Theresa ignores the catcalls and whistles. Head held high, she walks past the boys, who are barely men, and up to a man who must be the supervisor.

"Is Eddie here?" she asks. She can feel the guy's beady eyes study her body.

"Yeah," he answers, after a gauche moment. "I'll go get him."

Theresa drums her fingernails against the metal pole she is leaning on. She sees the eyes greedily soaking up her full figure. She's begun to show, but only a little. These men seem to like her plumpness, like they're used to it.

"Theresa." Eddie's smooth voice surprises her. She turned around to see Eddie, jumpsuit and all, grease stained hands, but there he is. She hasn't seen him in a little over two months, ever since Ryan came...

"Hi, Eddie," Theresa accepts Eddie's hug. It's awkward, he must know it too. She breaks apart.

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" Theresa wrings her hands together. They're so small compared to Eddie's. So clean, so smooth, unlike his rough, charred ones.

"Go ahead." Eddie casually leans against the metal pole, trying to keep the smug look off his face. All the other guys have stopped their work and are staring at Theresa. She's most likely come to take him back. Oh, he'll come back all right, as long as that son of a bitch Atwood is out of the picture.

Theresa plays with her fingers, eyes downcast. "Eddie, have you seen Ryan? He disappeared a few days ago and I'm worried."

"No," Eddie spits at Theresa. The bitch thinks he had something to do with Ryan's disappearance? He would've liked to, but he had no idea Ryan was missing. Until now. "What makes you think I would know?"

 "I—I just thought, you guys used to be friends, maybe he said something to you..." Theresa bites her plump, pinkish bottom lip.

"Don't fucking blame this on me," Eddie says. "It's not my fault if he abandoned you."

"Eddie, he's not like that," Theresa insists. Eddie wraps his arms around Theresa.

"I'm sorry, Theresa. I didn't mean it like that." Even though he did. "Look, why don't I help you look for him?" He leans in for a kiss.

Theresa recoils from his touch. "Eddie, what are you doing?"

"I thought you came here to make up with me," Eddie leans in for another kiss but Theresa moves her head sideways and he gets a mouthful of her hair. "I thought you wanted my help, wanted to be with me."

"I've got to find Ryan." Theresa kisses Eddie on the cheek and struts out of the factory like she owns the place.

The bitch loves him. She really fucking loves him. Eddie knows Ryan doesn't love her, and he's pretty sure Theresa knows it too. Fuck her. She could've been with him, he really loves her. Instead she's wasting her time on a guy who is probably lying dead in an alley. This is not the Theresa Eddie knows and loves. She is a shadow of the girl she used to be.

---

Theresa picks up the phone on the first ring. It's Kirsten.

"Any word?" Kirsten's voice is hushed, like she's speaking privately.

 "Not yet," Theresa says. She wants to talk to Eddie again, and some of Arturo's friends too. They were all friends, so maybe they know something. If Eddie won't tell her, she'll find out from someone else. That is, if they do know.

"Oh." The disappointment is unmistakable. "I've got to go. Call me as soon as you hear something, okay, Theresa?"

"Okay." Theresa feels bad about lying to Kirsten; she's been through enough already. But she wants to find something, anything, it's better than going back to the Cohens empty-handed. If she does, they'll think she doesn't care. And she does...care, a lot.

--

Theresa rises with the sun. It's her own time, her own world, before anyone's awake and while the earth moves slower, almost lazily. Time seems to pause for hours, days, weeks. Theresa wishes she could stay in her time forever. No one disturbs her, no one reminds her of her problems.

She grabs a banana for breakfast; the last thing she needs is Dolores on her case about proper nutrition for the baby. The baby. Ryan's gone. The baby. Eddie's a jackass. The baby. The baby...what got her into this whole mess.

