back easily. Stop it, he told
himself.

She objected to his mailing list screens. "Cluttered," she said. She
was right. He explained that he had jammed everything in as a
beginning, so that they could see what they were working with. She was
clear about what she wanted. Forty-five minutes later, they were back
outside.

"Beautiful day," he said. She smiled enigmatically and turned her
ignition key.

"Damn," she said.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing happening." She turned the key several more times.

"Pop the hood," Oliver said. The hood sprang open just as the words
left his mouth. He felt for the second latch and leaned his head over
the engine. "Try it again." He could hear the solenoid clicking. "How
about the lights?" The lights were fine, plenty of juice. "Don't know,"
he said. "Could be the starter. I don't think a jump will do it."

Jacky called triple A. An older man went through the same procedure and
then hoisted the truck behind his wrecker.

"Ride home?" Oliver asked.

"If you don't mind," Jacky said. "South Portland."

"Right in my direction," Oliver said. He drove into the city and
pointed out his house as they approached the bridge. "Back soon,
Verdi," he called out the window.

"Verdi?"

"My cat." They crossed the bridge, and Jacky directed him to a quiet
street in a residential neighborhood. He stopped in her driveway
intending to back out and return the way they had come.

"You look hungry," she said.

"I am." He was surprised.

"I have something for you. Come in." She slid out and walked to the
front door without waiting for an answer. He followed her into a house
which was sunnier and more spacious than it appeared from the front. A
long living room opened to a sun porch at the back. "I have a double
lot," she said, showing him the porch. Two large willow trees framed
the end of the yard. "High bush blueberries," she said, waving at a
stand of bushes that ran along one side. "Salad garden over there.
Flowers. Fun."

"Nice," he said.

"I had a craving for rare steak last night. I could only eat half of
it, though. It's in the refrigerator." She led him to the kitchen.
"There's mayo, mustard, horseradish--if you're feeling wild. Bread's in
there." She turned. "Oh, there's ale in the bottom of the refrigerator.
I'll have a glass." She left the room.

"Do you want a sandwich?" he called after her.

"No, thanks, I'll just nibble," she said. A door closed.

Oliver opted for horsera