The Idea of Love by Patti Callahan Henry

maybe they wouldn’t see her. But her eyes found them just as theirs found her, all at once and with wide surprise. She froze, as if in a dream where she couldn’t move. A really bad dream. There was Sims, his hand on Betsy’s back, his mouth open in surprise.
    They pulled in closer to each other and Betsy placed her arms around Sims, a move of ownership. Ella’s world was in turmoil, a twisted metal car accident. But she knew how to save face. She turned away from them and sauntered—she would not run—toward Hunter. “You ready to go?” she asked.
    â€œElla,” Sims called her name. She heard it. So did Hunter. He stopped.
    â€œSomeone is calling you,” Hunter said.
    Embarrassment would come later, a sick aftertaste in the back of her throat. But for now, she needed to get out of the caf é . She put on her best shaky smile. “Oh, I’m not in the mood for him. He’s … kind of annoying. Keep walking.”
    â€œOkay,” Hunter said. Not quite a statement. Not quite a question.
    â€œHe’s an old friend of my husband’s and I don’t want to hear any more condolences. I’m done with false reassurance, with prayers and love being sent my way.”
    â€œI get it,” Hunter said. “When my dad died I got more texts and e-mails and letters with ‘prayers’ than I’d received in my whole life. I know they meant it, but the words started to sound candy coated.”
    â€œYes,” Ella said, “exactly.”
    They rounded the corner and, brave face or not, Ella was starting to feel sick.
    â€œAre you okay?” Hunter asked as she dropped to a bench. “I thought you had to go to work.”
    â€œI’m fine.” She patted the bench. “So this park square is one of three in the town. The elementary school kids come here from half a block away. Sims and I had picnics here about once a month during the good weather, just to watch people and sit in the sun.”
    Hunter sat next to her. “I’m so sorry. It must be terrible to see him on every corner.”
    Oh, he had no idea.
    â€œDo you all have kids?” he asked. “I didn’t even ask…”
    â€œNo.” She shook her head. “We couldn’t.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œSeems like you’re having to say that to me a lot,” Ella said.
    â€œSorry about that,” he said, and then laughed. “Comes too easily I guess.”
    â€œDo you have kids?” she asked him, twisting to face him.
    â€œI do. A fifteen-year-old daughter.”
    â€œYou have a fifteen-year-old daughter? Oh, God. You’re in the thick of it for sure.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI was once a fifteen-year-old daughter,” Ella said.
    â€œAh, so is this normal? The kind of father-daughter standoff that hits at this age?”
    Ella closed her eyes for just a moment, imagining those days when she’d been so close to her mom, when her dad had tried so hard to be a part of their closed circle. She opened her eyes and looked at Hunter. “I don’t know, really, if it’s normal. But I know that you just have to keep being there for her.”
    â€œAre you close to your dad now?” he asked in a voice that sounded full of hope.
    â€œNo,” Ella said. “But it’s different. Very different.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œIt’s complicated.”
    â€œAh, it’s complicated. Meaning, you don’t really want to talk about it. Got it,” Hunter said.
    â€œThanks,” Ella said.
    â€œWell, now for the business part of our conversation.” He pulled out his notebook. “Tell me more about your city.”
    â€œBack in the day, whatever that means, the town was originally one square mile sitting on a bluff. They say we started the secession movement.” She spread her arms wide. “So this was the place where defiance was the definition. But