He hid his surprise and answered, "No, I don't care."

He sipped his Coca-Cola and watched her over the can. She was used to being watched. She could sit

absolutely still beneath his regard and meet his eyes dead-on, in spite of the undercurrents in the room. Those undercurrents ranged clear back to high school and became amplified by the quasi-impropriety of a country music megastar sashaying around in her sleepwear in front of a single man who'd once had an enormous crush on her.

"Practice on Tuesday, right?" she said.

"That's right. Seven P.M. Would you want to sing a solo?"

"That's up to you. I'm not after stealing your choir's thunder."

"My choir's not that good. No thunder to steal. If you want to do a solo, I'll pick out some music."

"You decide."

A commercial came on the radio and Kenny kept his gaze pinned on Tess for several seconds. Then he

cleared his throat and sat up straighter, folding his forearms on the table.

"So you met Faith today."

"Yes. She's very sweet."

"She said the same thing about you, actually."

"Did she?"

"Yes, she did."

"Don't believe her," Tess said with a grin.

"Don't worry," he replied, and an answering grin played on his lips.

Some seconds slipped by in which they wondered if the challenge would forever be between them,

enjoying it at the moment. Nothing would ever be easy between them-that much they knew-but the constant friction spiced up their encounters and made them think about each other after they parted. She dropped a hand to the JCPenney catalogue and absently flicked the corners with a long persimmon thumbnail. Zzzt-zzt.

"So what are you two? Engaged or what?" she asked. "No. Friends." "Oh, friends." She nodded as if giving that some thought. Zzzt. "For what? Eight years? Is that what Casey told me?" "That's right." "Mm." Zzzt. "Momma's mentioned Faith in her letters, of course." "Of course." "Momma loves her." "And Faith thinks the world of your mother." "Eight years is a long time." Zzt. "For what?" "Whatever." "Friendships last like that in small towns. You ought to know that." "So what happened to Casey's mother?" Zzt. "She got tired of us and ran away to Paris." "Got tired of you-just like that?" "That's what she said."

"Wow. Bummer." "Yeah, bummer." Zzt. "So now you mistrust women, is that it?" "Why do you say that?" "Eight years with Faith and no wedding ring." "By mutual consent." "Ahh." Zzt. He pointed at her thumbnail on the corner of the catalogue. "Would you mind not doing that anymore? It bothers me." "Oh... sorry."' She knit her fingers together loosely and rested them beneath her chin, her elegant trademark nails creating a striking contrast to her bill cap and clubbed hair. The room grew silent while she lightly stroked the underside of her chin with one knuckle. Finally she said, "Must've been hard on Casey, having her mother run away." "She got along. My mother was alive then and filled in." "But you and Casey are really close-I can tell that." "I'd say so." "And she's crazy about Faith. She told me so." "Boy, you two have talked a lot. What did she tell you about me?" "That you don't want her to grow up and be like me." He said nothing, only watched her steadily, feeling no need to confirm or deny her statement, which she liked. "It's understandable," she said. "The life doesn't leave much time for personal relationships." "Meaning what? That you don't have any?" "Are you asking if I have a boyfriend?" "Well, you asked me about Faith." She considered a moment before deciding she would answer him. "Yes, I do, as a matter of fact." "Live-in or live-out?" "Live-out. Way out. He's on the road right now, in Texas, and I'm here."

"And when you're both in Nashville?"

"That's only happened four times since I met him."

It was unclear why they were setting up boundaries. Perhaps both of them would have denied that's

what was happening, but before they had a chance to assess their motives, Casey returned.

"You know what. Dad?" she was saying as she rounded the archway into the kitchen. Whatever she had to say was less important than her physical presence, which brought back their common sense. They

kept it light after that and Casey had no idea what they'd been discussing while she was gone. Kenny and Casey left a short while later, and on the back step, Casey gave Tess another of her impulsive hugs.

"Thank you, Mac. You're making all my dreams come true."

"It's fun for me, too," Tess said, and it was true. Some who sought to befriend her left little impression at

all; others she immediately took for opportunists seeking to use her in whatever way they could. Casey was different. She neither expected help with her career nor asked for it, but her vibrant personality, along with her talent, made it fun to help her anyway. She was a person with whom Tess could laugh and sing beer-drinking songs, and there were few friends like that in Tess's life. She felt closer than ever to the girl as they bade good night.

"See you tomorrow." As Casey walked away with her father Tess saw, against the distant porch lights, that the two were holding hands. When they were halfway to the alley she could hear the murmur of their voices, but no distinct words. She figured relatively few teenagers held their parent's hand anymore. Would she herself have done so at seventeen? Not likely. But something within her was renewed watching them walk away. As they walked home, Casey was saying, "Do you see how nice she is?" "I'll have to admit, she's very nice to you." "She was nice to you, too." "It's just that I don't want you to get carried away with these dreams of glory and then be disappointed." "But Daddy, aren't you the one who always said I could do anything I set my mind to do?" "I said that, yes." "Then why are you resisting my doing this with her? Because you are, I can tell. Even when you don't say so." He sighed and offered no answer. "Faith said you're scared that if I really decide to get into music I might succeed and it'll take me away from you." "Faith might possibly be right. It's a scary lifestyle." "Oh, Daddy," she said in gentle rebuke as they reached their own back steps and went inside.

