Struck by Lightning. Christa Maurice

since I’m here. I had a question for you.”

      She sighed and raised one eyebrow at him.

      “You know Rebecca down at the gallery on Market?”

      “Who?”

      “The artist with the blue eyes? The one I asked you about at Jack and Kate’s wedding?”

      “No, I don’t. Is that all? Because I have work to do.”

      Dan blanched. No wonder Kevin didn’t want to apologize to her. This woman was downright scary when she was mad. “No, that was it. I just wondered if you knew her. That’s all.”

      “Well, I don’t.” Jessica turned around and walked away from the desk, leaving Dan leaning against it bewildered.

      “Can I help you?” another employee, walking toward the desk, asked.

      “No, I’m not sure anyone can.” Dan sighed and walked out.

      He roasted in his car considering the options. Go to the gym. Go home. Go beat his head against a wall. All of those had about the same appeal. Why hadn’t she shown up at the station? Normally the allure of visiting a firehouse was too much for any woman. But this woman sat down on the push bumper of the engine with an almost audible “so what” all over her face the one time she’d been there. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be able to impress her with his job. Of course, if he didn’t see her he wouldn’t have any opportunities to impress her. He could just amble into the gallery one day, after driving by to make sure she was in there alone, but that seemed too desperate. He should let her come to him.

      And failing that, he needed to arrange to bump into her.

      He started the car. Meechan’s had worked once, maybe it would work again. She’d eaten there before, she would eat there again, right?

      He had to park around the corner from the theater. One of the owners was up on a ladder putting a new message on the marquee. Seemed like there was somebody out fooling with that sign every time he came past. He dodged around the ladder and stopped to look. Just another second-run movie and a reminder of a concert coming up in two weeks. He glanced over at the gallery out of habit. One of those awful high-art things blinked in the window. He stopped and stared at it. She’d actually wired it with blinking Christmas lights. Whatever he saw in Rebecca, it wasn’t her art.

      As he pulled open the door of Meechan’s, he noticed Kevin sitting at a front table, glaring at a burger and fries. Dan grinned. Apparently that comment about growing mold the other day had gotten to him. Dan waltzed over and invited himself to a seat. Lousy company was better than no company at all. “Hey buddy what’s up?”

      Kevin broke off glaring at his burger to glare at Dan. “What do you want?”

      “Just being social.” Dan grinned. “I just saw your–Jessica.”

      “Jesus Christ. Can’t you guys leave me alone about her already?” Kevin burst out. He jumped up and stormed out the door.

      Dan looked at the untouched meal Kevin had left behind. Good thing he stopped himself before he’d called Jessica Kevin’s girlfriend or he might have earned a busted lip instead of a secondhand lunch. He slid the plate across the table. If he was going to pay for it, he thought he might as well eat it. No milk shake. He’d have to ask the waitress for one. He looked around for Billy. If Billy wasn’t in, it wouldn’t be worth the trouble.

      Why did all his friends go completely bananas over women? First Jack nearly quit the department for some schoolteacher, now Kevin was a walking temper tantrum over a wannabe paramedic. Any day now Lew was going to get all dimwitted over some female. At least Mark wouldn’t do anything like that. Mark still had a bad taste in his mouth from the ex and the munchkin.

      “Hi there. You don’t look like my customer, but you’re eating his lunch.” The waitress grinned at him. Sandy. She’d waited on him several times during his fevered stalking of Rebecca.

      “He had to leave. Hey, is Billy here?”

      “Sure.” She gestured over her shoulder at a group in the corner. “He’s kinda taking a break. What do you need?”

      “I was hoping for a milk shake.”

      She nodded. “I think he can break away for that. I’ll get him.” She took a step away from the table. “You know your girl is here, right?”

      Dan looked up. “My girl?”

      “The girl you were looking for.”

      Dan stood up without meaning to. From that vantage point he could see over the heads of the crowd in the corner. Right in the middle sat Rebecca with a pad of paper propped on the table in front of her. He walked around the waitress. As he got closer he saw a few discarded pages on the tabletop. Loose, sloppy sketches that he understood immediately. One was the face of a cherubic baby surrounded by faces that could only be a family. A large family. On the same page a cruel-eyed king in what appeared to be a furred coat glared at the family. On another page coiled a winged dragon.

      “And the czar had to allow them to marry,” Rebecca said, tearing off another page and dropping it on the table with a flourish. This image showed a lovely princess looking shyly at her slippered feet. “But that’s not the end of the story. You remember the dragon’s gold?” She gestured to the image of the dragon. “Well, the Greedy Czar didn’t want to let that go. He convinced the Luck Child to tell him where the island was and traveled there himself.” She began drawing again, her pencil sweeping across the page. “He stood impatiently on the shore waiting for the boatmen, staring at the distant glittering shore. When the boatman arrived he climbed in tapping his foot, eager to get to the beach of gems. Near the middle of the lake his short patience came to an end. He stood up and told the boatman, ‘Here old man, let me do that. You’re going much too slow.’ And with that he took the oar.”

      Several members of her audience gasped and one little boy howled, “He’ll be trapped forever.”

      “Not forever,” Rebecca corrected, tearing off the page she’d been drawing on. A few lines indicated the boat, the mist and the hunched boatman. “Only until someone offers to take his oar.”

      The crowd around her applauded and several of them laid bills on the table before herding their children away. Billy, seated in the booth beside her, clapped. “That was a good one. I like that one. Are you going to tell another one? Please?”

      “Not right now, Billy. All my pencils are dull. Maybe in a little while. I think they need you at the register.” Rebecca scooped up the bills without raising her gaze off the table.

      She looked tired, Dan thought. He slid into the seat across from her. “You’re good at that,” he commented.

      She jerked, startled and then sighed. “Hello there, hero. I keep bumping into you here.”

      Dan picked up the dragon and compared it to the boatman. “These are really nice.”

      “Well, nobody buys these.”

      Was that bitterness in her voice or just exhaustion? “What are you asking for this one?” He held out the dragon.

      “Fifty bucks.”

      “What about this one?” He picked up the princess.

      “Eighty.”

      He reached for his wallet. “I’ve only got thirty on me today. If you hold these for me, I’ll stop by the gallery with the rest later.” He held out the money.

      “Are you serious?”

      “Here, hon, you forgot your lunch.” Sandy set Kevin’s burger in front of him before turning to Rebecca. “Walt says you can have lunch on the house.”

      Rebecca blinked. “He did?”

      “He will when I tell him you’re getting lunch on the house. Parents always tip better when their little ones are entertained. I’ll send Billy over for your milk