"No. Do you still think you're the best singer in the state of Missouri?"

"I know I am."

"And do you still send anonymous sappy and insincere valentines to guys you think have crushes on you,

just to watch them squirm?"

"I never sent you valentines!"

"And I never had a crush on you. I hated you."

"You did not. You couldn't take your eyes off me."

"You thought every guy couldn't take his eyes off you. Probably most of them were just cross-eyed,

though." "Oho, very funny. What about that choir trip when you were a senior and I was a junior and you tried to hold my hand?"

"Hey, I wasn't trying to hold your hand, I was trying to cop a feel. I had a bet on with a bunch of my friends that I could feel you up." "Kenneth Kronek! You are disgusting!" "Well, that makes two of us. Kenny Kronek and the girl who stole his underwear and sent it back with a lipstick kiss on it, just to embarrass him. You were the one who did it, weren't you?" "Guess." "Who did you get to steal them out of the boys' locker room for you?" "Guess." "You got me in a lot of trouble, you little brat. That package came when I was at school and my mother opened it up." "All right, Lucille!" Tess brandished a victorious fist in the air. "Way to go!" "You were, without a doubt, the most reprehensible female in the entire high school."

"Oh, hey, what about Cindy Gallamore? She was more reprehensible than I was."

"Why? Because she got the lead in the school play that you wanted? Boy, that really bummed you out, didn't it?" "She never quit rubbing it in. Never!" "And I never quit applauding her for it." "Does your sweet little daughter know you harbor all this hidden viciousness?" "No, but she knows all about yours. I've told her." "Oh, you have, huh?" "She knows all about every rotten thing you ever did to me. How you teased me, and set me up, and wrote me notes starting 'Dear Kenny Crow Neck,'-C-R-O-W-N-E-C-K-and generally made my life miserable whenever you could." "Yeah, but she still admires me, right?" "That's right. So do you think you can haul your big ego over to church and give her some reason to?" "If I do, are you going to treat me like an insect or are you going to be nice?" "I'll think about it."

"Uh-huh," she said dryly.

They eyed each other warily for a few seconds, but the air had definitely cleared. They suddenly realized they were were sparring and enjoying it. They were very good at it, actually.

"Hey, you know what?" Tess said thoughtfully, tipping her head to one side a little.

"What?"

"For an ex-nerd, you sure are quick at repartee."

"Why, thank you, Tess. That's the nicest thing you've said to me since we were in rompers. I'm so

relieved to know I've managed to elevate myself in your esteem." They weren't actually grinning at each other, but they were tempted. It had been startlingly refreshing to air their grievances and see where it got them. They were still standing beside the garden with the watering forgotten, sending challenges with their eyes, when across the alley, the porch door opened and Faith called, "Kenny... are you out here?"

He tossed a glance over his shoulder, then locked eyes with Tess again. She bent down, picked up the hose, turned it on and sent the spray fanning across the rhubarb leaves. "Better go," she said, smirking, "your girlfriend is calling."

He turned to do so. At his porch door Faith caught sight of them and waved exuberantly. It was obvious her exuberance was triggered more by her first glimpse of a Nashville superstar than by the man she was all but married to.

Tess put on her generic meet-the-fans smile and waved back. But as she watched Kenny's retreating back she couldn't help wondering what Faith was like and if the two of them had indeed been having an affair for eight years.

CHAPTER SIX.

When Kenny reached his porch, Faith was still holding the door open.

"You were gone so long," she said. "I wondered where you went."

"Just talking to Tess." He went in ahead of her, his hands in his pockets.

"I thought you didn't like her."

"I don't. But she thinks I sicced Giddings on her to get her to sing with the choir and I wanted to set her straight."

"Oh." Faith let the door close against her backside while he stopped and waited for her. He could tell she was deep in thought, pausing in her tracks to study him. She was a woman of many averages-looks, shape, intelligence, style, temperament. Faith possessed the homogeneous appearance of the women who modeled clothes for retirees in the catalogues his mother used to get. She was three years older than he, thirty-nine, and dyed her hair, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. The color she used was as ordinary a brown as gravy, and did about as much to brighten her faintly graying brunette. Her pleasant face hadn't an age line in it and hardly ever showed anger, but hardly ever had cause because they got along so well. She wore mostly dresses and slacks-never jeans or shorts-and always acted like a lady. The perfect role model for Casey, he thought, who tended to be tomboyish and in your face lots of times.

Tonight Faith was still wearing the conservative celery green suit she'd worn to work, with chunky white costume beads around her neck and matching clusters on her ears. In all the years he'd known Faith, he'd never seen her wear a dangling earring. Certainly nothing like the shimmering silver Indian things that were hanging on Tess McPhail right now.

"I was rather hoping to meet her," Faith said.

"Tess?" he said, surprised. "Why?"

"Well, she's famous. I've never met a famous person before."

"Listen, Faith, you wouldn't like her any more than I do. She's mouthy and insincere and she thinks everybody should fall on their knees and murmur a mantra when she passes."

"I don't see how she can be that bad, coming from a mother like Mary."

"Well, believe me, she is. She hasn't changed a bit."

Faith walked into the kitchen ahead of him. "Still, she came home to take care of her mother. She must

have a heart somewhere."

In the kitchen Casey was waiting to pounce on him. "Daddy, why can't I go over and talk to Mac? You did!" "I'm not going to have you hanging around over there bothering her." "I wasn't bothering her. She told you so today at the hospital." "You are not going over there." "Daddy!" Casey stamped her foot. "Nope." "But we're writing a song together!" "She's writing the song. You keep out of there." "Arrr! I could just scream!" She tried some histrionics, pretending to pull her own hair. "When I graduate, I'm going to be out of here so fast I'll leave a vacuum! And you know where I'm going?

