Tracy Trouble

Angel Tracy

So there it is, girl. I've said it all now. And here we are, babe, what do you say?
We've Got Tonight, why don't we stay?
Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton.

My God. Tracy's going to be a star someday...

Tracy started out fun and affectionate while on the freeway, but suddenly wanted to spew her woes when I headed into the foothills.

Out lookout spot in the mountains lay twenty-minute ahead, twenty frustrating minutes of Whiny Tracy. I tried to ignore most of it, but when she told me, "My ex-boyfriend didn't support my dream," I took the bait.

"Uhh, Tracy? What is your dream?"

She replied, "I'm going to be an opera singer."

An opera singer. Tracy is a literal drama queen.

I had some experience dating theatrical women and models. I didn't necessarily like them, but on the plus side, they had been easy. Despite her present mood, I expected that Tracy would sensually play her part when the time came.

Meanwhile, she intrigued me. I had never scored an opera singer before, though she would not be my last one.
I asked Tracy to sing, as it seemed the right thing to do. Though not expecting much, I will never forget the first note she sang.

She's an angel.

The soprano note started out soft, but with amazing projection. She slowly increased the volume and vibrato over ten seconds, until it filled every bit of the Riviera's interior and overwhelmed the loud exhaust. During the decrescendo, her voice continued to flood my pleasure center while I melted with joy.

I looked over at her in shock. The cute and silly girl had transformed into a beautiful, soulful woman, as Tracy's face shaped the magical sounds. Her hands aided the image, dancing and swimming to hypnotizing patterns in front of her.

Even Tracy's sweet brown eyes differed. She slowly closed her lids, turned towards me, then half opened them as she completed her phrase. A tiny tear rolled down her cheek, inspiring one of my own. I no longer regretted leaving Alice's bed. She simply didn't exist at that moment, and Tracy had become my whole world.

I couldn't think of anything appropriate to say when she finished, so I just took her hand and drove in silence. After a minute I blurted out, "Tracy, that was amazing."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows, urging more out of me. What else could I say?

I confessed, "I feel so dumb, singing that song to you last week, without realizing how talented you are. Thank you for not laughing or walking out on me."

Tracy studied me. "No, Ray. I really did love it. You were so wonderful, and nobody ever wrote a song for me before. You made me feel special."

I suspected Tracy manipulated me into saying sweet things, but oddly, it didn't bother me the way it did with other women. Many Tracy things were like that.

I kissed her hand. "You are special."

Tracy gave me the same look Alice did when I said things like that, and I wondered if she was going to ask, "Really, Ray? How am I special?"

Always full of surprises, she instead came back with, "Ray? Why did you say that? Did you think I wanted to hear it?"

Tracy asked excellent questions. "Yes, I thought you wanted to hear it. I like making you feel good. It's how I know you're special."