Читать книгу Struck by Lightning - Christa Maurice - Страница 7

Chapter 3

That went well. Really, it went well. Dan kicked a rock off the sidewalk in front of him. That woman, Rebecca, was obviously a complete fruit bat who he should damn well know to stay away from and yet what had he done? He’d kissed her. And what had he done after that? He’d asked her to stop by the station. Then he’d turned down the wrong road so she wouldn’t have time to tell him no, causing him to have to walk seven blocks out of the way in the heat to get to his car.

But now he knew where she worked and what her name was.

Lew’s question still ran through his mind. Why? What was it about this one? Why hadn’t he just walked out when she ducked his dinner invitation? Why had he given in to the overwhelming urge to kiss her? And why had he laid all those corny lines on her? Maybe you could teach me? Why not just invite himself up to her place to see her etchings? Something about those eyes, that voice. No way was he not going to try again.

Now, he had to think of the next move. Would he be able to wait for her to stop at the station? Would she stop at the station? Should he try dropping in at the gallery in a couple of days?

Women never made it this difficult for him, but he did love a challenge.

* * * *

Rebecca stood at the corner of Washington and Worchester with her hand on the post office box, staring down the street at the fire station. From this vantage point she could only see half the open bay door and part of the paramedic truck. The truck was in, but she had no idea if the hero was. Just about every day for the last week, she’d found a reason to wander up to the letter box. She’d sent letters to friends she hadn’t seen for years and snail mail to people she usually emailed. Stooping to sending a card to her high school art teacher was just pathetic and she’d done it anyway. Miss Schuler would want to know she was successful.

She had not seen the hero.

By her calculations, he should have caved to her allure at least four days ago. No male resisted her for more than a week. Max cracked inside three days way back when they were in Orientation together. The hero seemed to be made of sterner stuff.

Which made him very annoying. By this time she should have had time to reel him in and play him out again.

She turned and walked back to her apartment. Bess had suddenly taken an interest in working in the gallery. In the original deal, she had taken three days a week, while Bess, Edie and Max split the other three days. Over the summer, Rebecca had taken on more and more days as the others went on vacation or just lost interest. She hadn’t minded because for the moment the gallery was the only thing going on in her life. Now Bess was taking an interest again. She kept showing up in the middle of the day on days Rebecca was supposed to be on her own and driving her out.

For a week now there’d been no place to go and nothing to do.

Except for today. Today she’d had a valid reason to go to the mailbox before pick up. Today was the due date of her first loan payment. Yesterday, she’d listened as her father left an unsubtle message on her machine reminding her of the due date and the terms of the agreement. She’d spent the night scraping together both this payment and the next and carefully wording an acid letter telling them how well she was doing and enclosing a clipping from the paper. Sending them both payments now meant living on ramen for a few days, but it would be worth it. This particular deal with her parents had strained their relationship in ways that Rebecca hadn’t imagined.

The gallery strained every relationship she had. Turning away from the fire station, she started back toward her apartment. She had no desire to work on new pieces, and no need to since the gallery was already overstocked and out of storage. She also didn’t feel like sitting around waiting until time to go to the gallery in the morning.

Last week she’d promised Billy she would stop in and draw stories again. Maybe she should gamble some of her dwindling cash supply on the hope of getting enough tips to cover lunch. At least it would get her out and it would make Billy happy. Even if she didn’t cover her lunch, making Billy happy would be a good payment.

* * * *

Dan pushed through the doors of the bookstore. He’d confidently told Lew last Thursday that he’d found her and she’d be showing up at the station any day. Well, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday had passed, but any day hadn’t arrived. He’d even meandered nonchalantly over to the gallery yesterday, but the crabby woman had been there so he hadn’t bothered to go inside. He’d tried to call Bobbie for advice on women and she’d told him brusquely that she didn’t know any before hanging up on him. Jack’s advice had been to find out where she lived and move in. Dan hadn’t tried Kevin because he valued his head being attached to his neck. Mark was too annoyed by Dan detouring down Market every time they came back to the station to be helpful. If it didn’t have an engine, Lew didn’t understand it, so asking him was useless. Dan had entertained asking Lew’s sister, but dismissed the idea out of hand. She was all of sixteen, not a fount of feminine knowledge yet. Asking an old girlfriend just seemed wrong too. If he called Daisy, she’d have a honey-do list for him and he wasn’t her honey. That left him Jack’s sister and Jessica. Which left him Jessica. He could only hope that her anger at Kevin wouldn’t spill over onto him.