Straight to Nashville, that's where! Then there's no way you can keep me from seeing whoever I want!"

"Fine. When you graduate you can go wherever you want," he said calmly. "Tonight you're staying home."

She put her face smack in front of his and said, less dramatically, "Daddy, you are such a poop!"

He chuckled, and said, "That's about what she said. The two of you should have fun comparing notes on me when you go to Nashville. You smell like horses. Why don't you go up and take a bath?"

"Arrr!" She turned on her bootheel and clumped upstairs. A minute later her guitar started whanging as

loud as she could make it whang, and she started singing some song he'd never heard, at the top of her lungs. But no bathwater began running.

He blew out a breath and muttered, "Teenagers."

Faith put her hand on Kenny's arm. "She's not so bad. And you have to put yourself in her place and understand her frustration-that there's an hon-est-to-goodness Nashville star right across the alley who has befriended her, and she's got to stay in this house as ordered. I'll bet you'd be frustrated, too. Just be careful, Kenny, that you don't rob her of an opportunity that could mean the world to her."

"What opportunity? You mean you think Tess wants her hanging around over there?"

"What did she say at the hospital?" "Yes, but-" "You dislike the woman so much that it could possibly be coloring how you're treating Casey." "You think I should let her go over there?" "Maybe. Maybe not. Just make sure you make a fair judgment. Now I'm going to go upstairs and see if I can soothe some ruffled feathers." She patted his arm before leaving the room with her customary unflappability.

Upstairs, she tapped on the closed door and asked, "Casey? May I come in?"

Casey stopped hammering her guitar. "I don't care." Faith went in and shut the door, leaned back against it holding the knob at her spine. A guitar case lined in red velvet lay open on the floor. Casey sat on her desk chair, sulking, one cowboy boot resting on the overturned side of the other one, staring at her left thumbnail which was bent against the neck of the guitar.

"You know what, Faith?" the girl said. "I called Daddy a poop, but I really wanted to call him a shit."

Faith remained unruffled. "Good thing you didn't. You'd have hurt his feelings, and he's really not one, you know." "I know," Casey admitted sheepishly. "You really want to be a singer like Tess McPhail, don't you?" Casey kept staring at her thumb. Finally she dropped her hand from the instrument and looked up at Faith. "Do you think I'm crazy?" "Not at all. And maybe I'm not the best judge, but I think you're good enough." "But Daddy doesn't, does he?" Faith moved into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her knees and resting an elbow upon them. "Your dad might possibly be a little bit scared that you'll succeed. Did you ever think about that?" "Why would he be scared of a thing like that?" "Because it'll take you away from him. Because it's a hard lifestyle, being a successful performer.

Because a lot of musicians use drugs and lead wild and ruinous lives-or so we're told. Take your pick." "But he knows what my music means to me!" "Mm-hmm," Faith said quietly. "And you know what you mean to him." Casey quieted. "I know. He loves me. But I can't stay around here forever. What would I do in a town this size?"

"I don't think he expects you to stay. He's just fighting some of his own battles, getting used to the idea of you graduating next month and leaving, wherever you go."

"And I don't think Tess McPhail leads a wild and ru-inous life, either. I think she works real hard at what she does."

"I'm sure you're right."

Casey and Faith had always gotten along together. Faith's placid personality seemed the perfect balance for Casey's excitable one. Faith had never criticized or badgered to get Casey to change her ways. Since she wasn't married to Kenny, she had no call to act like a parent; in giving Casey latitude, she had won her trust.

"Hey, Faith, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"When I'm gone, do you think you'll ever marry Daddy?"

Faith was still tipped forward with her inverted forearm draped across one knee. She fit the nail of her ring finger under the nail of her thumb and worked it around a little bit, studying it.

"I'd like to," she said, meeting Casey's eyes again. "But I just don't know."

"But you've been going together for so long."

"Maybe too long. We've each grown a little fond of our independence."

"You're scared. Is that what you're saying?"

"No, I wouldn't say scared. Wise, maybe."

"Is it because you're Catholic?"

"Well...partly."

"But you and Daddy see each other every day. What would be different if you were married?"

"I know this won't make much sense to you, but your dad and I have the best of both worlds We have companionship, but at the same time we have our independence. I actually like going home to my little house and having nobody to answer to but myself."

"That's probably because I'm so noisy and sassy that you're glad to get away from me."

Faith smiled with genuine affection. "Not so noisy and sassy that I won't miss you too when you're gone."

"Has Daddy asked you-to marry him, I mean?"

Faith uncrossed her knees and dropped her hands to the edge of the mattress. "Not for a long time."

"Oh." The room grew quiet as Casey sat studying Faith and trying to make sense of her relationship with Kenny. Finally Casey laid her guitar in its case, snapped the lid closed and stood it in the corner against her bookcase. She didn't understand why Faith's answer left her feeling blue.

"Well," Faith said, taking a deep breath, "I guess it's about time I was leaving. Feeling any better?"

"Not really."

Faith rose and stood beside Casey's chair, a hand on her shoulder. "As fathers go, he's a pretty good one."

Casey nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Tell you what I suggest. Take a long, leisurely bath, and empty all of this out of your mind for a little while, and when you're done it'll all seem less crucial."

Casey nodded again.

"Want to have supper with us?" Faith invited nonchalantly.

That's what Casey liked about Faith. She understood that sometimes you had to be alone. "Naw. You go ahead without me."