He shook his head. “It’s not for sure yet, so I won’t tell him till it is. I’ve been to Smith Mountain Lake like a million times, but I’ve never been to Disney World and it’ll be so cool.”

I was surprised how much my heart ached for Oliver. Truly ached. I rubbed my chest, thinking of how Oliver’s eyes lit up when he talked about having a whole week with his son. It had been a while since I’d felt such concern for someone, but then it had been a while since I’d had a friend who didn’t want something from me. A friend who only wanted to help me.

“Your dad would be really disappointed,” I said.

“I don’t think so,” Nathan said. “He actually hates how sticky hot it gets at the lake in the summer and all the mosquitoes and everything, so maybe he won’t care. And I really want to go to Disney World.”

Stay out of it, I told myself. This is not your problem. Yet a million responses ran through my mind. Don’t be so selfish! I wanted to say. You are so lucky to have a father who loves you and wants to do things with you and isn’t drunk all the time. Please don’t break his heart.

“I hope they have lots of mayo for the BLT,” Nathan said, and only then did I realize we’d reached the door of the café.

“I’m sure they do,” I said, and I followed him inside, vowing to keep my mouth shut. This was not my problem to solve. I had plenty of my own.

Oliver had set up a new workspace for himself in the foyer by the time Nathan and I returned with lunch. The folding table now held his computer, several of his towering stacks of paper, and the photograph of his son.

“All set here,” he said.

The three of us ate together sitting on the cool tiled floor. Then Oliver spent the afternoon teaching me about the conservation paints and how to use the annoying magnification visor, while Nathan played games on his dad’s computer.

“You have to forget you’re an artist,” Oliver said, as he demonstrated brushing the paint onto an abraded area. “Think more like a technician. You not only want to match the color of the area where you’re painting, you need to match the texture of the paint as well. The level of the gloss, too.” He showed me how to reduce the gloss of the paint by mixing it with a little silica, fine-tuning the result until it matched Anna’s oils.