By Trynia Merin

Disclaimer: The members of KISS are real persons, and their makeup and albums are property of their organization and kiss Catalogue. However the characters in this story are based on their lives, for fan fiction reasons only. No harm is intended. This is an alternate fictional account of how Paul and Gene got together as a pair of musicians, so certain liberties have been taken. But other facts remain to make this a convincing story. Other characters involved not based on real persons are property of the author. Thanks to Eisencookie for help with developing and suggesting story ideas!

On Friday afternoon, Ray walked along with Gloria toward her house. Since her parents were away yet again, visiting her grandparents up in Connecticut, Ray thought it wouldn’t harm to bring her friend over for an after work cup of coffee. Still dressed in their formal work clothes, the two women lazily meandered their way through the streets of modest sized homes with front lawns.

Gloria Steinmetz brushed a stray curl of hair from her glasses and looked admiringly at Ray’s parent’s front lawn. Geraniums, peonies and daffodils all brightly bloomed in the sunlight. Spring was in the air, and it was good for them both. However, a dark cloud had settled in on Ray’s comfortable world. For the man she had spent the last weekend with had not yet called. Her body still ached with sweet pain from their long intense weekend together. It had been unlike anything she had ever before experienced, and she thirsted for more. Absence from him had made her heart grow much fonder. Now it was a Friday afternoon, and she longed for some contact with him. It had been difficult to ward off the persistent Harold Blake, the young teacher who had offered to help her pass her state boards. He was a close friend with Mark Rodgers, another man who had shown interest in her, a young student teacher. It was Mark who had offered to help her pass her state boards, and Mark who had contracted double pneumonia and was since still passing time in the hospital.

She had double dated him with Sharon Martin and Andrew Jones, two friends she had known most of her life. Harold was already a teacher, an English teacher, and he worked in Gene’s school. Mark and Harold were old college buddies, both of them having graduated from Cornell like she had, except the year before. They had been casual dates, with some necking involved, not as intense as her previous boyfriend Ted Shane had been in college. Before this past weekend she had been nervously fending off Harold’s advances because despite the fact he seemed nice enough, he sometimes bored her out of her mind. Not to mention he did not share the same interests in music as she. He liked the Beatles, but cared nothing for anything save pop and jazz. His kisses were sloppy and his hands groping and pinching in their few necking sessions. They had not gone out since last Thanksgiving when she’d brought him home to meet her parents. Of course they were thrilled. And when she had gone on a date with Mark at the last Teacher’s ball, they were also thrilled. Either one her parents consistently bugged her about, especially considering the topic of marriage.

"You’re awful quiet," Gloria nudged her, as they walked up the steps of her front porch and she unlocked the door.

"Oh, just thinking," she said.

"Didn’t you like the cake we got you for your birthday?" she asked. Ray winced at the mention of birthday, for it had been a few days earlier, and she was remembering Harold and Andrew with Sharon and other family friends there showering her with gifts. Harold had handed her a package he had said was from Mark, and when ray opened it she was floored. It was a lovely woman’s watch, with quartz movement and a gold band. Such a gift seemed tantamount to going steady. Reluctantly she’d accepted it, deciding to turn it down would upset him and her parents. On Harold’s insistence, they had gone out to dinner together with Sharon and Andrew, to celebrate afterwards. Drinks and a candlelit bar fused into her brain, as did the fact that Harold got smashed and Sharon and Andrew had to take him in a cab home that Tuesday night. She fingered the watch on her wrist, feeling a slight pang of guilt. But it wasn’t really a date technically, if it was Mark who had sent her the present. What would Gene think if he’d seen it?

"It was great," she smiled, letting Gloria into the foyer of her parent’s home. Gloria had been here a few times before to meet her family, and they were pleasant enough with her. Yet she sensed a strange look in her father’s eyes sometimes, and she knew what it was. The Star of David hanging around Gloria’s neck, which she wore openly, was a constant reminder of the prejudices that lurked in the dark heart of a suburban neighborhood of Scottish/Protestants.

Two mewing cats greeted her, nudging her ankles and then moving onto Gloria who smiled. "Settle down Pumpkin... socks!" she groaned. "Food is ON the way!"

"I do have to say every time I come here what a nice place your parents have," Gloria said, glancing at the collector’s plates and other bric a brack her mother was so fond of accumulating. "Which reminds me, I forgot to give something to you earlier this week…"

"Thanks," she smiled, letting her in.

"And you want to leave THIS to stay with GENE?" Gloria teased. Ray turned around blushing red.

"Umm... well why don't we have some coffee..." she mumbled, embarrassed.

"Absolutely.... With cream?" Gloria asked. Ray took her coat and hung it up, then saw Gloria hold out a small wrapped package. She took it with a smile, and walked with Gloria into the kitchen.

"What’s this?"

"A birthday present from me," Gloria smiled, as Ray opened the card and they entered the kitchen.

"Aww THANKS!" she smiled.

"Do you want to open your present NOW or later?" Gloria asked. Ray ripped open the paper, and saw it was an attractive mug bearing a picture of an apple with a little worm coming out of it, and the words "World’s best Teacher" above it.

"You are too much," she grinned, and Gloria held out her arms for a hug. Ray went to her and both friends embraced.

"I had to get your something appropriate. Hopefully you can put this on your desk when Gene helps you past those state boards…"

At the mention of his name, a wave of hurt momentarily passed through Ray. He had forgotten her birthday, after she had made it known when it was. It was a festering sore that she had suppressed the past week, and other small ugly rumors had circulated from Harold’s school that were whispered on the lips of other teachers. Some of them had even crept to Andrew and Harold that night, when both men were somewhat plastered.

Both had mentioned the ‘weird teacher’ who was the horror film nut. Ray’s mind slipped back to that evening as she pulled down the percolator and assembled the metal basket on its mini stand. Gloria found the coffee and handed it to her, while Ray lit the stove and poured water in the pot. Automatically she sank the basket laden with coffee into the top of the pot and put the glass lid on.

"Ray, Ray?" asked Gloria, shaking her arm. "Are you okay? Coffee’s ready."

Ray jerked out of her reminiscing when Gloria put a hand on her arm and pointed to the perking coffee. As with the Maxwell house commercial, it was ready and hot. Shyly she apologized, "Sorry Gloria. Just thinking about something else..."

"I’ll say, you must be on Mars now. You’re spacing out on me! You sure you’re okay?"

"I’m fine," ray sighed. "Why don’t you sit down and I’ll serve up some coffee… I made some chocolate chip cookies…"

"Let me help, I know where the cups are," Gloria shooed her hands away. Together they got down coffee cups and plates. Gloria set them on a tray while Ray grabbed the half and half from the fridge, and the sugar from the cupboard. She reached into the cookie jar and pulled out four or five chocolate chip cookies she had baked earlier that week and set them on a plate.

