Rick nodded, but said nothing. He glanced up toward the door.

      “And the suddenness - I think that makes it harder. There was absolutely no warning. I mean, seeing a sick child can be so heartbreaking, but at least the parents have some time to process the pain. But when a child is killed in an accident like that, I'm sure the suddenness is a terrible emotional shock.”

      “Yes, sir.” Rick glanced toward the door again, silently willing someone to come in.

      “But you both are getting along well?”

      Rick glanced at the door again and unconsciously took a small step toward it. “Uh...yes. I think we're moving on, slowly.”

      “That's good. These things take time. I know you'll get through it all right.” Mr. Wentworth gave a friendly smile and patted Rick on the side of the shoulder. “I believe that everything happens for a reason, even if we can't see it right away.”

      “Mr. Wentworth, I'm sorry, but I really need to get back to this project I'm on.”

      “Oh, yes, of course.” Mr. Wentworth nodded and smiled gently and took a step to the side. “Well, if I can do anything for you, just let me know.”

      “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.” He began walking toward the door.

      “And please give your wife my regards.”

      “Yes, sir, I will. And thanks again.” Rick smiled weakly and nodded as he stepped quickly through the door. Once in the hall he turned sharply, spilling a little coffee onto his hand. He quickened his pace as he headed for his cubicle, careful not to make eye contact with anyone along the way. Once at his cubicle, he placed the coffee cup next to his keyboard and sat down heavily in his chair. He found himself wishing there was a curtain that he could draw across the cubicle entrance, and for a fleeting moment considered moving a file cabinet there. But he sat quietly for a few moments thinking how he might crawl under his desk and hide. He felt the openness of the cubicle entrance as keenly as if he were exposed to a cold wind and he considered taking a walk up to the roof of the building to get away. But the risk of running into someone and having to talk stifled the thought. Outside the cubicle entrance was a walkway and a wall and he was all but hidden anyway. He sat for several moments, staring blankly at some random point near the floor.

      Eventually his eyes looked up at the computer screen. He moved toward it and brought up the Bahamas web site that he had been waiting for. He went to an area of photos of the islands and found many good images of beaches, but as he looked at them he realized that something wasn't right about them. The water was beautiful, as were the beaches themselves, but there did not seem to be any heavy surf out beyond the beach. Nor were there any mountains nearby. He didn't know why he thought there should be mountains nearby. He didn't remember looking around to see them, but he felt that instinctively that they should be there. He backed out of the sight, and then backed out of the listing the search engine had provided. He thought a moment as he stared at the search engine's prompt. He typed in “Hawaii - beaches - photos” and hit the enter key. A new listing came up and he read through the selection. There were so many that might prove suitable that he went to the top and opened the first one.

      The first web site belonged to a photographer who lived on the islands. His work was made up of photos of the people, the mountains, the agriculture, and the beaches of Hawaii. Rick began opening the beach pictures. There were a lot of photos of the tourist areas and many more of seemingly out of the way places. All of the photos were well done and conveyed the awesome natural beauty of the Hawaiian shores, but there were few that bore a resemblance to the beach he saw in his dream. The only one that would have been a close match was a beach on the big island of Hawaii, but the sand on that beach was solid black. Disappointed but still determined, he had just begun to back out of the site when he heard a noise behind him.

      “Planning a vacation?”

      Rick quickly minimized the screen before turning around to see a face at the top of the cubicle wall. The nose of the face actually rested on the top edge of the wall and the eyes were opened so wide that they appeared to bulge. They stared at the computer screen. “Oh, don't bother shutting it off now. I've already seen it.”

      “Are you spying on me?” asked Rick, not amused.

      “Sure. I get a stipend from the federal government to spy on people like you.”

      “Like me?” Rick began to smile. “What are you, FBI?”

      “No, INS.”

      “INS? Then what in the world are you spying on me for?”

      “I'm abusing my mandate.”

      Rick laughed. “Your mandate?”

      “Is mandate not right? How about petty authority? Well, whatever it is, I'm abusing it.”

      They both laughed and Rick's friend stepped out from behind the cubicle wall. He came into Rick's cubicle and sat down on a low file cabinet.

      "They don't have anything for you to do today, Tom?" asked Rick, smiling.

      "They did, but I shirked it off on other people. Now I'm free for the rest of the day." They both chuckled. "They pay me for innovative thinking, you know." Tom paused a moment, still smiling. "How are you doing?"

      Rick shrugged. "Not as good as I thought I was doing."

      "Do you want to talk about it?"

      Rick thought a moment, then said, "No, not really."

      Tom nodded and smiled gently. Then he gestured toward the computer screen and said, "So, are you planning a vacation?"

      Rick turned to look at the screen which still displayed the spread sheet, and then looked back at Tom. "No. Only in my mind, I guess."

      "Maybe you should take some vacation time. It would probably do you both a world of good to get away to some spot like that."

      Rick nodded, but said nothing.

      “Or you could go on one of those sailing ship cruises,” said Tom. “I bet Cathy would like that.”

       “No doubt.” Rick nodded. “That would be fabulous, but money's kind of tight right now. We've had a lot of expenses recently that we didn't foresee.”

      Tom nodded thoughtfully. “How is Cathy?”

      “Actually, she's doing much better. She still has her moments, like when she finds an old picture or something, but overall she is doing better. I, on the other hand…” Rick hesitated.

      “What?”

      Rick thought a moment. “I thought I pretty much had it all together. Between Cathy and myself, I was the strong one. I was doing well. But now I wonder if I'm cracking up. What are the symptoms of cracking up, anyway?”

      Tom smiled. “I don't think you're cracking up, man. I mean everyone goes through things like this differently. Maybe it's working out better for you and Cathy. Earlier you were strong while she was in the worst of it. Now she can be strong for you.”

      “While I'm in the worst of it,” said Rick, finishing the thought. He shook his head. “Man, I dread the thought of that.”

      “Why?”

      “Well, what if you don't get past it? What if you just can't let it go?”

       “I think there will come a time when you will be able to…” Tom hesitated, careful to use the right phrase, “…to go on.”

      “I don't know,” Rick said. “I sure hope so.”

      Tom looked at his friend thoughtfully for a few moments, and then glanced at his watch. “Hey, Rick, I have to go to a meeting. Can we get together for lunch?”

      “I'm supposed to go to a luncheon with the people doing the Murray account.”

      Tom thought a moment. “I'm going to be tied up for the whole afternoon, maybe into the evening. Can we get together tomorrow?”

      “I guess.”

      Tom stood up and moved toward the cubicle door. “If I'm not too late, I'll try to call you tonight. Okay?”