Unbolting the door, Theresa slips out, ears ringing as the screen door squeaks. Damned door. The netting is torn even more than before. Ryan never fixed it. She was always on his case, too. Maybe she shouldn't have bugged him about it. He was tired, overworked, and underpaid. It wasn't fair. But Theresa's whole life had been one big un-fair parade, so it was only natural that Ryan's became the same when he came to live with her.

The streets are quiet, cool, before the morning rush, before the heat. She'll wait there until seven, that's when the stragglers come in. She wants to ask each and every one, just in case.

Theresa sits, drinking her coffee, waiting for Eddie and his cronies to come in for their daily caffeine fix. Complain as they might about money being tight, they still find $1.36 for coffee every morning.

Juan enters the coffee shop, eyeing Theresa as if trying to place her. "Theresa?" he asks tentatively, walking over to the pregnant girl...no, she's a woman now. Definitely not Arturo's baby sister anymore.

"Juan." Theresa's face lights up. He was always nice to her, way back when she wore pigtails and believed in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters.

"How are you?" Juan asks, walking over to the counter and placing his order but keeping his eye on Theresa.

"Okay," Theresa answers. Juan pays for his coffee and sits down across from Juan. "Juan, can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, chica," Juan says, grinning his toothy smile. He always had the whitest teeth, the straightest teeth; how they stayed that way, Theresa couldn't fathom, for Juan chain-smoked and did his fair share of drugs in his teenage years.

"Have you seen Ryan?"

"Shaggy blond hair, kinda short, bright blue eyes?" Juan asks, sipping the hot liquid.

"The one and only," Theresa smiles, but Juan can tell she's trying hard not to break into tears.

"Then no." Juan pauses, studies Theresa's face. She's a little rounder than the last time he saw her, but pleasant to look at nonetheless. "Why, he missing?"

Theresa nods her head, takes a sip of her coffee. "For a few days now. I tried to ask Eddie but he said he didn't know anything about it."

Juan shakes his head in understanding. He's heard about the baby, Eddie's jealousy, and Ryan's willingness to be the baby's father, whether biologically or not. "I'll ask around," he offers. Theresa's face lights up like a moonbeam again. "How's about I meet you here tomorrow?"

"Okay," Theresa says, as Juan stands up. He places his hand over hers for a moment, and then heads out the door.

--

Theresa returns home at 7:45 to find the answering machine blinking. Three unheard messages.

Theresa, it's Jorge. I need you for a catering job tomorrow night. Call me back soon as you get this.

Theresa, hi, it's Sandy. Um, don't tell Kirsten I called, because I know we said we were going to wait for you to call, but I just wanted to know if you heard anything yet. Call me back.

Theresa, hi, it's Kirsten. Uh, don't tell Sandy I called, because I know we said we were going to wait for you to call, but I just wanted to know if you heard anything yet. Call me back.

Theresa dials Jorge's number. "Jorge? It's Theresa."

"You busy tomorrow?"

"Nah."

"Be here at eight. It's a brunch in Newport Coast."

"Kay. Thanks for calling me, Jorge." She picks up the phone again, begins to dial the Cohens' number. But she doesn't really know what she'll say. She's come to a dead end already, and she hasn't even begun her search. She won't fail; she's determined to stay strong, like Ryan would.

Juan has been most helpful and Theresa hopes he doesn't expect anything in return. Anything, as in sex, drugs, money…Theresa's head swims around the endless possibilities.

The other guys were sympathetic to Theresa's cause and promised, just like Juan, that they'd keep their eyes peeled. Somehow, Theresa doubted they would remember, and even if they did, she figured their search would be fruitless.

Theresa heads into the kitchen. She'll make tortilla de patatas; her mother loves the dish, and it's simple. She opens a cabinet and begins to root around for the ingredients.

She heats the oil in a pan, adds the potato slices one at a time. She layers the onions in, ignoring the tears forming from the pungent smell. After the eggs have been added to the potatoes, she spreads the mixture across a second, larger skillet. The potatoes start to brown so she adds a bit more oil and flips it over. Once it's done, she sets it aside on a flowered plate to cool. They can heat it up later.

