He came up from a deep hole and opened his eyes. He closed them and opened them again more slowly. Rhiannon was looking into his face. Far above her, a cop was looking down. Joe remembered the young guys. He lifted his head. "It's O.K., Joe, they're gone." He put his head back down for a moment and then rolled to his side. He stood up with help from Rhiannon. He was bruised and bleeding from a scrape on his cheek, but nothing seemed broken. He let out a breath. "What happened?" "I called 911 on my cell phone." "I was just going by," the cop said. "You lucky." "They ran when they saw the cruiser," Rhiannon said. "My partner too fat to catch them," Officer Watanabe said. "You going to be all right?" "I think so," Joe said, touching the back of his head. He looked at Rhiannon. "Are you O.K.?" "Yes," she said. "Did they take anything?" "No." "You want to come down to headquarters and try identify them?" "Kids," Joe said. "I guess not. I should have stayed out of this end of the park." "Up to you," Officer Wanatabe said. He wrote down their addresses. "Thanks," Joe said. "That's what we're here for. We'll hang around, ask a few questions." Joe and Rhiannon crossed over to the shopping center. He congratulated her on having a cell phone. "I should have had pepper spray," she said angrily. "I'm getting some today." "I'm going home," Joe said. " You sure you don't want your face looked at? They kicked you after that one guy hit you with something." "The little one?" "He wasn't so little." "The skinny one?" "Yeah," Rhiannon said. "They're the ones you got to watch," Joe said. "I'll go home and clean up, take a couple of aspirin, take it easy." "I know!" Rhiannon said. "I'll make you dinner." Joe couldn't talk her out of it. At five o'clock, she was standing at his door holding a grocery bag. She was wearing square cut black cotton pants and a maroon sweatshirt pushed up on her forearms. Her hair was brushed back. Joe was shocked again at how untouched and beautiful she was. He smelled freshly baked bread. "Smells good." "I didn't know how hungry you'd be. I made a quiche. You can warm it up tomorrow if you don't want it." "Are you kidding?" He led her into the apartment, and she took possession of the kitchen area. "I've got something for you," Joe said. He handed her a book on Vermeer. "Oooh," she said. "My contribution to your education." "Cool. Thanks." Within minutes a meal appeared on the table. "How do you cook without pans, Joe?" "A pot and a wok--what more do you need?" "Really, Joe." She sniffed his olive oil. "I knew I should have brought some," she said. He uncorked a bottle of Chianti and gave her the house glass. "I'll use the mug. Happy days." "Happy days, Joe." They began on the quiche. Joe put down his fork after the first bite. "This is damned good!" Rhiannon nodded calmly. "I love this," she said, reaching for Maxie's box. She opened it.