Both women sat at the kitchen table, nibbling on cookies. Ray poured coffee for Gloria, then herself, and both women set about fixing their beverages the way they liked it. Gloria whitened hers with cream while Ray spooned sugar into her coffee absently. Gloria bent down to pet one of the cats, as Socks rubbed up against her ankles. She asked, "Ray, what’s wrong Hun? You thinking about Gene? I'm assuming that things are still going well."

"Um... yes," Ray blushed, still spooning sugar into her coffee.

"He's got his endearing qualities, I suppose." she watches Ray, a twinkle in her eye. "I mean I did have time to observe him in college…"

"You did say you guys were at school together," Ray sighed.

"He's a hard one to pin down, you know." she said, "Just when you think you have him all figured out, he goes and stick his face in those comic books and retreats." she chuckled.

"How well do you know him?" she asks, offering Gloria some cookies.

"Not THAT well, if that’s what you're asking." she winked, taking a cookie for herself.

"OH I’m doomed..." she groaned. "Did he have some other bands before Bullfrog Bheer? He mentioned Long Island sounds."

"Gene and I have been friends for years. I guess I know him as well as anyone, except for his mother, I suppose."

"Oh man..." Ray blushed.

"I remember he had a band way back when...something about Love Bag or Love Gun or Love something. They stunk," Gloria said, taking a sip of coffee.

"What?" she giggled, sipping her coffee. Gloria watched in amusement as Ray made a face and spit her coffee out into her napkin.

"YUCK!"

"Probably because you started Sugar Mountain in there," she winked. "Next time you're going to get fidgety over Gene talk, leave your coffee sweetening until AFTER the convo."

"I... have one question. Did you tell Gene about me… I have a feeling we didn't accidentally run into each other at that comic book store out of CHANCE."

She looked away a bit, grinning, "I did tell him there might be someone of interest for him."

"You're terrible!" she groans, and glimpses the Star of David around Gloria's neck.

"He sometimes has a hard time meeting decent women. And I'm here to HELP." she teased. "Because if there's ANYONE who could use a wife to look after him, it's Gene."

"I don't think he's the marrying kind," she said with a sigh.

"You never know. Guy gets lonely enough...he'll do desperate things."

"But I hardly know him... But yet... he's so... NICE..."

"Not that marrying you is a DESPERATE thing, Ray," she said quickly, "But you know what I meant."

She shivered at the memory of his touch, and sighed deeply, pouring herself another cup of coffee, "I know Gloria. He’s made me feel what no other man has. Not even Mark. Or Harold or Ted."

"But he IS a musician, don't forget, and you know they are all vagabonds at heart, so maybe you shouldn't get TOO attached, if you know what I mean."

"I know," she sighed, fingering the cross around her neck for a moment. "You know what happened at his band rehearsal? Some kid was asking to use his equipment, and one of his mates called this kid a racial slur. Gene was pissed. I felt so ashamed of what I was at that moment. Cause it was that mike jerk... and those girls in the kitchen were talking about Gene behind his back... I was ready to strangle them."

She looked at Ray a minute, and shrugged, "That's everywhere, you know. We have to deal with it all the time."

"It's not RIGHT," Ray banged the table with her hand.

"No, it's not, but all you can do is lead your life by example and leave all these assholes in the dust," said Gloria firmly. "And, like Gene did, knock a few heads when you have to."

"Yes," she nodded, raising an eyebrow at how Gloria used the word asshole. "I've never had anyone hate who I was... and I just felt so angry for Gene... he mentioned something about his mom almost dying... and then he stopped... was his mom... in one of those... camps in WW2?"

"Ray...he doesn't like to talk about it often, but she was. And there were quite a few fatalities in his family because of it," Gloria sighed, washing her last bite of cookie away with a sip of coffee. "But good luck trying to get anything out of Gene."

"OH god," she whispered, hand over her mouth.

"When your relatives die due to some freaking bigot...it changes your attitude. Even if Gene never knew them."

"I know," she whispered. "IN my ancestry the Scots were persecuted... By the English... Just for trying to fight for freedom... all the way back to William Wallace..."

"Well, I guess you have some knowledge. Most people nowadays still claim the concentration camps were a hoax," Gloria winced in anger.

"Bull shit," Ray mumbled.

"Have you.... Uh...met Gene's mom?" Gloria asked, changing the uncomfortable subject.

"Not yet, Glor. I wonder what she'd think of me... I wonder what his friends think of me..." Ray sips her coffee and nibbles on a cookie thinking of Gene at that moment, and how miserable she felt about him. How could she tell his good friend how annoyed she was about him forgetting her birthday, when it seemed very trivial compared to what Gene’s mother had gone through. Still she was a bit hurt he hadn't called her in almost five days.

"Gene's not really big on friends, I've noticed. You always just sort of see HIM."

"I haven't seen him for 5 days," she whispered. "I wonder if he's forgotten about me. And he forgot my birthday. I don’t’ want to sound like a baby…"

"So...call him," Gloria pats her hand. "Did you TELL him when it was…"

"Uh well, I figured you might have since YOU told me about him," she mumbled crossly.

"Good excuse to call him," Gloria laughed. "Set him STRAIGHT then."

The phone rang, and Ray jumped with an odd feeling. She shivered and rose up to get it.

"Hello?" she asked.

"I don't suppose there's a beautiful woman at home, is there?" he said in a low seductive growl.

"Hmm, it depends," she whispered, glancing nervously at Gloria. Gloria smiled and waved at her as she discreetly left the room.

"Let me go water your mom's flowers!" she waved, and exited the back door with the watering can.

"Oho, a TEASE?" Gene said. "Well would you tell that pretty lady HAPPY BIRTHDAY for me then?"

"Thank you," Ray smiled, melting inside. He had remembered, albeit a few days late. It seemed promising.

"You’re welcome doll," Gene said richly.

"Uh... Gene. Where were you?" she asked, a bit indignant. "I haven't seen you for 4 days..."

"Here. Why do you ask?' he said, slowly chomping an apple.

"Uh... no reason," she said softly.

"Or are you referring to the fact that I haven't called?" he said pointedly.

"I didn't see you at lunch..." she whispered.

"I know, Hon," he said distractedly. "And sometimes it's good to go a few days maybe without seeing each other. Every once in awhile."

"I guess it is good," she said slowly. "If you need your space I understand."

"Because that makes me want to spend time with you even MORE tonight," said Gene. "I needed some space.... Now I need some Ray." he grins.

"All right," she said shyly. "You really DO it to me sometimes... make me speechless..."

"Gloria told me your parents were out of town again."

"Yes," she said, twisting her finger around the phone cord. It seemed criminal what his mere voice was starting inside her body, sending little shivers all over her spine despite the ugly suspicions that rested at the back of her thoughts.

"And that gives me an idea. In honor of your BIRTHDAY…"

"What, Hon?" she asked slowly.

"How about I take you somewhere tonight...somewhere DIFFERENT?" he said cryptically.

"OHHH a man of mystery, I like," she purred, gaining self-confidence. After all, Harold and Andrew, what did THEY know? "How should I dress?"

"Umm, I don't KNOW, I suppose...a dress maybe? But something flirty. Or some nice sexy pants," he said, and she heard the gnawing of an apple core on the phone. "We're sort of on a mission."

