Picture This by Jacqueline Sheehan Page B

does it mean that you stopped loving your husband? I was just wondering because my mother has never dated anyone since my dad left, and she told me once that she still loved my dad. Did it click right away with you and Hill?”
    What was the girl asking her? Was there enough love in the world to go around? Was love finite? Did each person only have enough love for one good relationship? Rocky stopped picking her way along the boulders that sheltered the narrow strip of beach, unable to walk and think at the same time, given the weight of the questions.
    â€œI knew Bob was different from anyone else when I met him. I was a lifeguard at a pool, and he was trying to learn how to swim, and he was awful at it. He was a weird combination of strong, vulnerable, nutty, dedicated to animals, and funny, and the sum total fascinated me. I knew he was fascinated by me because he told me every chance he had. And I loved his hands. They were big and square, man-hands, yet because he was in the medical field he had to keep his hands clean constantly, and they were just . . . beautiful. The man had beautiful hands,” said Rocky. She had no idea if she was providing good information about love or only her own idiosyncratic attraction.
    â€œThat’s what love is?” said Melissa. She leapt from a boulder to the sand. Cooper launched into euphoria as soon as his paws touched the sand, bounding at a group of gulls that acknowledged his sense of power by flapping out to sea.
    â€œWhat I want to say is that love got bigger over time. Sometimes love got smaller. If we tried to change each other and tried to blame each other for our own miserable perception of life, then love grew smaller. But overall, the capacity for love grew bigger, and I don’t think that the bucket size is gone because Bob died. ”
    â€œWhat about Hill? He’s crazy nuts about you, and I think you like him. Is that love?”
    Rocky’s spine undulated at the thought of Hill, of the newness of their relationship that had recently gone from archery teacher and student to something else. Cooper brought Rocky a stick, and without thinking she heaved it into the ocean. “Damn, I didn’t mean for him to go swimming. He tricked me. He waits until I’m distracted, and then he gets me to throw his stick into the ocean. My entire house will smell like wet dog again.”
    â€œSo, back to Hill . . . ,” said Melissa with her hands on her hips.
    Rocky wiped her hands on her pants. “As crazy as it sounds, I can’t wait to see Hill and he’s only been gone two weeks. It doesn’t make my great big husband any less important. There’s got to be a physics equation for love. Maybe you and I can figure it out. Please don’t tell me you’re asking for a class assignment.”
    Melissa stuffed her hands into her armpits. “Nope. I just trust you, and someday I’ll have to know the rules of the game. That wind is cold. My mom is probably home and all namaste by now. I should head back,” said Melissa.
    Rocky was relieved that the girl seemed satisfied by her answers, particularly because she wasn’t sure that she could offer even one more tidbit.
    By the time Rocky and Cooper came home, it was nine. She looked immediately to her phone, but there was no blinking light. She called the number that Natalie had given her, the digits already engraved in her brain. This time a message machine picked up and she heard Natalie’s voice over the tinny sound of music, “Leave a message.”
    â€œThis is Rocky. I want to meet you. Please call me.”

Chapter 10
    A fter Melissa went home, Rocky walked to the ferry, put on a jacket for the fifteen-minute crossing, and picked up her Honda in the parking garage. There was only one place she wanted to be. Rocky wanted to be with Hill. She wanted to tell him everything about the girl who called, the odd catch in her voice, the terror of