130:

Minutes later they were stepping out, Tracy unorthodoxicly, and completely at ease, glancing at the clock on the drivers panel, realizing it wasn't late and that no one would be concerned or expecting her for a while, and she was certainly free to jam with whomever she pleased. Casey used to make her do jam sessions, on a much more public basis periodically, in fact every weekend they weren't on tour. This wasn't too weird, it was only weird because it had been so long, and her personality had changed dramatically since she'd become a wife and a mother. She'd gone through this whole identity crises being afraid of her own shadow practically, she'd been seeing a shrink for it for years now. And suddenly she was flirting with guys again... but this time because she wanted to, not because she had to.

"Do you have instruments here?" she asked him as they went inside the modernly appointed condo. He took her cloak and hung it carefully over a coat rack, as she looked around and spotted a grand piano. She started to cross the floor to it, stopped, kicked off her heels and then crossed the carpet with her dress trailing. She ran a hand along the burnished veneer and then sat at the bench in delight. Blaze just watched her. The light he had turned on in his living room was perfect and cast her in soft, dulcet tones. It high- lighted her wildly curling hair, and her slender figure to perfection.

Tracy sat at the piano and let her fingers wander. She could hear music for this guy, music she hadn't been able to hear for a year. Not the ocean song, or even Richard's song. Which were the only two pieces she'd heard inside since Raine's death. And those not even strongly.

Blaze recognized the musician immediately. She wasn't any simple girl, like the ones he'd come to know in Hollywood, whose Daddies paid for them to look good and sound good, with no talent whatsoever. She certainly had the Daddy, but obviously, he hadn't paid her way into the limelight, this girl was the real thing. He looked at her with new respect.

"How long have you played?" he asked.

She didn't stop. "Always."

He doffed the jacket, flipped the vest and tie, unbuttoned three buttons, and kicked off his shoes before coming to sit beside her on the bench. "You play by ear?"

"I read music as well." She said, but then broke into a full-fledged melody, utilizing the entire keyboard, and making the room sound like a concert. Her eyes were closed, or only open for a moment, and then she swayed into him. "Feel free to join me." she sang.

She felt warm to the touch, as if the music had filled her up like a jukebox, or some other stereo. He scooted next to her, played the upper hand and felt as if he could hear the music inside her searching for a way to be expressed. He shook himself, completely drawn in, but not without amazement that he could be. She leaned into him, unabashedly.

"Hear it?" she sang.

He nodded first and then answered. "Yeah, babe, I hear it." And he did, a song, right before it was realized on the keys, he could hear it played inside somewhere. Tracy was humming, and then singing, and then really singing and then not singing at all, and she stopped and leaned into him.

"Wow! That was awesome. You are awesome. What a beautiful song." She breathed, and then started picking a little one-handed thing, no melody at all.

He knew she had heard the song in her head, he knew she had given it to him, he knew it all on some subliminal level, but had no voice for it. There was no comment. He got up and went to get his guitar. Her eyes followed him and looked around for another. So, he went and got his other guitar, or one he had brought here several years ago that he hadn't played much. He set it by her, and then sat on the couch to tune it, Tracy automatically played the E for him to tune by, even though his guitar had an auto-tune. He strummed, and then picked and then she was listening, and not playing at all.

Tracy felt the residual build leave her. Slowly she felt herself completely relax, the heat retreat, the dull head-ache dissipate. How long she sat there playing, she didn't know, eventually, Blaze stopped playing, his fingers feeling numb with abuse, and hers flying in formation and laughter, reveling in the creative energy between the two of them. He changed clothes into jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot, he approached her. "I laid out some clothes for you if you want to change." He said and set a glass of water on the floor next to her. She glanced up. His eyes were dark, fathomless, unreadable, but not unfamiliar. She knew him as she had known Richard and Austin upon first meeting them. A kinship. Peace flowed into her veins, and she wondered if he were a ground. It was like with Raine, she had felt no fear. Oh, initially a bit, but mainly because it seemed expected, but she was beyond that now. She once again transcended the unfamiliar, and placed another person in her life as a friend, or more....