"Hmm," she mumbled, biting into a cookie. "I think I can find something... appropriate. What time should I expect you?"

"Hmmm. 8:00 maybe? I'll take you to a quickie dinner, then on to the... experiment," he said.

"How about seven," she whispered. "I'll be hungry by then..."

He chuckled evilly, "Even better."

"I'll be waiting," she smiled.

"And Ray.... Put on that perfume of your moms that I like."

"The Chanel number 5?" she asked, finishing her cookie and further snaring her fingers in the phone cord.

"Don't know it's name, but I DEFINITELY can't forget the smell of it on you," he growls again.

"I look forward to seeing you... love," she said in a sultry voice.

"And don't just put it on your neck. Put it other places too," he teased her, knowing she is most likely blushing.

"Gene, you are a devil," she giggled. "You're naughty as anything."

"And you're my angel," he chuckled. "Be ready at 7:00. No, make that 6:45."

"Oh even better," she purred. "I'll see you... I MISS you... Things are boring around here without you."

"They're boring here too, doll. Hey, and bring your sleeping bag," he smiled as he licks apple juice from his fingers.

"All right," she giggled. "What, no bed? This is different..."

"Hmmm. You in my bed. Let me think about it," he teased back.

"I'm starting to think I'm boring you," she teased him.

He chuckles amusedly, "Let's see after tonight. I'm definitely not bored now."

"Go on and get ready you horrible man," she pouted. She paced the floor for a moment, feeling doubt resurface. Unseen, Gloria had reentered the room and was watching her carefully.

He said, "Night, love."

"Goodbye," she whispered. Gene hung up after her exit greeting.

"Now by the words 'horrible man', I can only assume that's Gene," Gloria said with an amused smile on her face.

"Yes," she said, turning around. "He invited me on a 'mission', and told me to bring a sleeping bag..."

"A SLEEPING bag?" she chuckled, "Gene? He's not exactly the outdoor type, is he?"

"I don't know," she said slowly, moving towards the stairs. Half of her was wondering to herself if Gene would show up, she rushed up to her room with Gloria behind her.

"I have a funny feeling... am I going nuts? He just asked me out... but why am I suddenly doubting if he'll show up?"

"I can't imagine Gene would take the time and energy to call you if he wasn't planning on showing. Besides, if he stands you up, he'll hear about it from me," she said, eyes blazing a bit.

"After I said that last statement he just said night love... it sounded like a kiss off," she mumbled.

"Ray, you worry too much," she frowned. "If Gene Klein said he'll be here, he will. If he didn't want you, he'd move on to someone else. And that's a FACT."

"Oh... sorry for doubting," she blushed. "I just need advice on what to wear..."

"He give you any tips?" Gloria asked as they entered her room. Ray began digging through her closet, throwing down dresses and pulling pants down from their clip hangers.

"Uh a dress or sexy pants," Ray mumbled, glancing at her bell-bottoms with flowers painted on them.

"So, wear maybe a little cocktail dress. Something sexy but never overdressed."

"I don't know if I have one," she mumbled, leafing through her dress and bell-bottoms.

"Maybe a cocktail dress with some boots. THESE for example." she holds up some black leather go-go boots from the bottom of her closet.

"Wow..." she giggled. "I FORGOT I had those…"

"Something to accentuate your curves. You've got it. Flaunt it," said Gloria with a wink, handing her the boots.

Ray grabbed a green minidress, and a black one, then a pink miniskirt with some crazy pattern on it. She mumbled as she held up various combinations, and Gloria shook her head no, or nodded.

"I like the black one," she said.

"Uh it's sleeveless," Ray contemplated it, realizing it was above the knee with a bit of ruffle around the bottom of the skirt with a pleat on both sides, and ruffles around the sleeveless scoop neck with its thin straps.

"And wear some funky jewelry," Gloria said.

"I have these," Ray mumbled, leafing through her box. She came up with some native American turquoise jewelry, a choker on silver bars with a large turquoise flat piece the size of a silver dollar in is center. With it came earrings with flat silver feathers hanging from what appeared to be pieces of turquoise shaped like horse heads.

"And put up your hair, for once," Gloria pulled her hair back with a frown and casually piled it on top of Ray’s head. "No pigtails braids, or pony tails!"

"There! I love it," Gloria clapped, as she showed her the Indian jewelry. Even a silver turquoise bracelet with a thunderbird on it matched the ensemble.

"Now if he takes you somewhere nice, you'll fit right in, and if he doesn't, he'll look like a schlep."

"And a shawl," she said, pulling out a scarf with multicolored swirls on it. "This dress needs a flash of color.

"Look, I've got to run, sweetie, and you've got tons to do. Give me a call when you get back to earth," she smiled, leaning over to kiss Ray on the cheek.

"Bye!" she waved, and kissed her back at the corner of Gloria’s lips. "Thanks Gloria..."

"Tell Gene I said to take GOOD care of you," Gloria said, hugging her tightly for moral support. She wagged her finger as she left the room.

"I will," she nodded, and sighed as she started to get dressed.

By the time six thirty rolled around she had packed her overnight case with a change of casual clothes or 2, and her new lacey nightgown. It was seafoam green, with capped sleeves and flared around her legs like a cloud of spring. For a wicked indulgent moment she half wondered what Gene would think when he saw her in it. At the next moment her contemplation was spoiled by a nagging suspicion. Suppose Harold and Andrew HAD been right in their assessment of Gene picking up women? Maybe that was why he hadn’t called for five days. Had she gone too far in telling him her feelings? Flaring with embarrassment she tugged the laces on her boot tightly to lace them up. Fishnet stockings had completed the ensemble she now wore. As she sat on the edge of the bed, she slipped on the other boot, lacing it up quickly. In the mirror of her bureau she glimpsed her reflection of the top half of herself at least. Ray stood up on the high-heeled boots that put her up to about five foot eight. Surely now she’d be more of a match for Gene in height. Slowly she experimented walking in them, accustomed to wearing two-inch heels at work. These were no worse she thought as she paced back and forth in front of her floor length mirror.

"Wow," she mumbled to herself. "I look damn good…"

Grabbing her mother’s perfume bottle she spritzed herself with Chanel behind both ears, and then over her breasts, nestled in the top of her dress with her underwire bra. The dress was slightly form fitting on the top and shoulders, holding in her waist a bit. Plus the neatly arranged bun made of a long coiled braid set well on the back of her head. All in all very nice indeed. If she did have to compete for his attention, she was well-armed under Gloria’s instruction.

She grabbed a funky blazer with off colored orange and gold flowers festooning it, slipping it around her shoulders. It somehow coordinated with the sash around her waist that hid the slight bulge of her stomach. Finally she grabbed her toilet article bag and stuffed it in the top of her small hard overnight suitcase. Clicking it shut she locked it with the key she put in her purse, hard plastic and double handled.

