Free Once Upon a Day by Lisa Tucker

of handsome men in those volumes,” she said. “I counted one time and I found fifty-six.”
    He couldn’t think of what to say to this, so he didn’t say anything. After a few moments, she apologized for her bad manners. She sounded sincerely confused and more than a little embarrassed. “I honestly can’t imagine why I said something so forward and impolite.”
    “Don’t worry about it.”
    “But there’s no excuse for making someone else uncomfortable. Especially after everything you’ve done for me.”
    “You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said, but his voice was still hoarse and strained. He wasn’t convincing even to himself.
    “Thank you. However, I know I had no right to make such a personal comment.”
    Now he was starting to feel bad. “It was a nice thing to say,” he told her, because, after all, it was. He forced a smile. “I’ve certainly never heard anyone say those words to me before.”
    “Nor have I.”
    He thought she was saying that no one had ever complimented her before. Which bugged him because he knew it was probably true. Wherever the hell she lived—and Stephen was thinking it had to be someplace weird: maybe even a religious cult or a commune founded by her father, who was most likely a nut job—they obviously had a problem with women wearing makeup or letting their hair down or even buying clothes that weren’t fifty years out of style. This morning while he was watching Dorothea stare at herself in the mirror, Stephen could tell she had no idea how attractive she was. Even at the time, he’d felt a little bad about that, a little sorry for her.
    It took him a minute, but finally he said, “You’re very pretty.”
    Her embarrassment was so obvious—she turned bright red and hunched down into the passenger seat like she was trying to disappear—that he instantly knew he’d misinterpreted her. When she’d said, “Nor have I,” she’d meant it the same way she meant most things: literally. She meant she hadn’t heard anyone tell a man how handsome he was. She was still upset with herself for her “forward” comment.
    Unfortunately, now he had two things to feel bad about: that he’d thought a woman other than Ellen was pretty (which was more difficult to deny, now that he’d said it aloud), and that he’d made Dorothea feel bad by telling her so.
    He had no idea how to deal with any of this, so he decided to turn on the radio. The first station had a talk show about sex. He quickly switched to the classic rock station.
    They listened without speaking for the remaining ten minutes of the drive. He was just turning into the hospital parking lot when she shouted, “I know that song. I was just thinking about it this morning!”
    It was true. They were playing “Daniel,” an Elton John song she’d been singing when he woke up.
    “Is this like ‘theory’?” he said, relieved to be back on a topic from yesterday morning, before everything had gotten so complicated. “Except instead of the word it’s the song of the day?”
    “I don’t know.” Her tone was surprisingly serious. “Because the song is about a brother. I thought it was on my mind when I woke up because I was very worried about Jimmy. But now it’s possible that it does mean more.”
    “Not sure I follow.”
    “Perhaps it’s another example of the charming coincidence.”
    The way she said the last three words made them sound as familiar as the National Weather Service or the Holy Grail. He thought it was probably another of her father’s ideas, but it turned out he was wrong.
    “Father doesn’t believe in the charming coincidence,” Dorothea said sadly. Stephen was putting the Checker in park, taking out the key. “He thinks I only do because I’m a natural optimist, but I know there’s more to it than that. For example, yesterday when I got off the bus, I walked to your taxicab first. I was attracted by the black-and-white squares along the roof and the bright green paint,