Shutting out the lights and closing up the house for the night put an end to their discussion. Though it remained open-ended, Kenny felt himself growing more and more helpless to stop the contagious lure of fame and fortune that Tess McPhail represented for his daughter. Uncannily, she was beginning to represent a contagious lure for him as well. But one thing was sure: He wasn't going to act on it, for to do so would be to set his seal of approval on her in Casey's eyes, and he didn't want to do that. Faith was a consideration as well, for he felt committed to her whether they were married or not. Furthermore, there was self-preservation to consider. Tess would be gone back to the life of the rich and famous when Mary's hip was healed, and he was too smart to set himself up for another fall. It might be fun to sit and spar with her the way they'd done tonight, but any way you cut it, Tess McPhail was as off-limits now as she'd been nineteen years ago, and he knew it.

The phone rang downstairs in Mary's kitchen at twelve-thirty that night. Tess awakened with a start, surprised to find she'd already been sleeping for an hour. She turned on the bedside light and hurried downstairs, answering in the dark.

"Hello?"

"Tess?"

"Burt?"

"Finally got a chance to call you."

"Where are you?"

"Fort Worth. Billy Bob's. The boys are breaking down and I'm supposed to be helping them, but I decided to call you first."

"You sound tired."

"Just sick of the road. You know how it is. How's everything there? How'd it go with your mom?"

"Okay, I guess. She's still in the hospital."

"When will she be home?"

"Day after tomorrow or the next day."

"So how you doing at nursing?"

"Terrible, I think. My sisters are much better at bedside stuff than I am."

He chuckled and let a beat pass before saying what was on his mind. "I was thinking about you tonight."

"Yeah?"

"We were doing 'I Swear' and the words made me remember the last time we were together." It was a romantic ballad about the kind of love that lasts a lifetime.

"Oh, Burt, that's sweet."

"Wonder if I'll ever have anything like that."

"That what you want?"

"I don't know. What about you?"

"No, I don't think so. Too hard when you do what we do."

"Yeah, that's for sure."

"I told my mother about you, though. Showed her your picture on my shirt."

"Oh, yeah? What'd she say?"

"She wanted to know if I might marry you. Ma clings to any straw."

"We could give Ma a thrill. How 'bout it? Want to?"

She could tell he was joking. "Oh, sure. Get serious, Burt."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." He sighed. "Well, anyway, I just needed a familiar voice tonight."

"I know what you mean. I've been there a thousand times myself. Where to next?"

"Someplace in Oklahoma. Can't even remember."

Somebody came by the phone and yelled something at him. He raised his voice and answered, "Yeah,

yeah, I'll be right there!" To Tess he said, "Hey, listen, gotta go. Boys are giving me shit. Wanna get

together next time we're both in Nashville?" "Sure."

"Take you to the Stockyard for one of their luscious Cowboy steaks."

"Make it one of their fresh lobsters and it's a date." He chuckled and she added, "Hey, listen, call whenever you can, will you?" "You got it. Miss you." "Miss you, too, Burt." " 'Bye, then." " 'Bye." After they hung up Tess stood in the dark kitchen, staring absently out the window, feeling the loneliness of being isolated from normality. Fine romance she and Burt could have. Seven hundred miles apart tonight, with the chance of crossing paths in Nashville five, maybe six times a year. She felt around for the drinking glass, ran the water and filled it. Drinking, she studied the outline of Kenny's house, its looming black roof peak haloed from beyond by a streetlight somewhere up on the corner. The windows were dark, everyone there asleep, secure in that small town way that she had once known. Kenny would go to his office tomorrow, and would probably have supper with Faith tomorrow night, and afterward maybe play cards. Whatever their relationship was, they had companionship. Kenny had Casey, too, and Tess could understand his fear of losing her to this improbable life where commitments became strained by separation, fame and sometimes extreme wealth.

Ah, well... She sighed and turned from the window to go back upstairs.

When she was once again settled down in bed she lay awake thinking of Burt packing up his instruments, boarding a bus and trying to get a decent night's sleep while the driver pushed on up the highway to some city in Oklahoma. She thought of Kenny in his familiar bed across the alley. Of Burt and herself the couple of times they'd been together, trying to create some kind of relationship in a few rushed hours, knowing it took more than a couple of days every now and then to forge anything meaningful.

There'd been more meaning in the brief time she'd spent tonight with Casey and Kenny than in any relationship she'd had time to attempt in the last several years.

