He saw her. Kite and string in hands, four-year-old on her hip, the face of a doll. Sure, he knew skin-deep innocence was a myth, but there was something about her that made him think about the good old days—days he had never actually experienced. He imagined she could stand in the shade and glow. She was a picture of vulnerability, and he found that attractive. He did not understand then that vulnerable people often had horrible self-images, and were capable of horrible deeds.

He stopped to ask what she was up to. She gestured helplessly to the kite.

“We’ve been trying to get it in the air but there’s no wind.” Her voice was so soft she was hard to hear. There was no ring on her finger, but he had to wonder if the child was hers. Something in her body language said no.

Matt gestured to the park. “There’s too many trees here. You need to go down to the beach.”

She nodded. She did not give the impression she wanted him to go away, but she was not exactly comfortable either. He offered to take the kite, surprised at his boldness.

“I can give it a running start. I used to run track in high school. I might be able to get it in the air.”

“Could you?” the little girl asked. They were somehow related; the child had the same incredible Latin eyes, lashes long as tears.

“Sure.” He glanced at the woman. “If that’s okay with you?”

She hesitated. “Fine.”

He took the kite and string and searched for a runway. The park was hopelessly choked with trees. Still, he was determined to get the blasted thing in the air. Taking off at a hard clip, he fed string after the kite. To his surprise it caught an invisible current and he was able to slow down. The kite bobbled between the branches and rose into the blue. The two joined him by the swings. Handing the string to the kid, he felt the courage to introduce himself.

“The name’s Matt,” he said, offering his hand. She touched it briefly.

“Amy.” She paused. “This is my niece, Debbie.”

“Hi, Debbie.”

“Hi! Thanks for getting my kite up!”

“You’re welcome.” He looked around. “Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes,” Amy said.

“I think I’ve seen you before.”

She nodded at the ground. Not big on eye contact.

“It’s a nice day,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“I hope I’m not bothering you.” He paused. “Am I?”

She shook her head.

“Hey, can I buy you coffee? There’s a Starbucks around the block.”

Amy gestured to her niece. “I promised her I would play with her for a while.”

“I understand. I’m out for a walk myself. But I’ll be back in an hour or so. If you’re still here would you like to go then?”

She considered. “Okay.”