He spotted her at the information desk scowling at a sheaf of papers. The scowl looked like it had been carved on her face. She’d also chopped off her hair. If Kevin would just apologize already, everybody’s life would be easier. Maybe she wouldn’t be a good source, considering her and Kevin’s track record.

He leaned on the counter, smiling. “Hi Jessica. How did the written exam go?”

She looked up and somehow, the scowl deepened. “What do you want?”

“Just to say hi. I haven’t seen you since the wedding and you just had the written yesterday. I wondered if you’d gotten your score from HQ yet.”

“No,” she growled.

“When do you find out?”

“Later today.”

Small talk was not thawing her out at all. So much for plan A. “Well, 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 shake order.” Sandy patted the table between them and left.

Dan slid the money across the table. “So can you hold those drawings for me?”

“You can take them now.”

“But I still owe you most of the value.”

“Those prices are way too high. I was just kidding around.”

“I’m not.” Dan shoved the money a little closer to her. She didn’t look like the wet bohemian he’d first met or the distant beauty in the gallery last week. Today she had her wild black hair pinned up off her neck and she wore a pretty yellow sundress. He resisted the impulse to look under the table and see if she had shoes on. She probably didn’t. He hadn’t seen her wear shoes yet. She also seemed to be suffering a shock response. Her breathing was shallow and her face had gone pale. It was hard to tell from across the table, but he thought her eyes might be dilated.

“I can’t ask a hundred and thirty dollars for two quick pencil sketches,” she whispered.

“Yes, you can and it’s worth it.” A woman Dan didn’t know dropped into the seat beside Rebecca. “Whatever she asked it’s no doubt worth it. She’s the best artist in the state.”

“Monica!” Rebecca protested.

Monica leaned across the table. “She’s also a fantastic teacher. I’ve been taking lessons from her for years and I’m learning new things all the time. I’m like a thousand times better than I was before. Oh, these are beautiful. Are these the ones he wants to buy?” She picked up the boatman and the family with the czar. “I missed a session of storytelling, didn’t I? You really should let people know when you’re going to do this. I’d come out to watch. A lot of people would.”

Billy came over to the table. “Sandy says you want a milk shake. What kind of milk shake do you want? Do you want a milk and Pepsi milk shake?”

“That’s fine.” Dan wished Billy and Monica would go away. Rebecca looked like she wanted to flee the scene, but she was trapped. What could be making her react like this? Him? Monica? Billy? The money? Low blood sugar?

“Are you gonna draw another story soon, Rebecca? I’d really like that. I like it when you tell stories.” Billy grinned. “Are you gonna have a milk shake too?”

Sandy crowded in behind Billy. “Billy, honey, you go make the nice man’s milk shake and you know Rebecca will want a chocolate one.” She grabbed his shoulders and shifted him away from the table, still talking.

“Listen, Rebecca. I came to tell you that I need to reschedule my lesson this week. I left a message with Bess, but she didn’t write it down so when I saw you in here I thought I’d stop and tell you in person. You have my number, right? You can give me a call and we’ll set up another time. I wish I’d known you were here today. I’d have come here for lunch instead of going through a drive-thru. Give me a call so we can reschedule.” Monica stood up. “She really is a great teacher.”

Dan waited for the dust to settle before he tried to speak. “So, you teach drawing too?” The color had returned to her face at least. It could still be low blood sugar, or him.

“I can’t let you spend a hundred and thirty dollars on two quick pencil sketches.” She put away her pad and pencils. “Just take them both for thirty.”

“That’s a pretty serious drop in price. How about I take them both for sixty?”

She frowned at him, her lush lips crinkling to match the determined crease between her eyes. It struck him as really cute. “This is not how bargaining works. You’re supposed to drive the price down, not up.”

