“My whole life, Hutch, my entire freaking life, this woman was worried about what was and what was not appropriate. And look at her.” I took a juicy bite of my melt and wiped at the grease on my lips.

We turned to face each other, our knees touching. “What do you think changed?”

“Her heart broke, and then she was a wife and mother. The End. I think … I think this experience—whatever happened between this man and her—broke her heart permanently, and she decided that being appropriate was a much easier path. And she wanted an easier path for me … .”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m not sure I do, either. But whatever broke her that summer made her want to protect me from any such pain. I don’t blame her. I mean, I don’t ever want Lil to hurt or be broken. But …”

“But your mother wanted to make sure you weren’t a wildflower in her botanical garden.”

I looked away from him, digging my fingers into the corners of my eyes as if I could absorb the unbidden tears.

“Oh, Ellie. I’m sorry …” He took my hands and removed them from my face. “Look at me. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I ever, once, thought of it that way.”

“I was out of place there. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

I lifted my napkin and wiped my eyes. “You shouldn’t be sorry for telling the truth. Now, tell me about some of the other women in the exhibit.”

He took a french fry from my plate. “None of them are near as interesting as your mother. I can tell you that much.”

“Even after the things she said to you, you can talk nicely about her? After …”

“She just was who she was, Ellie.” He pointed to my purse. “You need to get that?”

“Huh?”

“Your phone—it’s ringing.”

“Oh.” I glanced down and then looked at him. “You know how sometimes you’re with someone and you’re talking and thinking about something or someone else … how you’re preoccupied and wish you were … elsewhere?”

He laughed. “Of course. Was your mind somewhere else?”

“No, that’s the thing. When I’m with you, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He settled back into his chair and smiled at me, taking one slow swallow of his Coke before he said, “I don’t think I have to tell you I feel the same.”

We talked our way through our sandwiches and two more refills of Coca-Cola.

“I should go,” I said.

“Yes.”

He dropped cash on the counter and we walked outside, where Hutch took a few more photos of the café from the outside. “Before and after photos … ,” he said.

“Nice idea.”