"Now, the sleeping bag," she grinned, grabbing her overnight case and walking down the stairs. She set the bag down with her purse at the foot of the stairs and opened the closet door beneath the stairs where her father stashed the camping equipment. Selecting her dad’s double sleeping bag she tugged it down and rested it beside the overnight case. Sheathed in its waterproof bag with the drawstring it made a nice neat bundle only an army veteran or Boy Scout could execute.

By the time six forty five chimed on the grandfather clock, she was finishing her makeup in the living room mirror. Anxiously she awaited Gene’s arrival. Yet when the next five minutes dragged she began to despair. Sighing, she sat down on the couch and breathed deeply to settle her nerves. With a grin she went over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of her mom’s best Taylor Sherry. She poured herself a bit and sipped it slowly to take the edge off her nerves.

As she sipped another mouthful she heard the doorbell ringing. Glancing at the clock she noticed it was 6:55. Nervously she tossed back the rest of her drink, licking her lips and running to the kitchen to rinse out the glass and put it in the dish rack. Taking one last glance at herself for assurance she trotted over to the door and peered out the beveled glass. A tall figure swirled, his features slightly distorted as he waited outside. She glimpsed dark black hair and leather and excitedly unbolted the door on Gene. There he stood, his long legs sheathed in tight jeans, which only flared out at the mid-calf and down over the tips of his pointed toed leather boots. They were steel tipped. She walked her eyes back up his body to his wide lapel open necked shirt, which bore a diagonal brown striped design, his hairy chest visible through the neck. Overtop he wore a leather coat, brown in color and half belted with large pockets. He had both hands behind his back, his light brown eyes suddenly widening as they took her in.

Gene opened his mouth to say something, then shut it with surprise. He gasped,

"Damn, you look...red hot."

"You like? Gloria suggested it," she said with a confident grin that masked her nervousness inside. She turned a half circle to show off her backside and legs that had the illusion of being longer then he was accustomed to.

"Come in," she said, reaching out her hand, her fingers tipped with soft mahogany nail polish. Gene extended is hand and took hers, kissing the back lightly.

"I missed you, baby," he smiled, drawing her close to press a soft kiss to her lips. Leaning up she put her arms around his neck and kept her lips there for a moment before drawing back. Gene still kept one arm around her waist, then glanced down at her things piled by the foot of the steps.

"What is THAT for?" he chuckled.

"You SAID... bring one," she joked. "But I’m beginning to think you’re pulling my leg."

"I was," he smiled, eyes crawling all over her. "But it's a beautiful leg to pull."

"Mmm do tell," she smiled, ushering him in.

"Unless you'd PREFER to sleep in a thin cotton taco shell, rather than my NICE warm bed."

"I'd sleep in your bed anyday, Mr. Klein," she winked.

He grins at her and whips a red rose from behind his back, presenting it to her with an exaggerated bow, "A rose for the birthday girl…"

"OH..." she gasped.

"Just a token to tell her how much she's been missed," he winked.

"Thank you kind sir," she dropped a curtsey. "Damn you look good. Very uh... TIGHT pants..."

"I know," he grinned. "Are you ready to go?"

"Shall we?" she asked, reaching for her long leather coat. Gene grabbed it from her and helped her into it. He walked over and grabbed her bag, and the sleeping bag. Stuffing the bag under his arm, he held her overnight case in his other.

"Follow me," he smiled, holding out his hand to her.

"Wait I thought you said you didn't need the sleeping bag..." she gasped as he tugged her out with him, and kicked the door shut. "I need to lock the door…"

"I haven't decided yet. We may still need it," he said mysteriously.

He let her for a moment, then took her hand again and urged her down the front steps of the porch. "Want to know where we're going?" he said, turning his head toward her as he walked down the front walk.

"Okay," she laughed, running to keep pace with him. "Where are we going?"

AT the curb she noticed a yellow cab waiting for them. The driver popped the trunk when he saw them approach, and gene handed the bags for him to stow. He opened the door for Ray, and insisted she climb in first before he slid in next to her. He shut the door, and smiled at her mysteriously.

"Remember that Stanley kid? The one at Steve's?" he asked. "He called me a few days back. He wants to show me how badly he needs out of his piece of shit band. He wants to show me what he can do. Soooo, we're going to a teen dance." he grins

"And....hear him play."

"Oh boy, I bet he IS desperate," she joked. The cab pulled away from the curb, into her front street. For a moment she glimpsed back and forth to see if anyone spotted them, but she only noticed someone down the street climbing into their car. It wasn’t a neighbor she knew very well, thank goodness. For once she set foot in that cab, she had crossed the threshold from her world into Gene’s.

"And we get to watch him play. Worse comes to worse, we can make fun of him, then leave early," Gene laughed, reaching out to take her hand. "Besides.... He claims he's got more songs he wants me to hear. Songs he's never shown anyone before."

"Sounds like fun," she smiled. "I was wondering what happened to that kid."

"He's called me three or four times now. I think he kind of liked that I...huh.... Stood up for him."

"I liked how you stood up for him," she said, squeezing his hand.

"Ahhhhh, he's just a kid," Gene said, looking sheepish. "Besides I think he needs a friend. Why else would he call ME three times?"

She takes his hand and squeezes it a bit, raising it to her lips for a soft kiss, "Because he looks up to you, perhaps?"

"Or he's trying to get in your pants," he teased, trying to change the subject.

"My pants, what would he see in me?" she wondered. Slowly she looked out the window suddenly feeling strangely inadequate. Why had this mood resurfaced? After all he had remembered her birthday. Still the suspicions nagged her as the conversation of two nights ago reared itself with a vengeance.

"Actually he said he's got himself a real live girlfriend now...no KIDDING! Will Steve's girlfriend turn green or WHAT?" he laughed, missing her signs.

"I think so," she said, nodding. She still kept her hand in his, growing quiet as she watched the town go by. Her thoughts turned to Mark, who had repeatedly bugged her about asking her out, and she wondered if Gene has somehow gotten wind of Mark's interest in her, and how she turned him down.

"Something wrong?" he said, looking at her. "You’re awful quiet Ray."

"Nothing," she muttered, managing a weak smile. "Nothing important... Why do you ask?"

"This doesn't sound like fun? I would have thought by now you’d be all excited asking me questions, Ray," he said, surprised. "It's just a little band business, then we can go do something else."

"Sorry to disappoint you," she choked out. "REALLY... I want to go…"

"Good, then let me see a smile," he said. "I didn’t come all this way to have you get all mopey on me…"

Again the question of what he had done over the last five days came into her mind. She sighed and took a deep breath as she asked, "Gene what DID you do the last five days? I’m just curious. Cause normally you meet me for lunch…"

"Like I said, everyone needs time away," Gene said, giving a very vague answer. "I didn’t ask you what you were doing love, now did I?"

"No you didn’t. But I guess I was thinking you had forgotten my birthday…"

"I didn’t," Gene said. "That’s why I’m here. Why are you suddenly turning Spanish inquisition on me? Is there something bothering you?"

