She stood at the breaking wall in her pajamas and flip flops transfixed by the calming motion of the waves thirty feet ahead. Like so many times before she had retreated to this spot to think, as well as to forget. Closing her hazel eyes, she breathed in the mixture of exhaust and salt that had replaced the pure ocean air of her childhood and slowly released it. For a second, she believed her heart to have been made lighter by this action. However, startled by a rowdy wave hitting the sand, she realized that this wasn’t so. Thoughts thumping about in her mind, she knew that no amount of deep breathing would relieve her of the pain and frustration that had been overwhelming her for weeks.

“I’m sorry I’m not better for you,” she thought to herself as she pushed her blonde hair out of her face “So sorry and so scared.”

Feeling the wind blow dirt and sand at her face, she wished that the brunette was there so she could hide her face in her chest. Undoubtedly, she’d urge her to return to her house and try to get some sleep.  She might even guide her by the hand to her front door.

“Would you take me back there?” She shook her head. “No. You’d take me some place wonderful I’m sure and I’d go with you gladly.”

Upon opening her eyes, she was surprised to see that the sun was rising. She had lost track of the time again and would have to rush home to get changed for work. Reluctantly she turned away from the ocean and began her trek home.  With luck she’d arrive back before anyone woke up. She didn’t want her son to know that she had left him again. He had caught her a week or so ago coming in from her midnight walk which had upset him deeply. He didn’t want to be left home alone with “the man” and his daughter.  She didn’t blame him.

Closing and locking the door quietly, she was relieved that the house was silent. She contemplated returning to the guest room so that, if timed properly, she could accidentally bump into her son in the hallway, but decided against it. He would see through her act and it would only embarrass them both. Instead, she entered the kitchen and began to make breakfast. It had been awhile since she had treated her son to pancakes and herself to breakfast at all. He would appreciate the effort and, concentrating on whipping up the perfect batter, she appreciated being able to escape her sadness for a moment.

As her single batch of pancakes formed in the pan, she decided to set the table. Two plates, two cups and two sets of silverware for two people who she knew would be loved fiercely by the person she had been longing for, but refusing to contact for weeks.  She wondered if she set the table for three and wished with all of her might if the brunette would materialize before her. Smelling something beginning to burn, she rushed to the pan and flipped the pancakes just in time.

“You’d like my pancakes,” She thought to herself “and I’d like seeing you eat them.”

She turned the burner off, but left the pancakes in the pan. Her son was taking longer each day to make it downstairs and she didn’t want them to get cold. Instead, she placed the pan into the oven and ascended the stairs to fetch him. She was surprised to find that he wasn’t in his room and more surprised still to find a note on his pillow informing her that he had left early to meet a friend at school to work on a project. Sighing, she closed his bedroom door and decided to get dressed for work. Before leaving the house, she removed the pan from the oven and placed the pancakes into a paper towel. She drove to her spot on the beach and exited her car. Gently, she placed the pancake filled paper towel on the wall. One day, she would share a picnic with the brunette here.  Until then, she could only hope that the birds would enjoy breakfast in their honor.