Tracy told them she was staying the night and took her bag up to her room to change--across the hall from Casey's room--and next to Miles's room. There was a phone on the nightstand and she dialed overseas with practiced ease. It was four in the morning there, but she didn't care. Julian wouldn't have cared if he'd needed her.

"What?" His slightly British accent flooded her ears with comforting familiarity. "Are you at Mom's?"

No one else would have called him at four a.m. Talking to Jules was like having an ongoing conversation that had long pauses.

"I'm at Mom's, yeah. Did you see the news?"

"No, but I talked to Michael. Damn, Trace, why do you let Case get to you like that? He can be such a prick." His voice wasn't exactly slurred, but she knew him well enough to know she'd woken him up, and he was not quite lucid.

"He wanted me to gig with him at Tapas. He got me out of the studio early." She fingered her bandage, and omitted the part about the cocaine. "He had the nanny come and get Danny so I can't see him." She tried to shield her choked up tones from him, but Julian knew her better than anyone.

"That's bullshit, Trace and you know it. I'll call him. He'll have him back to you right now."

"He's gigging tonight, Jules. I don't want to wake the baby up. Let him sleep in his own bed. I'll go get him for breakfast." But now the tears overflowed and she was glad he couldn't see her. Just hearing his voice and knowing he would have helped her made it all more bearable.

"You're not marrying him, you can't. He'll keep pulling this shit, even after he has you."

"I know Jules, I know. I don't know why I keep trying. I'm so afraid he won't let me see Danny." She now fingered the pale blue striped bedspread Coral had given her last Christmas. It wasn't soft, it was one of those K-Mart specials. But it had been bought with love and delivered under the tree with even more love. And honestly, that was really--- really--- really! All that mattered.

"He has to let you see Danny, it's in the agreement. If he doesn't honor the agreement he will go to jail, I promise you." Now in her mind's eye, she could see Jules sitting up, his boxer shorts loose around his hips, his white chest bare, his bony shoulders heaving in annoyance. He would raise a hand--- a drummer's thick palms---and run them through his lank light brown hair in agitation. She loved that he was agitated for her sake. He didn't tell her to buck up. He pretended like Casey didn't have a huge hold on each of them, and they could actually be defiant.

"He won't go to jail for not letting me see Danny, Jules. Who is really going to stop him? The system is overrun with deadbeat-dads and druggie moms. No, he still holds all the cards."

"If I call the authorities they'll have to do something."

"Is Bridge there?" She changed the subject, he'd been with Bridget the night before, maybe she was still there.

"Yeah. She's zonkered." His voice held affection and admiration. Julian loved Bridget even though they were actually divorced and on separate paths. And even though they were divorced, they still slept together. Tracy knew how much Bridget meant to him.

"Okay, don't wake her. I can call her later."

"Michael said you kicked ass today in the studio." He went along with the neutral subjects, knowing the pain Casey inflicted.

Tracy was startled, recalling being snippy at Greg and Jimmy. Then she relaxed, "I got a lot done. We finished Radical, and Images. We worked hard on the new piano solo part in Never Gonna Live."

"You still want me on drums for that?"

"When will you be here?"

"I get in Thursday, but I can be available Friday for you."

"You're working with Anthony Sieverts?" A really popular guitarist they both admired.

He grunted. She pictured him getting water, looking out over the ocean in Brighton, England. His flat wasn't big, but it was on the water. She closed her eyes, reliving the closest she'd been to the ocean today---- oh, how she missed the ocean! What she wouldn't give right now to be out on it---- surfing, riding the waves.

"He was on drugs, wasn't he?" Julian's voice was ragged, not wanting to admit the truth--- that his best friend--- the man he called his savior--- the boy who had taken him in, when he was a little-lost runaway on his own in a foreign country, could possibly still be snorting coke and not getting help. They'd both agreed to get into recovery at the beginning of summer--- and Casey had supposedly checked into a rehabilitation facility in Temecula. Every time he talked to him, Casey painted a rosy picture.

Tracy's voice held the same sadness. "Coke----powder--- but I think I saw track marks on his arm."

"Turn him in, Trace. It's the best way to get him into recovery." Julian spoke from experience. He and Bridget might still be married if it wasn't for the drugs. Drugs had almost killed him and had for sure practically ruined his life.