"You had a busy day." He told her, no longer playing, but drinking his water slowly.

"I had a stupid day." She said, and stopped playing to sip water as well.

"Tell me about it." He said, and she did, feeling no restraint, no reason to keep herself private, with somebody who could hear her music along with her. He listened to her, but sat there, watching her intently, as she spoke, her delicate fingers twitching nervously as she recounted the feelings of pain and anger at the revelations in the police station. He heard the minute fluttery-buttery tone change in her voice when she spoke of her children, and then Julian.

"You have to understand, Jules isn't a ground." She was explaining the current to him now, and his eyes narrowed in understanding and intrigue. "But we spent almost all our growing up years touching in one way or another, we were touching, and he somehow became like... immune to it. He can feel it, but it doesn't consume him, ever."

"Perhaps you are soul mates."

"Funny, Dr. Armani said that too. Maybe it's true. But wouldn't that mean we would be compatible to like.... You know....."

"Have a physical relationship?" he supplied.

"More than that... I mean, like get married."

"Why get married? Why not just be together?"

"Well, I couldn't be with any guy without marrying him, it's... in my beliefs."

"Oh, yeah, you're Mormon. I keep forgetting."

She ignored that. "So, wouldn't you think we'd be at least compatible? Because we're not. I mean we can't live together now. We would like... you know.... Not tolerate each other for long periods, not to like.... Live together."

Blaze got up and came to stand in front of her. She was sitting on the floor, her legs curled under her; the dress framing her like a sparkling moonless night. He knelt, looking her straight in the face. "This is hard for you to talk about." He said. When she looked away he turned her back to face him with two fingers on her chin. "Why would the thought of being Julian's soul mate bother you? Is it because he loves Bridget, and not you?"

"He loves me. But not like... not like that." She said, and closed her eyes. She'd been held like this before, and rather than force herself to look so intimately into another's face, or reveal all her thoughts this way, she simply closed off.

"Is that a regret?"

She shook her head. But suddenly tears came, and she jerked away. He let her go, but stayed squatting there in front of her.

"Tracy, do you love Jules?"

She nodded. "But not.... Not like you're thinking. I- I don't want to sleep with him; I don't want to marry him. It's not like that. Those things are great, but they'd kill us. We couldn't have it. Jules can hear my music, he can take my charge. If we were to.... Sleep together, well, it would be bad. We both know that."

"I don't understand." Blaze said, and he sat back, Indian style and took her slack hands in his own and rubbed the slender fingers, feeling the hard calluses from her recent playing. "I've had women, beautiful women, women I thought I loved, slept with, wanted to marry. But they didn't want me. They were turned on physically, as I suppose all guys are with women they love, but it ended."

"Because sex isn't love." She said and finally opened her eyes.

"If a girl has sex with me, I'm pretty sure she is feeling in love."

"No." she said. "And some sex would destroy the love you are feeling without it."

"Like what you feel for Julian?"

"Yeah."

He rubbed her fingers. "What do you feel for me?"

She smiled. "I'd like to make music with you. Like in a studio, make an album."

"So, you can hear the music, and be with me, but not be attracted to me?"

She smiled. "Oh, I'm attracted to you." She said ruefully. "But.... I won't sleep with you. I won't let those feelings interfere with the music."

"There's someone else?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "Your late husband?"

She stopped smiling and shook her head. "No, someone else. Someone I am waiting for. I've promised myself to wait for him. He's on a mission for our church right now. He'll be home next year."

"What makes this guy so special? Maybe we should think about what happened here tonight. It was more than the music, you know, more than just creative energy."

She pulled away and got up to go and stand by the window overlooking the Seine. "First, what makes him so special? I don't know. He was a jerk once, and then he was a brother, but he said he never felt that way. And then he was the only person I could think about spending my life with, and spending eternity with. He is eternity to me, he's my only eternity."