Theresa turns off the stove and heads outside. The house is relatively clean; there's no point in re-dusting or sweeping. She sits down on the front stoop, feeling the steps sway beneath her. Maybe this wasn't a good idea...

Theresa looks over and sees Mr. Gonzalez's house. Maybe Ryan's been there...either way, Mr. Gonzalez surely needs groceries and the like.

Theresa runs back inside the house and slips on a pair of black sandals she got on sale. She didn't really need them, but they were cute, feminine, and only $3.45. Ryan's shoes probably cost at least 30 times that...and Theresa doesn't even want to think about how much Kirsten and Marissa's shoes probably cost. She's heard of shoes that cost hundreds and hundreds of dollars, just because they're attached to a brand name. It's ridiculous, and it makes Theresa sick, when she thinks of the amount of money they spend on shoes. She desperately needs that kind of money.

A tentative knock on the door, and Theresa is ready to go back to her house. At least she tried...but then the door is opening and Mr. Gonzalez's face peers out warily from the screen door. His screen door is in perfect condition, Theresa notes.

"Theresa?" the man opens the door. He looks pale and thinner than she remembers.

"How are you?" Mr. Gonzalez ignores her question.

"Where the hell is that boy?"

"I haven't seen him since almost five days ago," Theresa admits.

"He came to visit me four days ago, he brought me groceries," Mr. Gonzalez says, putting his arm around Theresa and guiding her into the house. He closes the door, not bothering to lock it. Ryan was always on his case about locking it.

"Oh," Theresa says, somewhat shocked. So Ryan was around four days ago. She had no idea whether he was still in town, or lying dead somewhere. For all she knew, he could be in jail for some unknown reason, like helping an old friend steal a car. "So you haven't seen him since?" She feels a little neglected; why wouldn't Ryan come to see her after he disappeared, like he came to see Mr. Gonzalez?

"Can't say that I have." Mr. Gonzalez disappears into the kitchen and comes back out with two steaming mugs of tea. "I was in the middle of making tea."

He hands Theresa a cup and she gratefully accepts it. "I--I just don't know where he would've gone. And why," Theresa says. She's got a feeling that she knows why he left...but to where...she's got no idea.

"Theresa." Mr. Gonzalez places his hand on hers. "Sometimes the people we love, leave. And sometimes they don't come back." Saying it doesn't make it hurt any less.

Theresa shuts her eyes as the salty tears sting her face. "I know..." she says finally, "but it's not fair to me, or his family. He had a family, Mr. Gonzalez. You know that? A true family, they didn't hit him, and they loved him a lot. How could he leave them?"

Mr. Gonzalez shakes his head. "I don't know. We can't always explain people's actions. But you've got to understand that the boy was under an enormous amount of pressure. He's barely legal, already working harder than he should have to. He's got a baby on the way, and I'm sure he regrets leaving the Cohens behind. And you. But there are reasons, Theresa."

Theresa knows that Ryan has talked with Mr. Gonzalez, about the Cohens, his life, and probably her. He probably even told Mr. Gonzalez that he was leaving. Ryan's not stupid though; Theresa knows he didn't...wouldn't tell Mr. Gonzalez where he was going.

She sighs. "I--it's just...what am I going to do? My mother and I barely make enough to scrape by, and even with Ryan working it wasn't enough."

"You'll find a way." Mr. Gonzalez winks. "I hope that unlike Ryan you'll be willing to accept gifts instead of acting too proud." He wants her to ask the Cohens for money. Or, at least take the money they offer. Theresa knew that they were sending Ryan checks--blank checks, even. That's how much they trusted him. But she also knows that not once did Ryan cash the checks. Not once. Not even one check that would pull them out of the water. He was too proud. Instead, he'd sent them back.

Theresa nods her head in understanding. "I guess," she sighs. "I guess it doesn't matter if Ryan would be angry about it or not...since he up and left without thinking of us."

