may have been and would never be. Illusions. Dreams.

She was sixteen again. Sixteen with two things on her mind, getting out and making out. He was sixteen too. Tall and lanky, not nearly the athletic build he eventually grew into. He was all arms and legs, with a smile that melted her heart whenever he decided to display it and a soft gentle touch.

She lay underneath him, giggling a little, nervously anticipating what was to come. He hovered over her, telling her with his eyes that it was going to be okay. His hands pressed into the ground on either side of her, holding his weight so he wouldn't hurt her.

"Close your eyes" he instructed.

She closed them and felt the space between their bodies close. His lips brushed against hers?once?twice. His tongue traced the outline of her lips and gently parted them. She opened her mouth for him, letting him lead the kiss. First soft and gentle, then a little more aggressive. She was "experienced" in the art of sex, but not lovemaking. That was something else entirely, it involved much more than the physical being. His hair fell into her face, tickling her nose as he flicked his tongue over her nape.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes?"

He was nervous too. There had been many before her, never like what he was experiencing. He never loved any before her. His fingers fumbled with the buttons on her sweater, painstakingly slowly unfastening them. Kissing her with each victory. It felt so good; she couldn't help but lift her body up to him. He smiled at her, kissing her once again. The grass was cold against her back as he lifted her shirt from her body. When he felt her shiver, he took of his sweater and laid it on the ground beneath her.

"That better?"

"Yes."

He kissed her down her body, licked her nipples. Spelled his name across her stomach with his tongue. She was his, in every since of the word, she belonged to him. She lay still while he unfastened her skirt and threw it to the side. He stopped for what seemed like an eternity and looked at the light reflecting against her nakedness.

"You are so beautiful," he choked out, burying his head into her neck.

She lifted her legs and pulled him into her. They couldn't get close enough. "I love you," she said, as loudly as she'd ever said it before. It was a fact, something she was not ashamed of.

"I love you." Something in the way he said it back to her made her cry. She sobbed quietly into his shoulder, kissing his flesh wherever a tear landed. With each touch of her lips, he had to fight that much hard to keep from crying himself. "Shh," he whispered into her, "don't cry. Please, don't cry."

She kept crying, harder and harder until her well of tears was completely dry. "Don't stop loving me. I can't live without it. I can't live without you."

His fingers found their way to her silky, shiny patch, wriggling through the tangle straight to her moist core. He was so careful as he opened her legs a little wider and slid his index finger inside. In and out he moved, feeling her wetness increase with his touch. His lips never left her, her lips, her hair, her nipples that were erect for him.

"Mmm," she moaned, arching her back. She couldn't bear to be physically separated for him, had to have his body making contact with her. She wasn't sure what to do with her hands or mouth, or legs. Some things came naturally, some of her movements coincided with his.

He sensed her nervousness, felt her trembling when her hands touched him. "Shh," he whispered, "I want you to enjoy this. We have plenty of time, alright?"

She looked again at the sixteen year old who was moving on her ceiling. Then, she looked at the sixteen year old who lay on top of her. It was Todd.

She jerked herself out of bed and ran into the bathroom, trying to shake the thoughts from her head. If they had met sooner, would they have made it that far? Would he have been the one to save her? Would he have been there for her if it were their child she lost?

Why do you torture yourself like this, huh? Why do you always have to go back to the past and bring it right back into your life? Todd cannot save you. Nobody can save you. Tea, look at the mess you've made. They call it the "past" for a reason; get over it. Move away from it.

"I can't move away from it. I'm trying! I am trying but it's always there!"

What's there? The past? Your lessons? Haven't you learned from them or do you want to keep going over them again and again and again? That's what you're doing, you know? Did you not learn anything?

"I did. I learned I can't count on anybody but me."

Then count on you. Trust yourself.

"What if I'm wrong? What if I do the wrong thing?"