"Its just something you said earlier about time away I guess..." she trailed off, looking him in his eyes, the same eyes she could loose herself in. "I wonder if I was coming on too strong or something."

He hesitated a moment, tugging on his shirt collar though it was already open as he cleared his throat and patted her hand, "Ray, I don't know how to say this without hurting your feelings...."

A pang of anger set hard in the pit of her stomach, dragging her mood down like a sinking rock. All the suspicions suddenly began to bubble up to the surface; dredged from the bottom of her consciousness as sludge from the bottom of a still pond.

"But I'm not really a guy who needs someone ALL the time, do you know what I'm getting at?" he continued. "But when we're together, I LOVE the time we spend. Honest to God."

"I think I do," she said slowly, pulling her hand away. Hot tears formed in her eyes as she realized the hidden meaning of his words. The answer to where he had been became woefully clear, and she suddenly felt very cheap and used at that moment. Biting her lips she stared out the window, not wanting him to see the satisfaction of her tears.

He goes to take her hand again, and said, "And it's just that I'm so busy with school and work and the band.... I see you whenever I CAN, love, I promise."

"Is there someone else?" she asked pointedly, pulling her hand away again. "Someone else? Cause if there is I'll try to understand…"

"Ray…" Gene said, turning her chin to face him.

"Maybe I’m just not your kind of girl... maybe there's something wrong with me..." she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

"Ray, now come on! Hon, we haven't seen each other in days.... Let’s just have fun, OK?" he said pleadingly, purposefully ignoring her question.

Sadness turned to quiet anger, and Ray bit her tongue. She closed her eyes, as if to blot out the tears and the reality of Gene’s world around her, a world that seemed to be crashing down around her. It was not as it seemed, but as people had suggested, and in her heart she felt sadness that perhaps Harold and Mark were right.

"You want to eat before the show, I assume?" he said, uncomfortably changing the subject.

"Yes," she whispered. "Whatever you want... Gene."

"What sounds good? There's a nice deli not far from the community center, and some kind of Lebanese joint. And pizza, I think."

"Lebanese sounds good," she said, trying to hide her tears from him. His evasiveness only heightened her suspicions, and Ray guessed that he had bid his time well. After all, he had girls by the dozens while she had lamented about if she was justified in accepting Harold and Mark’s affections. A need to suddenly leave arose in her, but getting out of a taxi in the middle of rush hour on a Friday night in this section of Manhattan didn’t appeal to her.

He glanced over at her, unsure of what to do with her black mood, and said as he patted her thigh, "I actually offered to help Stan's band carry in some equipment and set up. He told me his guitar's not worth shit, so I told him I'd look at it. So, if we can get there maybe a half an hour before the show...."

Stiffly she shifted and did not respond. She sat like a stone as they rode up to the awning of a small restaurant. The driver slid open the window and asked,

"Is this the place?"

"Yeah, that's it," Gene said, reaching in to pull his wallet out of his front pocket and fold out a few bills for the driver. Patting ray’s thigh he opened the door, and held out his hand to help her out. The trunk popped open as they got out, and she buttoned her coat against the chill of the encroaching night. He grabbed Ray's bags and held out his arm for her to walk into the restaurant.

She slipped her left arm through his, and he walked her towards the restaurant slowly. Not exchanging any words he led her through the front door and waved to the host for a table. He glanced down, and noticed her watch underneath the sleeve of her coat that had ridden up.

"Nice watch you got there," he commented as they wait for a table. "Present from daddy?"

"Um, thanks," she said, and avoided the other question. Rumors that flew around the teacher's staff room whispered through her head, and she felt a strange urge to make him feel as humiliated and used as he was doing to her right now.

"Who gave it to you?" he asked softly, with a note of something like consternation in his voice.

"A... friend gave it to me, for a belated birthday present..." she said elusively, hoping in some way he'll be jealous.

"Your table sir and ma’am," the Lebanese waiter directed them. He saw the bags at Gene’s feet and showed them a place they could keep them by the coat rack. Ray and Gene followed him to a table beside one of the windows onlooking the street. How much longer would she continue this date, she wondered? She did have an emergency supply of cash, and seeing the intermittent taxis she knew she could easily flag one down. However she needed to see what he’d next try.

"Hell of a friend," he smiled, flipping his fingers together nervously after they sat down, and took off their coats.

Ray nodded, and sipped some water. She appeared to flip through the menu, not even caring what was written as she put it between Gene and herself. Gene sighed and pulled the menu down, making eye contact; "I did...miss you."

"Did you?" she asked slowly, looking directly at him with fire in her eyes.

"Of course, I did. Why would you think I didn't? Just because I don't call every night. I don't call my MOM every night and she knows I love her." Gene said, a bit defensive.

"Because I'm beginning to think that's not exactly the case..."

"Besides, I was hoping for a nice romantic weekend, since you have nothing to go back home for," he said.

While she wanted to retort, how do you know anything about MY life, she knew it would not go well, for he would simply turn that remark against her. There was nothing now she could do but take this confrontation straight on. Summoning her strength she said, "OH... perhaps the fact that someone happened to let it slip they saw you at a club with a blonde..."

"People say all sorts of shit. Why should YOU or I care what they say?" he asked levelly.

"Makes me wonder WHY you're wasting you time with me..." she said, voice growing in volume.

"And...." Gene said cautiously.

Her temper flared, overriding her feelings of self-reproach. She pushed violently away from the table, and stood up suddenly. Grabbing her purse she hissed, "And maybe I thought you were different... just maybe..."

"Ray, for God's sake, sit down." Gene grumbled.

"Why, am I embarrassing you?" she asks angrily, fire in her eyes.

"NO, not all. I think we can sit down and talk about this like RATIONAL adults." he said, eyeing her. "And I could ask YOU where you got that watch, and ask YOU what you did the past five days, but I’m not!"

"If you must know, this watch is from MARK. Mark Rogers, by way of Harold Blake!" she said, brandishing the watch on her wrist before him. "And I turned him down THREE TIMES IN A ROW for a date. BECAUSE of you..."

He leaned back in his chair, picked up a stray pack of matches from the table and pitched it. Ray glared at him angrily as he looked at her with annoyance and said, "So you're wasting time with that piece of crap again?"

"Why, you jealous?" she asked him, a small mean streak of self-righteous gladness coursing through her. "Or is that something a rational adult wouldn't do?"

He regarded her a moment, still sitting down as he said quietly, "Maybe I am…"

"Well if being a rational adult is making time with someone else when I gave you something special, I guess I'm not into rational," she said, grabbing her coat and putting it back on.

"Now RAY, just be reasonable… if I didn’t want to spend time with you why the HELL would I drag you halfway across town…"

"I don’t know Gene Klein," she said coldly. "But if you’re so smart you figure out WHY you have the GALL to be jealous when I mention going out with someone else, especially WHEN I ask you if you’ve been with someone else and you just dismiss me like it doesn’t matter! I tell you, if you can hang out with some blonde bimbos what do you CARE who I’m with when I’m not with you!"