Burt again-rolling around with him on her living room floor because she liked him a lot and it felt good to do that sometimes with somebody you thought you could trust. Sex was something you generally did without when you were a star and single. Anything else was either dangerous or ill-advised.

Oh, hell, why think about it?

Because of Burt's call, of course. But when she turned onto her stomach and tried to empty her mind so sleep could float in, it wasn't Burt she saw behind her closed eyelids, but Kenny Kronek.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Tess and Casey finished the song on Saturday afternoon. They sang it together so many times that they had every lick and dip down pat in their harmonies. Their vocal qualities were totally different-Tess's resonant and soprano, Casey's gritty and alto, but the combination created an arresting blend.

When Casey left at five o'clock, Tess had a rough demo tape of both their voices.

She called Jack Greaves and said, "The song is done. I'll express it to you on Monday so you get it Tuesday. When you listen to it, will you pay attention to the voice that's singing harmony? Tell me what you think of it."

"Okay," Jack said. "I'll let you know."

After the call to Jack she hung around the kitchen feeling rootless: Saturday evening in a small town and everybody had plans. Casey was off to get together with some of her girlfriends. Renee and Jim were having dinner with their gourmet group. Judy... well, Tess didn't really want to be with Judy. So what was she going to do? Clean the house, since Mary was coming home tomorrow. It was a beautiful spring evening, however, and the prospect of housecleaning suddenly seemed like a gloomy occupation. If she were anywhere but here she'd be working, singing a concert or a club. She made herself a smoked-turkey-and-sprout sandwich and was standing by the kitchen sink eating it when she saw Kenny and Faith come out of his house and head for her car. So they had plans, too. They were all dressed up, she in a pink dress and he in a sport coat and tie. He opened the passenger door for her and for a split second Tess had a flashback of her daddy doing that for her momma. Kenny and Faith were probably going out to supper. What else would they be doing on a Saturday night? And why did their being together make her feel all the more alone? As Kenny walked around the rear of the car Tess wondered if he'd glance her way, but he didn't. He had his keys in his hand, searching for the right one, obviously with no interest in Tess McPhail. He got in Faith's car, backed it up and the two of them drove away.

What was this heavy weight on Tess's chest? Disappointment? Because Kenny Kronek hadn't searched for her face in a window? She turned away, wondering what in the world was wrong with her. Was she so caught up in being idolized that she needed to make a conquest of him? Again?

Trying to drive the notion out of her mind, she dug into the housecleaning with a vengeance. She put clean sheets on her mother's bed, threw the soiled ones in the washer, dusted, vacuumed, scoured the bathroom, then followed all the instructions she'd gotten from the physical therapist, removing all the scatter rugs from the main floor, making sure no loose electrical cords were snaking into the traffic areas, tucking away any obstacles that might possibly catch the leg of a walker or the foot of a shuffling convalescent. She found the various recovery aids that Mary had told her to dig out: a bath bench, a long-handled sponge, a booster for the toilet seat, a long-handled shoehorn. From the basement she carried up a three-tiered rolling metal cart, washed it off and loaded it with chairside conveniences. It was already dark by the time she turned on the outside light and went out into the yard and picked some bridal wreath and tulips from the south side of the house, then did a horrible job of arranging them in a vase-Tess McPhail was accus-tomed to receiving flowers, not giving them. She threw away the awful yellowed plastic doily with the curled edges and set the bouquet in its place on a pretty scalloped-edged plate she found in a high cupboard.

Then she walked all through the house, inspecting her handiwork and realizing she was actually bone weary from the unaccustomed physical labor.

Something rare and wonderful happened that night. Tess fell asleep on the sofa watching TV during the ten o'clock news. When she awakened it was deep night, the crickets were serenading outside, and she stumbled upstairs groggily to fall into bed and sleep like a lumberjack till dawn.

She awakened sheerly amazed at what she'd done.

The clock said 6:10, and she felt fabulous! So fabulous that she bounded up immediately, brushed her teeth, got some tea steeping and went out in the backyard to water her mother's garden.

This was a time of day Tess rarely saw. She stood on the back steps, tightening the belt of a short jade satin kimono, while enjoying the streaky explosion of colors in the eastern sky. It was a splendid daybreak! Vibrant heliotropes and oranges thrusting their fingers up, up into the paler light-washed sky overhead. She tipped back to look for the moon, but if it was still there it was on the other side of the house where she couldn't see it. The birdsong out here was downright impolite-mourning doves, sparrows, mockingbirds and robins all trying to outdo each other. She remained on the step for several minutes, listening, imbibing, appreciating the spectacle she so seldom saw. Everything was fresh, the grass jeweled with dew, the trees as still as oil paintings. The rowdy sun ascended high enough to place everything directly before it in a black hole. She squinted as it edged up above the garage roof and the ornamental pear tree in Kenny's yard-a magnificent orange ball whose radiance shut her eyes and finally forced her off the steps.