Then you're wrong. Then you've done the wrong thing. You learn from it and you move on. It's your life to live, mistakes and all. The only thing that counts is your happiness. If there's one thing in the world that'll make you happy, and everyone else has something negative to say, that's their problem, not yours.

"That's easy to say." She doused her face with ice-cold water, wishing it wasn't a dream or that her conscience was right. Happiness was the only thing that mattered. In the mirror, she stared at her reflection. She often did that, stared at herself not really looking for anything. Or maybe looking for anything familiar. Because she was the broken down stranger.

Awake she stayed for the rest of the night. Standing when she tired of sitting, sitting when she tired of standing. Never lying down because then sleep would come and she would have more "night dreams" of the impossible. Dreams of Todd, dreams of the little girl lost long ago, dreams of the trouble her life had become.

Todd used to do the same thing, stand, sit, pace to keep from going to sleep. She had trouble sleeping at the penthouse with him, although he never knew it. She would get out of bed after hours of lying on her back, tossing and turning. After all the sheep had been counted and stars wished upon, she would give up. Silently she moved, much like he, slithering down the hallway and to the top of the stairs, where she would sit down. He might be by the window and then, in a flash, on the couch and just as quickly, lying on the floor, tossing an old football into the air. She remembered those nights, and how she would fall asleep after watching him for so long. He would fall asleep too; she would awaken first and climb back to her bed like she had been there all along.

When the horns began to sound and the sirens began to blare, she sought solace in a hot shower. Longer than usual she let the water beat against her exhausted body. Why couldn't she, just once, experience happiness?

*****

LaGuardia Airport

The 747 taxied up the runway toward its designated gate. As it approached, Roseanne became more anxious, almost to the point of hyperventilation. She had to keep reminding herself to breathe slowly, exhale slowly, do everything?slowly.

It took her almost all night to drive back to Llanview. It was a straight shot, one road, fairly well traveled; yet she was driving it as if it were her first time. Things jumped out at her, like buildings she never noticed before, or the bent tree with the white trunk that glowed in the dark. She took notice of things she hadn't known were there before as she drove directly to the airport. She wasted no time booking the next flight to New York, and hopefully, to a place where she could receive some comfort.

It was a blessing that no one else was around her in first class. The last thing she wanted was for an annoying passenger to sit next to her, driving her crazy with useless conversation. There was no one to share her breathing space, monopolizing the oxygen to the point of near suffocation.

In the clarity of the day, when her mind was at its most alert, she was able to reflect on the past week or so since the weight had been lifted from inside her. The physical pain had long since disappeared, not that she felt much of it anyway. The doctor made sure of that, turning the IV knob this way or that, increasing her medication at will. She didn't feel anything. Not the prick of insertion. Not the vacuum like suction that pulled the life from within. Not the careful scraping they did. Not a damn thing. There wasn't a trace left.

There was only one place she thought of running. To Tea, away from Christian, to family, away from foes?to and from. Didn't know which one caused her to run the fastest, family or foes. It didn't really matter anymore. But Tea, she could understand. She would set aside the fact that they weren't all that close and be there for her whenever she needed. That was Tea. Dependable. Strong. Once she cared, she cared for life.

The butterflies in her stomach became a little more active the closer the plane got to the gate. She closed her eyes, savoring the last bit of "quiet time" she would have for awhile. Tea wasn't the kind to fuss, but she would be around, and she'd let you know it. Somehow, she'd do it without seeming smothering.

With a backwards jolt?she was there. The "fasten seatbelt" lights went out and everyone around her started moving, talking, reaching over, under, retrieving items that "may have shifted during takeoff." They became more distant, their movements quieted, she drifted away.

*****

"Excuse me, but could you check your passenger list one more time for a Roseanne Delgado? That's R-O-S-E-A-N-N-E D-E-L-G-A-D-O."

"M'am, we already told you that every passenger has de-boarded the plan. Maybe she took another flight?"