Blaze stood up and came to stand beside her, his arm rose to hold the sheer curtains back. "How can you feel eternity? How do you know it's there? I've heard people say that before, but I knew when they said it, it was just a figure of speech, they didn't really know what eternity was. But you just spoke as if it is real. And.... I believe you."

"It's real, Blaze, believe me, it's real, and it's worth every ounce of fidelity I can give it. It's better and more real than any artificial substitute, it's worth everything I am, everything I have."

He swallowed. Never had he felt such authentic conviction. All that creative energy he'd been reveling in all night was embodied in the wholly positive affirmation he felt coming from this girl. "Tracy, I want to believe you."

She turned and smiled at him gently. One hand came up to cup his cheek, and run behind his ear to clasp his neck tenderly. Her eyes on his, she reached up and kissed him on the corner of the mouth, a sweet, tender kiss, meant to convey hope.

He knew he should allow the kiss, accept the wonder of it, think of eternity, and he was, as he turned and pressed into her forcefully, parting her sealed lips, tasting her natural ambivalence.

She was light to him, air, breath. He clasped her to him firmly as she melted softly against him, and he wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and take her to his room. And at the same time that thought entered his mind, a part of him recoiled. How could he even contemplate desecrating something so lovely? And suddenly he understood what she'd been trying to impart to him. There are some things worth more than just a moment of pleasure. Some things far more enriching, more stable, more empowering.

If he let her go it would be over. He knew that. It would never happen again. Only this moment was she his. Only this moment was this contact possible. He ran a hand through her hair, along the delicate neckline, down her supple side. Raging desire collided with wonderful knowledge.

And in the knowing, eternity won. He had the strength to let her go, without denying the reality of feeling at all. The feelings were still there, but knowledge permeated and became a stronger force. For once a truth in his life stood out to him and his deliberate action gave him hope, and strength.

Tracy turned away. "Find it, Blaze. Search for it, and you'll find it."

She went back to the piano and sat down. He had expected her to leave, but instead she began to play again, that beautiful song of discovery, of reality, or a power far beyond their own, acknowledged, but not a force that would take away from them in any way. He'd spent the evening in a way completely foreign to him. Not one drug, one illicit sexual encounter, or alcoholic beverage deterred his vision. This was real, and it was beyond belief how good it was. He wanted to imprint it on his mind and recall it when he felt frustrated or depressed. He need only focus on one person, one dream. He went and sat beside her, and fingered the keyboard again. It was here, he thought, in the music, with her, but not of her. Eternity.

"What song are you playing now?"

"Richard's song." she said.

"I can hear it."

"It's the strongest melody I've ever heard."

"I can feel it."

She nodded, imparting it, sharing it, giving it with all her being, wanting to give it, to enrich this life.... When she was done, she turned and there were tears now in his eyes. She embraced him roughly. "It's okay. These moments are to treasure. Don't ever forget them, okay?" And then he knew she really was going to leave.

She got up. "Don't go." He said, but without conviction.

She smiled. "I've got kids to think about."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Sure." She said.

"Boat ride on the Seine?" He suggested hopefully.

Startled, she shook her head. "No, I—I can't create new memories of the Seine. But something else. Om... the Louvre? A park? Want to have a picnic?"

"Yes." He said simply. "Shall I take you home?"

She shook her head. "Jake is outside." She grinned amiably.

He nodded, knowing that Jake must be a bodyguard. "Will you call me?"

"Yeah." She pulled her cloak on and then turned to give him a quick peck on the cheek. He grabbed her by both cheeks and again parted her lips with his own, kissing her hard, telling her of joy and the moment. Even if it meant denying eternity for this moment. There was light here, beauty, relief, reality....she felt like his eternity.

"Thank you." He said and she turned to go. "Trace?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

She smiled. "You made my day so awesome. And it was so awful. It was a shared thing, okay? Till tomorrow then?"

He nodded and watched her walk down the pathway to the waiting van, whose engine revved at her approach. Someone was waiting.

*****