No sooner had she set her purse and chai on the table when she felt the the temperature of the room rise. There he was, just as he had always looked in her visions. Actually, he was even handsomer in person. Her heart began to pound. Suppose he doesn't come over this way? Her visions had occasionally been wrong, but mostly because she had revealed them at the wrong time or to the wrong people. Her palms were soaking wet. Please, please let me be right. Please come this way.

He ordered coffee and then looked around. There were several unoccupied tables, but he only saw the table where the pretty blonde girl sat. He walked over and looked at the empty chair across from her. Rosemary smiled and nodded at the seat. When he sat, placing his briefcase on the floor beside him, she said, "I've been waiting for you." He looked slightly startled, and then something almost like recognition crossed his face. "I think I've been waiting for you, too." He hummed a few bars of her favorite Disney song "Once Upon a Dream," from Sleeping Beauty.

"I'm Rosemary Cassandra O'Brien. I have "the sight," and I've seen this moment since I was a child. I'm sure that's hard for you to understand..."

"Actually, it's not. I'm Irish, too. My mother's father's sister, Aunt Siobhan, had it. But it passes through the mothers, and my mother didn't have anyone on her mother's side with it, so she didn't have it. But she had stories about Aunt Siobhan, so I do understand. Do you know my name, Rosemary Cassandra O'Brien?"

"No, I don't. I see things, but I don't hear anything. But I saw your initials on your briefcase in a vision. LMMcD."

"Lindsey Michael MacDonald, at your service. Lindsey, after my mother's maiden name, Michael after my father." He gave just the slightest grimace when he mentioned his father. She knew why, as she had seen him, holding his dying baby sister in his arms when he was about 10, in the shack they called home.

"My father died about a month before I was born. Mom had told him not to go out that night, but he had to. A patient had gone into labor, and he was expecting a very difficult delivery. He never made it to the hospital. A drunken driver running a red light broadsided him. That's why I'm called Rosemary.

"Here's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Hamlet. Ophelia's mad scene?"

Nodding, she continued. "All of the women in my family have Cassandra as a first or a middle name. That's to remind us that even when we're right, we may not be believed." Realizing that she hadn't touched her chai, she took a sip. It was cold. But she didn't care. His eyes were so blue!!! She noticed he hadn't touched his coffee, either.

Suddenly both of them realized that the place had become packed. Two middle-aged blonde men, obviously brothers, were looking at them, or, rather, at their table. "Why don't you let me buy you dinner, Rosemary?"

"Why don't I cook you dinner?"

A beautiful smile broke over his face. Nodding, he picked up his cup and his briefcase. She picked up her cup and together they dumped their still full drinks into the trash. As they left, they heard one of the brothers say to the other, "Don't you just hate these generic coffee places, Frasier?"

"It's definitely not the Café Nervosa!"

Laughing, they headed for the door. He held it for her and then took her hand in his. Then he stopped and, impulsively, kissed her, the gentlest, softest, most beautiful kiss she had ever had. "I'm very glad I met you today, Rosemary."