"That's not true, Theresa. I'm sure he was thinking of you. Maybe he thought your life would be better without him." Mr. Gonzalez smiles sadly.

Ryan was too proud for his own good. He was trying to help, but he didn't.

"Thanks, Mr. Gonzalez. Now, what can I get you from the grocery store?"

--

Theresa doesn't understand why Mr. Gonzalez could possibly need three pounds of hamburger meat, but whatever. It's his money, and she's just doing him a favor. In the checkout line, Theresa is absentmindedly reading a tabloid when someone taps her on the shoulder. She turns around. It's Eddie.

"Hey," he smiles.

"Hi." A forced smile on Theresa's part.

"Have you heard anything about Ryan?" Eddie asks, seemingly interested. Theresa is very aware of Eddie's hand, which is resting on her shoulder. She takes a step forward to rid her shoulder of the hand, but surprisingly it stays.

"No," Theresa finally answers, trying hard not to look Eddie in the eye.

"Look, babe..." Eddie's voice has dropped, it's softer, sweeter, more like the Eddie Theresa was going to marry. "I love you. Let me help you look for him. But, just 'cause he's missing doesn't mean you can't be happy..."

Eddie thinks he's so slick. But he's not. Not to Theresa, anyway. How dare he try to make a move on her when Ryan is missing! It's almost as though he doesn't care...and he probably doesn't.

"Babe, think of it like this. Ryan's your close friend, he'd want you to be happy. Besides, I doubt he's coming back, not for a long time." Theresa stares at Eddie in disbelief. Eddie has no right to make assumptions about Ryan's coming home...or rather, not coming.

The cashier has rung Theresa's groceries up, and she hands him the wad of bills from Mr. Gonzalez. She takes the change and wheels her cart out of the store. Turning around, she sees Eddie open his mouth to say something.

"Don't bother," she tells him, and leaves.

--

Theresa is waiting in Mr. Gonzalez's living room. After helping him put the groceries away, he told her to wait in the other room for a minute. She studies the old, yellowing photographs and pictures on the walls of the small room. The wooden floor is also faded, and Theresa winces when she steps on a loose floorboard. It lets out an annoying creak, another painful reminder of the broken screen door Ryan never fixed.

Mr. Gonzalez comes out with a large paper bag filled to the brim. "For you, and your mother."

Theresa shakes her head. "No...I can't, Mr. Gonzalez..."

Mr. Gonzalez laughs insistently. "Do you really think I'd eat three pounds of meat?"

"Thank you, Mr. Gonzalez," Theresa says politely, laughing inwardly.

Mr. Gonzalez walks her to the front door. "Thank you, Theresa. Come by any time, you hear me?"

"Yeah." Theresa walks down the rotting wooden steps and crosses the lawn, overridden with weeds and clovers. She balances the heavy bag on one arm and opens the creaking, torn screen door again. If only she hadn't bothered him every second...it was just a screen door, after all.

Entering the house, she sets the groceries down on the counter, and sits down in a kitchen chair for a moment. She'll just rest for a moment...

"Theresa?" Dolores' voice squashes Theresa's plans for a quick nap.

"Yes, ma?" Dolores enters the kitchen, looking at the bag of groceries suspiciously.

"What's that?"

"I went shopping for Mr. Gonzalez today," Theresa explains. "He had too much, so he gave us some..."

"Theresa, how could you take from him?" Dolores asks, flabbergasted.

"Ma, it wasn't like that. He gave it to me. I told him I couldn't accept it, but he wouldn't take no for an answer." Theresa begins to unpack the groceries and put them in their respective places.

Dolores considers this. "Fine," she finally says, but the wrinkled corners of her mouth turn down. "Have you heard from Ryan?"

Theresa shakes her head, and Dolores frowns. "Mr. Cohen called today."

"And...?"

"Nothing," Theresa sighs and places the two pounds of hamburger meat in the refrigerator.