Tea's face turned red, reflecting her irritation. She had been arguing with airline personnel for twenty minutes trying to get a copy of the passenger list, at the very least have someone check the plane. "Look, if you don't give me that damn list now, and that young lady is on that plane, I will file a lawsuit so fast it'll make your head spin. Now for the last time and I'm going to tell you nicely?OPEN THAT FUCKING DOOR!"

The desk clerk stared at her; Tea unblinkingly stared right back, uttering Spanish curse words with her eyes. She didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't move a muscle.

"Give me a minute," he finally muttered.

"No need," Tea said, brushing past him and defiantly walking toward the plane. Two men stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

"It's okay," the desk clerk yelled over her shoulder. "Let her by."

They stepped out of her way and she quickly made her way down the tunnel and onto the plane. There, she saw Roseanne slumped back in her seat, eyes closed with tears streaming down her cheeks. Tea kneeled next to her, stroking clammy forehead. "Roseanne, sweetie, you're okay now. We're going to get you out of here and take you home."

"Tea, did you know she was a little girl? I was going to have a daughter. Can you believe it?" She asked, clearly dazed. "Someone was actually going to look up to me."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," Tea replied, feeling somewhat nostalgic.

"Were you going to have a little girl?"

"Yes, I was."

"You know what I was going to name her? I was going to name her Ashley Teita Delgado. Isn't that beautiful?" She began to cry at that, her tears scorching her fevered skin.

Tea felt her forehead again...her temperature had risen. She opened her eyes briefly; they were red and glossy. Slickly, Tea took her hand and ran her thumb across her pulse. It was racing.

"I know she had only been growing in me for a few months, but she was a part of me, you know? What happens now? What am I supposed to do now?"

"I don't know, sweetie. I have no idea, but I do know one thing. You are strong Roseanne. You don't give yourself enough credit. Just take it one day at a time."

"One day? It sounds so hard."

"Sweetie, we need to get you off this plane, okay? You're burning up with fever; you don't look good. Listen, we'll talk, we'll talk all you want but let's do it later."

Roseanne become dizzy as the lights above her seemed to dance. She moved her head around, wanting to melt into that light, drown within it. It seemed warm, cozy, safe compared to the coldness that surrounded her. Her head began to fall backwards, without her control. Her body seemed to become lighter and she?floated away.

*****

The Hospital

The paramedics burst through the Emergency Room doors, racing down the corridor. Tea fell in step behind them, following until someone blocked her path. The doors slammed in front of her, leaving only a window for her to peer through. She stood behind the glass, watching the men and women work frantically around Roseanne's bed. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were shouting at each other, moving things around, sticking?poking?prodding.

Roseanne had passed out while they were talking. It happened in slow motion, her eyes rolled backward, her head followed, and then went her body. Next thing she knew, the paramedics were out on the runway and working on stabilizing her. Words like "infection," "fever," "overexertion" trickled from their mouths and into her ears.

"Are you related to Ms. Delgado?"

Tea nodded her head, "yes," while continuing to watch through the window.

"We need for you to fill out some paperwork."

"Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"They're doing the best they can. We'll need some basic medical information from you, okay?"

Tea blindly followed the nurse down the hall, toward the admittance desk. There, she filled out the paperwork as best she could, not realizing until that time how little she knew Roseanne. Basic things she should have known, like her blood type, date of her last checkup, any medication she may have been using; Tea knew none of that. They were strangers.

Tea handed the clipboard to the nurse and went back to the room where they were working on Roseanne. Things seemed to slow down, the pace wasn't as fevered. She let herself relax a little.

The doctor emerged from the room, simultaneously removing her sterile cap and opening the door. Tea backed away, ready to inundate her with questions.

She recognized Tea first, giving her a slight smile. Tea looked back at her, not believing her eyes. So much time had passed; she thought they'd never see each other again. Yet there they were, years later, face-to-face.

To Be Continued...

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