-3-

Tracy let out a soft sigh as she threw in a bottle of shampoo into the suitcase. "Finally come to your senses and are going to leave that husband of yours?"

Whipping around, she came into contact with her eldest son, "Nice of you to remember who your family is."

Smirking at his mother, Ned Ashton walked in and came up behind her and kissed her cheek, "Nice to see you too, mother."

"I'm not leaving, Luke," Tracy declared as she looked at him, "He's my husband and I love him."

"He's a gold digger," Ned accused.

"So am I," his mother said, "so we make a great couple. And Luke isn't a gold digger, he's got money of his own, he takes care of himself and his children."

"Really?" Ned asked, "Since when? Because all I remember is a guy who would take off on a whim and leave his wife to tend to their children."

Sighing once more, Tracy went back to her packing, "I don't have time for this, Ned. I've got a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"That's my business."

Ashton sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. Leaning against a table, he watched as his mother packed, "Can you at least tell me where it is you are going?"

"No she can not," a voice said from the doorway.

Tracy and Ned turned around to see Luke leaning against the doorjamb. Looking at his wife, his voice took on a softer tone, "You about ready?"

Tracy nodded, "You speak to Laura?"

"I did."

His wife nodded again as she zipped up the small bag, "Okay, then, I'm ready."

Ned just looked from his mother to his step father--a relation that he still had a hard time adjusting too--with confusion on his face. "Will somebody please explain to me just what the hell is going on?"

"Ned, I promise, everything will be sorted out when we get back," Tracy said as she went over and kissed her son's cheek, "I love you, we'll see you in a few days. If you see Dillon, tell him I love him too."

"Tell Spielberg to stay away from my kid," Luke said.

"Let's go," Tracy said, nudging her husband out of the room with a sigh.

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Tracy and Luke sat in silence next to each other on the shuttle into Manhattan. After a twenty minute silence, Tracy sighed, "This is ridiculous. We've still got forty minutes, are we going to spend it not talking?"

Lifting a brow at his wife, Luke asked softly, "What do you want to talk about?"

"Well, we do have a child in common, perhaps we should talk about that."

"A child that you neglected to tell me about for almost thirty years," Luke pointed out.

Tracy sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of her nose, quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Luke. I was wrong."

"Yes, wife, you were." Luke agreed solemnly.

"I'm sorry!" She repeated, "I was young and stupid. Haven't you ever done something that you seriously regretted for the rest of your life when you were young?"

Luke immediately flashed back to a night. A night twenty-eight years ago.

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1979

Luke was barely aware of the fact that Laura Baldwin crawled on her hands and knees, sobbing, towards the door. Running his hands through his mass of blonde curls, the now rapist let out a cry of utter humiliation, remorse and self loathing.

Hearing the soft clicking sound of the door shutting, Spencer walked back around the bar and grabbed a bottle of his favorite poison, scotch. Unscrewing the lid, he quickly swigged down a generous swallow. Walking into his office, he slammed the door and settled down in the chair behind his desk for a long night of drinking.

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"Luke?"

Luke was jolted back to the present and he looked at his wife, softly, "What did you say?"

Tracy sighed quietly in annoyance, "Have you ever done something when you were younger that you regretted for the rest of your life?"

Hoping to skirt around the issue, he shrugged, "Doesn't everybody?"

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What was it?" Tracy asked.

Luke sighed, "Wife, are you ready to completely open up your life to me and let me go over it with a damn good magnifying glass?"

Tracy thought for a moment, "No," she admitted.

"Well, neither am I."

That said, the two fell back into the pattern they were in earlier, complete and total silence.