An unexpected rain shower washed through the city in the early morning hours. The rhythmic patter against the window woke Dana, who spent the next fifteen minutes watching Alice sleep. This beautiful woman was, quite literally, her raison d’etre. She wished again for the words to truly express her feelings to her wife.

Alice was her wife. She was Alice’s wife. Her heart nearly burst with love. She wondered how she got so lucky.

“Dana,” Alice mumbled without opening her eyes, “you seriously have got to stop doing this.”

“Doing what?” Dana asked with feigned innocence. Alice opened her eyes.

“Watching me sleep while you try to figure out if I know how much you love me.” Alice nailed it. Dana smiled.

“You’re a freak, you know that, right?”

“Only for you, baby,” Alice teased. “And, for the record, I do know or I wouldn’t have married you.”

Helena Peabody was up and out, headed for The Planet and the scones Lara Perkins was making especially for her. At this hour, the drive in was relatively easy. After the fiasco with Dylan, she was more than grateful that she’d made good friends in this town. She’d first noticed Lara the day she’d quietly endured Alice’s silent rage so she could send Alice back into Dana’s life, but they’d become friends during Dana’s time in the hospital, having spent many long hours in the waiting room together. She told herself that romance was the last thing she wanted or needed and yet, here she was, driving across town through the rain at this ungodly hour.

In the valley, Tina made a bottle for Angelica and rocked her while she drank it. This had quickly become her favorite time of the day in days that were otherwise unfulfilling. Her thoughts were all over the place. She was no longer comfortable in her own skin. The only joy in her life was this child, the child who reminded her of Bette in her every look and mannerism. Tina knew she had to pull herself together and she hadn’t the vaguest idea where to start.

Bette stood in the open French doors, watching the rain dance along the surface of the pool. Sleep was an elusive commodity. She was tired of beating herself up, tired of feeling betrayed, tired of the emptiness where Angelica should have been, tired of being sad all the time. She was also nervous about her new job in a way she’d never been before, the legacy of Franklin’s unprofessional behavior. Stupid prick.