"Ray, those guys are ASSHOLES," Gene said angrily. "And they’re just looking for a nice WIFEY they can push around… not someone they REALLY care about…"

"Maybe I’m just wasting my time... with you," she said angrily. "If you’re so fucking smart you can maybe see that maybe I’d be better off being a damned teacher and begetting more!"

"Ray, don’t leave like this!" Gene snapped. He sat there, watching her as she pulled on her coat and stormed out. Gene exhaled and shook his head.

"It's at the Brooklyn Jewish Community Center. I hope you'll be there," he said loudly.

"Whatever," she mumbled, leaving him behind, half wondering if he would even bother to come after her. When she glanced back one last time she saw him at the table still, cursing to himself under his breath in Hungarian.

It didn’t take long for Ray to flag down a nearby cab and ask the driver to take her to the JCC in Brooklyn. Climbing in she quickly closed the door and leaned back for the long ride. All along the way she wiped angry tears out of her eyes, before she realized she had left her things behind. She cursed a bit under her breath, and wondered just WHAT gene would think when he went through her bags, if he did. She’d have to ask Gloria to go and get them when she got back.

So just why was she riding to the same destination that Gene was? To see Stanley, she told herself. Right now she could use a shoulder to cry on, and even though it had been a week since she’d seen him, she hoped she made enough of an impression for him to remember. Possibly she could ask him if he knew about what Gene had been doing. Part of her still held out hope that she could salvage the relationship, and hoped that her message had come through loud and clear.

The cab pulled up before the JCC, and she handed the fare and tip to the driver. He smiled and waved goodbye, his eyes walking up and down her outfit. Ray sighed and squared her shoulders as she approached the other people filing into the large cement postmodern building. It looked as if it had been built in the earlier part of the decade, and she had realized it was just like a YMCA. After all she had gone with Gloria to her local JCC to use the pool sometimes before or after work for a swim. It shouldn’t be any different. What event was Stanley playing at, she wondered? A bar mitzvah?

Her eye saw the signs put up that said "Spring Yeshiva dance," and chuckled. Several bands were listed and she followed the clots of teenagers, dressed in suits and nice knee and floor length dresses. Tickets were being sold down the hall, and she pulled out her two dollars and put it down with a smile before the teenaged girl selling tickets.

"Right this way," she smiled, stamping Ray’s hand. No questions asked. She felt well dressed enough to hang her coat at the extensive rack on the door and simply go in with her purse. Moving past the door monitor, a young fifteen year old boy he waved her through once she presented the mark on the back of her hand. Recorded music was already playing from a record player hooked to quadraphonic speakers in the large gymnasium. Already teenagers moved to and fro amongst tables of refreshment and punch against the back wall. Parents and chaperones stood about, watching carefully to make sure nobody was dancing too closely.

She made her way over and filled a plate with food. There was all manner of kosher food, and she hastily devoured several tuna fish and Rueben sandwiches. Not to mention the potato chips and cookies washed down with some punch made of sherbet and gallons of seven up. Those teens not in suits wore nice trendy clothes like corduroy pants and plaid shirts, or very nice jeans. So when she walked to the back where a stage with curtains was, she couldn’t’ help but notice the youths dragging in their equipment up the stairs. She recognized Matt Rael at once; sitting on the edge of the stage with a young blonde girl who was wearing a beret and a very long skirt that came to her ankles. She wore sandals and a loose pea coat. Both appeared to be very familiar with each other, and she wondered who Stanley’s girlfriend was.

A tall youth with a fedora jammed over his curly hair dragged an amplifier up to the stairs. She saw the dark eyes glancing up the stage, not noticing Matt with his paramour, and rushed over to him at once. His bell-bottoms were stylish and funky, the chain link belt hanging around his hips as he turned his back to her. He tugged off his long coat and threw it down, revealing the leather fringed vest and pooka beads hanging around his neck, his arms and chest covered in the paisley shirt tucked into his jeans. He had a nice ass, she thought.

"Stanley!" she shouted. "Stanley EISEN!"

He jerked his head around, his dark eyes searching for the source of his name. Ray tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to look at her in surprise. A smile coursed over his attractive face as he said, "Ray! Nice to see you! Where’s Gene?"

"Hello," she said, sniffling.

"Ray!" he smiled, "Where's Gene?"

"Don't ask," she started to cry. "Shit I'm sorry... Stan I just..."

"Something WRONG?" he said, looking worried.

"Yes..." she sniffled.

"Crap, don't tell me he did something," Stan started, resting his hand on her shoulder. She noticed through her tears that his fingers were long and thin, his hands much larger then Gene’s.

"Can we talk for a moment?" she asked. "I really need a friend."

"Gene's a nice guy, from what I can tell, but he's a little...uh...full of himself," he said. "I’m busy setting stuff up, but you can come over and talk to me while I’m putting this crap up… let me just tell my girl real quick, OK?"

"Go ahead," she sniffled, wandering over to watch him from a distance. To her shock he walked up to the girl flirting with Matt and put his arms around her neck from behind. She turned around with a start and giggled at him.

"What the hell," Ray mumbled to herself.

"Casey," he smiled. "You okay?"

"I’m fine," she grinned, suspiciously. Ray noticed the lipstick smudge on Matt’s face was the same color as the lipstick Casey wore. Stan looked at him suspiciously, but let it go. Ray sensed that he was very insecure where Casey was concerned.

"I didn't see you there," she giggled at Stanley, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Did you get your ticket yet, the dance I mean? We don't get any comp tickets," he said.

"I have it," Matt laughed, handing it to Casey.

"Thanks," Stanley sighed, taking it from Matt and handing it to her. She grinned and gave another annoying high-pitched giggle that grated on Ray’s ears.

"Thank you Stanley," she smiled, pocketing the ticket and giving a kooky toss of her long straight blonde hair.

"And if you need money, I might have a little." he said, digging in his pocket.

"Don't bother, Matt's got it covered," she giggled. "He has money for all of us…"

Ray watched, shaking her head, as if she suspected what's going on behind Stan's back. This was a sad tableau indeed, and she felt angry for him. A sense of protectiveness flooded over her, and she slowly and casually wandered over to see what she could do. Was it because he reminded her of a cousin of hers, or was it something more then sisterly concern?

"Oh, well, I DO have money..." Stan responded, flustered as he pushed the money into Casey’s hand. "Take this just in case you need to buy a can of pop or something."

"No thanks, it's okay. You have so little, I don’t' want to impose," she handed it back.

"You’re NOT imposing, Hon," he said, feeling very awkward, "I don’t care."

"I got it covered," Matt laughed. "You’ll need plenty of pop for this show."

Stanley wrinkled his nose at something, and ray smelled it too as she stood behind Stanley two paces. It was the unmistakable aroma of pot, something she’d smelled in the clubs when she’d gone into the Village. That and Casey’s excessive giggling bore witness to the fact that she and Matt had been toking.

Ray walked over to them, holding out her hand and saying, "Hello Casey is it? I'm ray. Stan said SO much about you..."

