Together always by Dallas Schulze

sitting very still, her hands clasped together in her lap. Her face was composed, her eyes on the fire. The flickering light caught on the shiny track of a solitary tear that slid slowly down her cheek.
    *'I think I'll go to bed now. It's been a long day." She didn't look at him as she stood up. Trace watched her leave the room, feeling the weight of her pain as if it were his own.
    Too much lay between them. He wondered if she still thought of that hot summer day when everything had changed. Or had she put it out of her mind? He wanted to go to her, put his arms around her and tell her that everything was going to be all right—that he'd make it right. Only he couldn't make it right this time. He couldn't take her and run away from this hurt the way he had when they were children. This was a hurt they both carried inside. He hs-tened to Lily climb the stairs, knowing she was going to cry herself to sleep, helpless to comfort her.
    There was nothing he could do or say that was going to change the fact that Mike was gone. He wasn't going to come striding into the room, demanding to know what Trace was doing standing around lollygagging. He'd taken two children off the streets and treated them as if they were his own. He'd provided them with more than shelter, he'd given them a real home, the first either of them had known. He'd laughed, scolded, disciplined when necessary and kept them both safe and secure.
    Because of Mike, Trace had ended up a cop instead of a criminal. Lily had been able to go to college and they'd both

    had the security of a home, someone to love them and care about what they did with their hves. In a few moments of violence, it was all gone. Shattered.
    Trace's head dropped to his arm again. The heat of the fire dried the slow painful tears before they had a chance to fall, but nothing could ease the ache in his chest.

    Chapter Seven
    The clouds drifted away some time during the night, leaving the day to dawn with the promise of blue skies and warm weather. The beaches would be crowded with tourists and natives eager to take advantage of the sunshine. It promised to be the kind of day that made visitors swear they'd never go home and made Angelenos feel very smug.
    Trace barely noticed the weather, other than to note that it wasn't raining. As soon as he woke, he was aware of the change in his hfe. Mike was gone and Lily was back. The two balanced uneasily in his emotions. Grief for Mike mixed with the joy of having Lily in his life again, if only for a little while.
    He dressed in jeans and a chambray shirt, rolling the sleeves up to bare his forearms. The scent of coffee reached him as he slipped on running shoes. He inhaled deeply, feeling a faint twinge of anticipation for the first time in days.
    Lily was downstairs, making coffee. His sorrow over Mike was strong but his life couldn't be all wrong when Lily was in it. He'd missed her. More than he'd admitted to himself. He'd missed her for a long time now.
    He rarely allowed himself to think of that hot summer afternoon when she'd come to him and told him she loved him. He knew it was only a girl's infatuation. He'd known

    it at the time, which was why he'd sent her away and tried to put it out of his mind. But it crept up on him sometimes, catching him unawares, making him remember how soft her mouth had been, how right she'd felt in his arms.
    For the first time, he deliberately conjured up that day, trying to picture every detail just as it had been the summer Lily turned eighteen. One of the hottest sunruners on record.
    Trace poked tentatively at the contents of the air conditioner. Wires and parts stared back at him enigmatically. There had to be a reason why it wasn't working but he couldn't see what it was. Not that that was surprising. He'd never claimed to be a mechanical genius.
    He leaned back in his chair, tilting it up on two legs as he reached for a beer. The icy liquid flowed down his throat, giving a temporary illusion of comfort.