He shrugged. “Well, if you won’t take my offer at least let me buy you lunch.”

“Walt is giving me lunch on the house,” she reminded him.

“Okay, what about dinner?”

She smirked. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She stood up. “When Sandy comes back tell her I’d like the tuna salad. I’m going to wash the graphite off my hands.”

“If you sneak out the back, I still know where you work.”

“If I sneak out the back, the fire alarm will go off.”

“Well, isn’t it convenient that I’m already here.” He grinned.

She shook her head and walked away from the table.

Dan picked up the bargain-basement pencil sketches he’d just purchased. They were quickly done, with a few lines suggesting everything. But somehow they made more sense to him than that blinking object in the window of the gallery across the street. The question now was, which one was really her?

* * * *

Rebecca studied herself in the bathroom mirror. She was in serious danger of losing the advantage here. Things had gone swimmingly at first. She’d walked in with her sketch pad sticking out of her bag and Billy started jumping up and down. In addition to the excellent ego stroking, his enthusiasm gave her better advertising than a neon sign. She’d had two moms on cellphones before she got out her pencils. At Billy’s behest, she’d stalled for about twenty minutes while he filled milk shake orders for the whole group. It had provided her with an excellent opportunity to do a nice detailed sketch of the baby hero, the family and the villain. It also allowed two more adults with four children between them to arrive and order. During the storytelling, her entire audience had been very polite and she hadn’t forgotten anything important. Billy was happy and the tips had looked good when she stuffed them in her pocket without counting. Especially now that she was getting a free lunch.

And dinner.

Rebecca frowned more deeply. That was about when everything had blown apart. She couldn’t be completely certain how long the hero had been watching her, but she suspected he’d heard some of the story. The fact that he’d been watching at all had been disorienting enough without his offer to buy two of the sketches and the bizarre entrance of an overcaffeinated Monica Raines. She’d been far too rattled to slip out of his offer of dinner.

The visual didn’t help either. Every hair on her head was hell-bent on freedom in any direction possible. The smudged graphite on her cheek and the yellow sundress weren’t the image she was trying to impress him with either.

No changing what she had to work with. She pulled her hair out of the hasty bun she’d twisted it up in and braided it because it was too hot to leave it loose. Then she washed her face. At dinner she’d have to out-artsy herself just to balance this appearance.

Picking up her bag, she left the bathroom. It was just another play in the game. She’d let him out, now she had to reel him in. As she walked down the hall, she watched him staring at the tin ceiling. He probably didn’t know what it was and if he did, thought it was a stupid throwback, not something that had been painstakingly restored. He wore a burgundy polo shirt, and the knee sticking out from under the table, ready to knock into some unsuspecting waitress was clad in tan chinos. The mirrored wraparound sunglasses were probably in his truck. He had to drive a truck. that type always did. He was just making it easier to take him down.

He smiled at her when she sat down. “That’s a great ceiling. Do you know if it’s original?”

“O–? Yes, it is. Walt’s dad owned the place before he did and he had it covered with a suspended ceiling, but Walt remodeled about eight years ago and had it restored.” He kept not being what she thought he was. Why did he keep doing that? It made her doubt what she was doing.

“You sound like you worked on it.”

Rebecca shook her head. “My friend’s dad did a lot of the work and Max worked with him.”

“Where were you when all this as going on?”

“In high school about eighty miles from here.”

Sandy appeared at the side of the table with a tray. “Okay, tuna salad, extra pickle. Blackberry pie, a la mode.”

Rebecca looked across the table. The hero’s burger was missing. Had he eaten it, or given up on it? And for that matter, why were they talking about her?

“Did Billy bring your milk shakes? He didn’t, did he? I’ll get him. He’s so absentminded sometimes.” Sandy turned away and started dodging through tables calling for Billy.

“What about you?” she asked to forestall any questions from him. “Are you local or a transplant?”

“Local. My folks live in Greenburg.”

Rebecca picked up her sandwich, losing half the tuna because her hands were shaking. Must be starved for my hands to be shaking like this. Her stomach was fluttering too. Just hunger, she insisted. Hunger.