Stanley whirled around in surprise to see Ray move up from behind him. Casey giggled and shook Ray’s hand, saying, "You're a classy broad to be hanging around with us kids."

She smacked Stanley on the ass, and then pinched Matt’s butt. He leapt up grinning and started to tickle her. Stanley stepped back, flushing in embarrassment. Ray’s eyes burned with anger as Stan watched the two of them, unsure of what to do.

"Ray, this is my girlfriend." Stan said, shuffling his feet. "Casey, this is my good friend Ray, she’s Gene’s girlfriend."

"Stan, why don't you tell her about your band," Casey giggled.

"Well this is Tree," Stanley said pointing to his group assembling the drum kit and setting up the borrowed amplifiers from Gene’s band. "Matt you already know…"

Ray listened as he told her the other names. They seemed also to be in a haze of cigarette smoke. That she could handle because her father smoked a pipe, but pot, was a bit of a forbidden fruit for her, and she didn’t want to reek of that when she came home.

"Why don’t you go on and unload Stan. And talk to your friend. Don't worry about me..." she grinned, half-stoned by pot.

"Nah, that’s OK. I have work to do.... SOMEONE has to unload all this shit," he said, starting to look darkly at Matt.

Matt leapt up and started to unload things while Casey wandered out back. "If anyone wants some grass I got it here," she giggled. She shuffled off, blowing Stan a kiss as she headed out back.

"Yikes," Ray mumbled to Stanley, who was standing there angrily shoving his hands into his pockets. "Is it me or do i smell grass?"

He looked at her and rolled his eyes. A bit moodily and sarcastically, he said,

"Soooo, she loves me, can’t you tell?"

"I can tell," she mumbled. "Just about as much as Gene frigging does."

"Ray, I really have to set up… but you can talk to me like I said before…"

"Do you need help setting up? I know about guitars and amps... and Gene said your guitar was acting up…"

Teenagers are starting to buy tickets, milling about the gym. She followed him as he moved up and grabbed his guitar case. She helped him carry the other cases up the stairs, trying not to trip on the cords crossing the floor. They reached his side of the stage, and she started to help with the microphone set up.

"I’d love help, Ray, thanks." he said, with a small grateful smile. "I have a feeling this is going to be a disaster."

"I'll do my best to help give you moral support," she said, plugging in the microphones and setting them into their stands. They begin to trundle various stuff back and forth. Matt and Casey were giggling all over the place, flirting in plain sight of Stan and Ray.

As they get ready, she tells Stan about what happened with Gene. She saw him open up his guitar case and shake his head. She took it from him, looking it over carefully. He seemed very surprised when she pointed out the strings and tuning he needed to redo, as well as the problems in the distortion settings as she plugged it in and turned the amp on. As they fiddled with his guitar, she shared with him not all the intimate details, but some of the things bothering her.

"So, you think he’s got another woman," he said, watching her.

"Yeah," she mumbled.

"If it helps any, the few times I’ve talked to him, he was home.... By himself."

"Well I thought I overhead one of the teachers saying he had brought someone home one night..." she blushed, slinging the guitar over her shoulder. "I overhead them saying something about him hanging with a blonde at a club... the Blue Thunder in the village."

Stanley helped her to rig up the amps like a pro, while Matt stumbled through his setup. The other guys get most of their stuff ready, after finishing the drum kit assembly. Matt tuned up his guitar, with Casey helping him. The other guys were futzing with the drums and the sound levels on the borrowed amps.

Experimentally she played a few chords from A Hard Day’s Night.

"Well, if he did, maybe it was just sex...I mean, not like that makes it RIGHT, but...." he said. Ray took off his guitar and handed it back to him, feeling fresh tears well up.

"Shit I'm sorry Stan... I just..." she stammered. Stan looked at her, shifting from foot to foot, unsure of what to do. He set his guitar into a stand and sighed.

"Well, if it doesn’t work out with Gene, I’d love to.... Hell... never mind," he said, turning his back to her and preparing to slide an amp to its proper place.

"What?" she asked slowly, grabbing his shoulder. Matt and his friends quickly filed out to join Casey. She soon smelled the scent of pot drifting in, and sat down on the nearest amplifier by Stanley.

"It’s nothing. I ought to just keep quiet," he said, back to her still, shoulders slumping.

"I think you could do better then that flake," she said slowly as she put her hands on his shoulders and started to rub the tension out of them. "And you're a handsome young man who's being taken for a ride."

He flinched a bit as she touched him, mumbling, "Well, I’m not exactly considered a hot find, so if there’s nobody for awhile, I’ll live."

"Bullshit," she said, moving around before him. She put a hand to his cheek, slowly fingering it. Stanley did nothing, flushing hot as he closed his eyes. Tipping his chin to look at her, she stroked his cheek up to his ear, and noticed the telltale signs of a slight deformity. It did not phase her, but she suddenly guessed the source of his agony and pain.

"You see it, right," he mumbled.

"I see a handsome young man," she said clearly, kissing his deformed ear softly. "You're handsome to ME. Who cares what anyone ELSE thinks? There’s a lot to work with here. So don’t' sell yourself short, Stanley Eisen."

"Ray…" he choked. "I…"

Drawing back shyly she took his hand and squeezed it, "Now go out there and play like you can, cause I'll be cheering for you."

"Thanks.... I think," he said, very red from her attention. He discreetly shifted his pants a bit, praying like hell for his body to not betray him.

"You'll do fine," she said, as he stood up. She drew him into a hug, wrapping her arms around him and gently kissing his cheek. Softly she pressed a kiss to his lips and whispered, "That’s for luck."

"Thanks," Stanley said, looking at her a moment as he kept one arm around her waist. "I think… we have to get ready now…"

"You do that. And I’ll be out there," she said, drawing shyly away. Her own desire raging, she quickly left the stage, seeing him glance and wave at her, his face flaming red with the kiss she’d given him.

When Ray stood out in the crowd, she saw Tree file in and take up station behind their instruments. They seemed very colorful and garishly out of place amongst the conservatively dressed teens and chaperones. Sixties rock and Woodstock, evident from the peace sign around Matt’s neck as he cued up his bass, clashed with conventional public. Ray giggled as she remembered just how controversial Elvis was in the fifties. She still kept up her collection of the King’s records in her crates, having inherited some of them from her older cousin. It was Elvis and Janice Joplin who had inspired her to even think about music. And when she’d heard about Jefferson Airplane with a female lead singer, she’d jumped at the chance. Yet that was college. Here she had to ‘behave.’

A young chaperone came up to the microphone and tapped it. Still Stanley and the others leaned over their amps, turning them on to tune their instrument last minute. Stanley stood to his side of the stage, his eyes widening even more as he saw Gene entering the gym.

"Stan, let's go man," one of his bandmates urges him. "We're on!"

Not noticing Gene, Ray stood towards the front of the stage with the assembled teens snapping to attention as the announcer cleared his throat. With a critical eye Ray watched them moving into position. Stan jerked his head to attention and ran to the front of the stage.

