Edith stood up abruptly and smoothed her skirt, though it was the kind of pleated wool, tartan plaid that had no need of smoothing. It was just an unconscious motion she performed, like a nonverbal paragraph break. It let her remove herself from the preceding few minutes and begin a new subject. She was doing what she was brought up to do. She turned and looked down at him, still sitting on the park bench and told him matter-of-factly, “As I said, we’re just friends.” She only looked at him long enough to complete that brief statement before she turned to walk away down the quiet path that led out of the park.

She seemed to like him in a lot of ways. Sure, they went places and did things that you would normally call “dates,” movies, the Joyrides amusement park by the river, dinners out, and all that. But he simply enjoyed talking with her and being in her company. She was interested in so many things and always wanted to learn more. When he talked about football, she apologized for knowing nothing about it and then bombarded him with questions to understand it better. He took her to one of the games at his high school alma matter and gave her a running commentary about what was happening on the field and impressed him with what she had learned already. And she told him all about the jewelry design she did. It was something that never quite engaged him, but the enthusiastic way she explained it, he found himself getting a real interest in it.