"What did he want?" Dolores asks. "Surely he wanted to kn--"

"Ma! Just...he just wanted to know if I'd heard from Ryan."

Dolores clucks her tongue disapprovingly. "You told him? Theresa, that man has enough to worry about without you getting him involved in this."

"Ma!" Theresa glares. "Ryan was like a son to the Cohens, and a brother to Seth. I think they want to know, they deserve to know if something's happened to Ryan."

"Such impudence!" Dolores clucks her tongue again. "In my day, if we spoke like that to our parents, we'd get a..."

"...Whipping. I know, Ma." Theresa rolls her eyes and walks out of the kitchen. She enters her bedroom. She and Ryan had been sharing it. The rough, unfinished oaken desk is in the corner, a small lap on it. Ryan had been planning to glaze it over with a honey colored wood finish.

Theresa slips off her inexpensive sandals and walks across the hall to the bathroom. Ryan's towels are still in there, hanging on the towel racks to dry. Theresa sniffs as she pulls the white towel to her face, breathing in Ryan's post-shower scent. This is all she has left of him, for now. Hopefully her arms will be able to hold Ryan the next time she smells his bodily fragrance.

The shower beats down relentlessly on Theresa's tanned skin. She scrubs the nonexistent dirt off her body, imagining that she is Ryan. He comes home with the grime clinging to skin; even after a shower Ryan cannot manage to escape the filth. It is a part of his life now, their life, the life that he's trying to build for their baby. The life that he so carefully planned and stacked that is now falling apart.

Theresa doesn't even realize she's crying until the water pressure trickles down and she gives up on a long, relaxing shower. The water streaming down her face after the shower's been turned off is salty against her lips, stinging and biting. She licks her lips to draw in as much of the taste as she possibly can, for it reminds her of Ryan.

There were nights when sweat mixed with saliva and the tears of sheer pleasure passed from Theresa's mouth to Ryan's. Those days are over though. The nights are gone and so is Ryan.

Toweling herself off, Theresa walks back into her room, turbaned. She goes over to the dresser and opens one of three drawers housing Ryan's clothes. A few of the clothes are gone; Ryan must've come back while she was out and taken a few necessities. She can't help but shiver for Ryan breathed this air God knows how long ago.

Maybe he even came back yesterday, he's near, Theresa can almost smell him if she tries hard enough. She knows she's only kidding herself. Ryan probably came back when he went to Mr. Gonzalez's house and she's only smelling the Ryan imbedded into his clothes.

She takes out a pair of Ryan's sweatpants and a drab gray t-shirt. On second thought she folds the clothes and replaces them in the drawer. No, Theresa tells herself, Ryan might come back and she wouldn't want his clothes to be out of place, or smelling like her. He might come back when she's asleep and if she's wearing them he can't really take them now, can he?

Again, she's only kidding herself. Ryan wouldn't risk it. He wouldn't come back, knowing full well that Theresa and her mother were in the house. He's not coming back, period. Theresa can kid herself all she wants but the facts remain facts.

"Theresa?"

"Yes, Ma?" Theresa closes Ryan's drawer and quickly puts on a pair of her own pajamas. They're covered in small flying pigs and Ryan used to tease her without end about them. Her rounded stomach peeks through at the bottom and the pant legs would convince anyone that she was preparing for a flood but Theresa doesn't care.

There's no one to impress around here, no one to be mindful of. Her mother certainly doesn't care and Ryan's not here to care.

"Eddie called while you were in the shower," Dolores tells her daughter. Theresa enters the kitchen where Dolores is stirring a mug of coffee. The steam swirls up into her face, clouding the tanned, wrinkled skin slightly and making the woman's eyes tear.

Theresa sighs and walks over to the phone.

"Do you want anything?" Dolores asks while Theresa dials.

Theresa shakes her head no and presses the phone to her ear.

"Let me make you a cup of coffee," urges Dolores, and Theresa waves her off.

"Hello?"

"Theresa, that you?"

"Uh-huh."