"Ladies and gents, this is TREE," the announcer said reading off of a card. Ray clapped heartily, and a few others half-heartedly joined in.

"Helllooo.... New YORK!" Stanley said, gauging the reaction of the crowd, which is nothing.

"HELLO!" Ray shouted back, urging the young people around her to answer.

"We are TREE, and we’re here to help you rock the HOUSE and FORGET all that’s bugging you!" he howled, using a stage voice. Ray had to admit his sudden depth and resonance reminded her a bit of a gospel singer’s sermon. She saw Matt whispering to him quickly as the announcer moved offstage as if he was ready to be hit by lighting.

"And for allllllll the beautiful ladies out there...please save a dance for me," he said, punctuated by a sexy chord on his guitar. Ray whistled at him.

Unnoticed by Ray and standing a bit off to the side by the entrance Gene moved through the crowd to stand discreetly off amidst a clot of chaperones. As he watched Stanley’s patter, he shook his head.

"One two three hit it!" Matt shouted, strumming on his bass. A wall of blaring sound assaulted her, and Ray backed up. Stanley joined in, his nervous face fusing into a mask of concentration as he started up his line, and the other musicians followed suit. Together they glared and ground their raw sound into something coherent and somewhat musical. Considering the sad state of their battered instruments it was a miracle they were making anything sounding good at all.

Ray began to sway to the music. When Stanley opened his mouth to sing, she was floored by the set of pipes the youth had on him. His voice carried clearly through the gym, not necessarily helped by the microphone. He had the projection of an opera singer, she mused as she snapped her fingers and swaggered to the beat. Some of the teenagers started to dance, while others stood around, getting punch and cookies. Stan began to back pedal a bit, bending his knees in classic rock star mode. Gene continued to watch him, and Ray out of the corner of his eye.

"I remember the time I was lonely without her…" Stanley sang into the microphone as Matt and the others harmonized. His lips set into a firm pout as he moved back and then continued his song. The words were simple yet the harmony was a good mix and had an excellent dance beat. Ray began to twist to the song, clapping and making such a stir that some of the teens around her began to clasp hands and get into the groove with her. She had a circle of them milling back and forth. One shy young man moved up and asked her to dance, and she caught his hand, whirling back and forth wildly.

The band had a lot of energy, but wasn’t quite in synch. However Stan’s vocals were solid, as are his rhythm chords. People started to clap a bit as more teens danced. They seem intrigued by the older woman dancing in their midst and start to copy her steps. She whirled her young partner about, mixing a swing step with a modern twist and shake. His eyes flew open in bewilderment as he struggled to keep up.

"Man she’s cool!" some of the teens laughed, whirling and gyrating to the music. All those dance lessons Ray had taken in college paid off, for they had included a session in dancing to fifties rock. Also watching American Bandstand helped too, in shaping her movements to the modern beat. So caught up was she in showing her stuff to the youths around her that she failed to notice Gene Klein slowly making his way through the throng. His eyes trained on her like a hunter staking his prey. He elbowed his way through the dancing teens to suddenly tap her on the shoulder.

She started, and her young partner moved aside as a voice said, "Mind if I cut in, kid?"

"S-sure…" he stammered glancing over Ray’s shoulder and seeing the look in Gene’s eyes that clearly said to back off. He took several steps back and left a bewildered Ray who whirled around to see who had stopped her dance.

"I suppose a dance is out of the question," he said, tapping her arm. She whirled about to see Gene standing there, looking a bit still amongst the moving teens around him. He looked rather uncomfortable, a downcast look in his eyes resembling that of a hurt dog. It was enough to slowly melt the ice around her heart. After all this he had still come, and deliberately looked for her. Maybe there was hope.

"I suppose not," she smiled. "If you can keep up with me..."

"Um…" Gene mumbled, taking her hand as she pulled him into the dancing group. He moved stiffly like a robot ungreased, mechanically struggling to copy her moves. Uncoordinated he shuffled from foot to foot and ray could tell that dancing was the last thing he wanted to do at this moment.

She takes Gene's hands and begins to lead him in a dance step, "Like this. One two three. Easy..."

He looked around uncomfortably, and Ray knew he was doing it for HER benefit.

"Ah, screw it," he mumbles, as he let her lead him.

"Here, put your arm on my back," she said. "And then I’ll put my hand HERE…"

Gene curled his arm around her waist, and Ray put her hand on the middle of his back. Even though he still towered over her he looked at her helplessly. For once he was totally out of his element. Still he bravely attempted to put his feet where she indicated, feet shuffling clumsily as hers moved with the simplicity of an ocean wave. His toe inexplicably trod on hers, and she winced.

"Damn.... That wasn’t supposed to happen," he chuckled. She smiled and continued patiently to lead him, hoping that he wouldn’t’ continue to torture her with his large booted feet.

The song clattered to a halt, leaving them standing there, in each other’s arms. Stanley shouted out over the crowd, "All right! Let’s get smokin with ANOTHER SONG. Cause where there is smoke there is FIRE, and when there’s fire we call out the FIREHOUSE!"

"She’ll adore you, and she’ll floor you, with her wisdom and her vision. And the quicker you get sicker, she removes your medication…"

"Weird, but not bad," Gene mumbled. "Can you figure out a step to this?

"Sure," she said. "Watch this, sway back and forth. You think you can manage that…"

Gene whispered in her ear, "I’m sorry.... OK...there, I said it."

Ray felt the last ice melting from her heart. It suddenly dawned on her how much crow he was eating coming here and admitting he was in the wrong. All she could do in that moment was to fling her arms around his neck and kiss his ear, pressing her body close to his.

"Apology accepted, Mr. Klein," she whispered. Gene smiled and suddenly hugged her tightly to himself. She raised her lips for a kiss, and he bent down to meet her mouth with his. His soft moan of delight as she moved her hands down his back to pinch his rear inspired her that the storm had passed, for now.

"Kids not bad." Gene whispered to her, "Needs some work on his speaking skills, but his songs aren’t bad. Not at all."

She rubbed her hands down Gene's back to his butt, then playfully pulled them away to his back again. Smiling she drew back as he kept his hands on her hips and rested her hands behind his head as she said, "Not at all... and he's got a girl. But she's being a real flake... She's strung out on freaking grass..."

Gene eyed him a minute, nodding a bit when Stan looked over. Ray's stomach rumbled and she winced again as Gene accidentally steps on her toe again. She couldn’t help but see a sad look on his young face when he saw them dancing together. For a moment she wondered what could have been.

"You had enough of this yet?" he grinned.

"I think," she whispered limping a bit. "But thanks for the dance. That was sweet of you."

"I figured I sort of owed you something.... You running out like that. You must be pretty pissed."

"I am," she whispered. "Or was..."

"Let’s sit the rest of this out before I cripple you," he laughed, taking her hand and leading her over to a row of chairs lined up against the wall for the ‘wallflowers’, and sat down, fingering her toe through her boot. They heard a siren from the stage as Firehouse wound to a close. Gene took her hand and gave it a squeeze as he leaned close and pulled her to him for another kiss.