"When-----." She sighed, fingering the quilt again, her eyes opened and she stared at the little plastic framed pictures on the headboard---- she and Casey surfing, she and Bridget at the mall, all glammed up at the Premiere of Eight Arms to Hold You, Pepper's Alignment's first movie. She shook herself--- good times--- hard times. "When I found you and helped you--- you were grateful, humble, ready to make a change, Jules. Casey isn't. And he has an agenda. He wants me for some sick, twisted promotional campaign and getting the band back together."

Julian's explosion was abrupt, and actually quite loud for such a soft-spoken guy. "Well, the band will not be getting together under these terms, I tell you right now. I'm sober--- I'm working---- Bridge is sober and working and going to school. None of us are babies anymore that he can boss around and tell what to do." The fight went out of him just as quickly. "And he can't keep Danny from you."

Tracy stood, glad this phone had been replaced with the new wireless one, and wandered across the hall to Casey's teenage bedroom, pushed opened the door that had not been completely closed and flipped the switch. Beside her, on the dresser, the weird lava light came on giving the room very little illumination, but reminding her of the many---- no, bazillion--- nights spent jamming and doggie piling in this room.

"He can--- he does."

"Trace--- maybe---- maybe you just need to let it go. You know---- this is too hard on you, and you give him too much power over you. With your eyes wide open you allow this, and it's just plain sick. Maybe it's time to just be you--- and let Danny go."

Tracy felt like he had just punched her in the stomach. He--- who knew best how she felt--- who she thought understood. "How--- how can you even suggest such a thing?"

"I know, I know!" Julian was quick to reassure. "It's not an easy decision, but Tracy! He has so much control! You give him that with your love for his son."

"He's my son! He's my baby!" She broke down now, and slid to the floor, her back to the door as it clicked closed, her hand covering her eyes as the tears slipped out. This time, they came in force--- clogging her eyes and her throat--- images of the little squirt, fire-topped swimming flash of energy---- She was shaking. "I can't." She moaned, pounding the carpet with her ineffectual fist. "I can't, Jules. Don't say it ever again. I can't."

"Okay." His voice was defeated as if he'd had to give it a shot anyway, knowing what her answer would be. "I'll be there in a few days, Trace, and we'll hang out."

"Not here." She twisted the shag viciously, staring around her in rising tension. The band posters curling on the light blue wall--- written on with permanent markers in fits of teenage defiance--- made her feel claustrophobic.

"No--- we'll go to my apartment, or you can stay in yours at Rocks."

"Not a fan. We'll stay at yours. Bring Bridge--- yes?"

"She won't leave the country. She's got finals, don't you?"

"Yes!" Her whisper screech was beyond frustrated. She did have finals to be studying for--- she would fail Child Psychology, fail anat and phys, fail it all if she didn't clamp down on herself and do the damn work! This was college they were talking about! College!

"Don't freak out." Julian commanded, blowing out his breath. "I'll be there. Okay? I'll be there Thursday."

She sighed, forcing her wooden legs to stand. "I'm going surfing."

"It's night--- by yourself?" Alarm bells went off in his head--- Tracy knew it too as she padded back down the hall and kicked her door in frustration. She hadn't even brought all her books--- just the anat and phys.

"Yes. My--- headache is coming back."

He was still for a second too long. "You're still having headaches?"

"You know I am." She sighed and flopped on the bed, working the zipper on her bag with her toes ineffectually.

"Today? You had another one today?"

"It put me in the hospital. You said you knew."

"Michael said you tried to jump out of the car. Not that you had a headache."

"This is why I'm going to the beach---- it clears my head. Then I can study for a while."

"Not in the room." Julian ordered, both of them knowing to what room he referred--- too many memories, too much water under the bridge.

"No--- I'm in my room." This room had officially been hers for going on three years. It was drab, it was bland, it had no character--- it was perfect.

His sigh was heartfelt, and she knew he cared about her more than any other girl--- not girlfriend--- he'd had quite a few, and a wife, and a love of his life--- one and the same. But he was her brother--- her soul mate. They'd decided that a long time ago. Nothing could change or replace those feelings. Nothing. Knowing it just made it all the better.

"Okay--- go clear your head. I'll be there Thursday."

Reassurance flooded her. "Um hm." They hung up--- never ever saying the dreaded words--- good-bye. Because they never would.

******