Eddie pauses and Theresa can hear him breathing raggedly and she wonders if he's drunk or getting into fights, or both.

"Well?" Theresa taps her foot impatiently against the linoleum floor of the kitchen, her mother clucking disapprovingly as she pours the coffee into a cup for Theresa.

"I want a second chance, Theresa," Eddie finally says, just as Theresa's decided to hang up. She stays on the line, catching the end of his statement. She hasn't heard it all but she's heard enough to know what he wants.

She sighs. Eddie is just like the showerhead: relentless. "Eddie…" Theresa sighs, "Ryan's missing, and—"

Eddie interrupts. "I know he's missing Theresa," says he, "but what about us? There's no reason you shouldn't be happy just because he's gone."

"Ryan makes me happy," Theresa says quietly. She doesn't want to have a screaming match with Eddie that ends in him apologizing and her promising to stay. She just wants Ryan.

"He doesn't love you, you know," Eddie says harshly, "Why don't you let me love you?"

Theresa's eyes narrow to slits. "Don't you talk to me like that, Eddie," she warns. "Ryan makes me happy," she repeats firmly. "You obviously don't give a rat's ass what happens to him. You just want me." And then she laughs, realizing how silly that sounds. Of course Eddie wants her; he's loved her and always been second best in Theresa's eyes, with Ryan around.

She may have dealt with Eddie a little cruelly but Eddie's not the one for her. She loves Ryan, even if it's unrequited love. Ryan will take her of her, he'll even marry her, and they'll be linked together by their child, whether Ryan is the father or not.

"Please, Theresa, just give me a second cha—"

"Jesus, Eddie! I'm having a baby and Ryan's going to raise it; he's most likely the father." Theresa hears her mother clucking again behind her for her use of Jesus' name.

Eddie lowers his voice. "Now that's unfair, Theresa."

It is. Theresa knows that the father of her baby is more than likely Eddie, and not Ryan. But Ryan is going to raise the child like it's his own, even if it's not. That's the only way Theresa will have it and Eddie has to understand.

"I didn't mean it like that, Eddie," Theresa apologizes. She's sick of feeling bad about her actions, her verbalizations. But she's got to. "Look, can we just be friends for right now?"

"Definitely." Theresa can practically see Eddie's eyes glinting with excitement. She's leading him on and she knows it but it's the only way she can get him to cooperate. "So, about Ryan…"

"Yeah?" Suddenly interested, Theresa listens intently, ignoring her mother's attempts to get her to drink the coffee, which is apparently cooling by the second. The way Dolores is carrying on the coffee will be an iceberg of frozen brown by the time Theresa drinks it.

"Nevermind," Eddie rushes, "I don't know anything…" Theresa can hear him take the phone away from his ear and talk to someone, but unfortunately she can't hear what he's saying.

"Okay, Eddie." Theresa knows Eddie's not telling her something…or at least he's acting like it. Her suspicion is rising faster than heat from the asphalt road after a rain. "I'm tired…" she yawns convincingly, "I'll talk to you tomorrow or something."

"Okay, babe." Theresa can see the grin on Eddie's face grow wider and wider. "Theresa…thanks for a second chance," he adds, and she grimaces, hanging up the phone.

"Theresa! Mind your manners!" The henpecking by her mother starts as soon as the phone is back in its cradle. "And don't say 'Jesus'."

"Yes, Ma."

"Drink your coffee…oh, by now it's probably ice-cold. Let me heat it up for you."

"No, Ma, it's okay. Really." Theresa smiles at Dolores believably as she sips the coffee. It's ice cold, but no way is Theresa giving her mother the satisfaction of being right. Dolores clucks again.

"Kids these days…" she murmurs, smiling warmly at Theresa as she walks out of the kitchen and turns off the light, leaving Theresa in the dark.

And Theresa sits, drinking chilled coffee in the dark and watching the moon emerge from behind a blue-gray cloudbank and she hopes Ryan is out there somewhere watching the same moon.