Paula kept reading, immune to her daughter’s matchmaking.

       “You won’t even look because he has tattoos and drinks beer.” Paula heard the pout in the seven-year-old voice. “But you should, because he’s really nice.”

       After his death, Elly had transferred her dedication from reuniting her parents to replacing her father. Recent efforts included inviting the clerk at the hardware store to meet them at the park, asking a man in the deli if he forgot to put on his wedding ring, pointing out an attractive college student at the tennis court, and now, honing in on this tattooed regular at the swimming pool.

       “I’m serious, Mom. Real nice.”

       “I’m sure he is.” Paula slid her sunglasses on and glanced across the pool. Body art better described the scene on the man’s back. Man, or boy? Even from the distance, she could see it wasn’t the typical Tattoo Charlie collection. She also noticed the row of hoops hanging off his ear. What kind of man wore half-a-dozen earrings? He was probably young enough to be her son.

       A whistle sounded to end the break and Elly jumped off her chair. “His name’s Ben,” she said before she jumped in the water. Paula watched her daughter swim away before opening her book.

       The lifeguard spread her towel on Elly’s seat. “He never dates. I heard he hasn’t asked anyone out in years.”

       Afraid to show how that piqued her interest, Paula kept her eye on the page. “Who?”

       “Ben. He’s a nice guy.”

       “So I hear. A very young nice guy. With tattoos, earrings, and a cooler of beer. You interested?”

       “Not for me,” the guard answered. “Maybe for you.”

       “Jenny, don’t tell me you’re going to start too.” Paula stole another look, this time a front view. The scene on his chest might have been a continuation of what he had on the back. Still, she had to admit he was attractive. Nice body. Confident air. Some strange combination of rough and polished. Beautiful color, maybe NA cheekbones. If he didn’t date, it was obviously by choice, not rejection. Why did that interest her?

       She turned a page and stared at the words, not registering any of them. They had one thing in common; she didn’t date either, stopped because she didn’t like easy. Men either gave all or nothing and she’d take nothing, thank you. She wanted someone who didn’t make himself available, didn’t fall in love immediately. She wanted someone who would learn to love her, not imagine he loved the image he created of her.

       Jenny left to check the chemical levels in the water. Paula looked up and caught Ben’s eye as they both watched the guard complete her task and challenge Elly to a race across the pool. His smile felt nice, and held hers while he strolled around the pool and plopped in the chair that Jenny and Elly had been sharing. Five earrings, white teeth, not as young as he looked from afar, voice like Sam Elliott’s.

       He introduced himself, complimented her daughter, asked about her book, kept talking. Paula hung on every word, forgetting there was a world around them until he asked if she had eaten lunch. No, and neither had Elly. Now that she knew what kind of man wore a string of hoops on his ear, she wondered what kind of mother ignores her child all afternoon.

       “Lunch?” She looked at the sun, sinking behind a row of trees behind the pool. “I have sandwiches in the bag.”

       He shook his head. “Elly came and got them hours ago.”

       She laughed, despite her disappointment at coming back to reality. The matchmakers came back to join them, easing the discomfort that had crept in.

       “Jenny taught me to dive,” Elly said. Her eyes asked the question. Paula nodded.

       “She’s diving well,” Jenny said. “And I think she has something to ask you.” Jenny nodded at Elly.

       “Jenny wants me to spend the night with her. Can I?”

       Paula caught the wink Ben shot Jenny. “Sure. If Jenny wants you.”

       With a jerk of her head, Jenny led Elly away. “Come on, help me straighten the chairs before we leave.”

        “Forget lunch,” Ben said. They shared a moment of embarrassed laughter. “Have dinner with me. Seafood?”

       “I’ll have dinner with you if you’ll dance with me afterwards.” The words came without thought. She shrugged. “If I get a babysitter, I try to squeeze in all the fun I can.”

       When he came to the door to pick her up, she wondered if they would have recognized each other on the street. Dressed, with his hair down and no tattoos or earrings showing, he might have walked into a boardroom or off of a magazine cover. She hoped he was as pleased with her dry image.

       Dinner was a blur. She plunged into his smile and lost herself for the second time that day, captivated by his voice and all the words she didn’t want to hear but couldn’t let go. “I’ve watched you all summer, waited for you to notice, hoped for this night, memorized every inch of your body.”

       Her body did things she had only read about before. She felt as young as she had believed he was earlier, dizzy, and she doubted it was the wine. His smile made her want to cry those strange tears that usually came when she heard children sing, or saw people hugging in airports.

       “I’m not much of a dancer.” He lied. She was, and had never felt lighter on her feet or so perfect in any partner’s arms.

       Her cheeks ached from smiling, until the lights came on and the band packed up.

       “We have to go,” he said. She didn’t want to.

       They sat in the car and talked until the sun came up. Several times, she reached for the door handle but kept talking instead of opening it.

       “You need to sleep before your daughter comes home,” he finally said. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Well, later today.”

       Her heart danced. Everything made sense. This night validated all the hurt, the disappointments, the loneliness. She had to experience those times in order to appreciate this day when it arrived.

       A week passed. A week on the calendar, an eternity in her heart. One day. Dammit, she had known him for one day, so the devastation made no sense. She was greedy. She should be grateful for having known one perfect day.

       She reviewed everything she new about him. He had a happy childhood, problems later. She knew the jobs he had worked and the ones he had wanted and didn’t get, he was spiritual not religious, dreamed of flying. He liked South Park and home improvement shows and fed his dogs first thing in the morning. He liked John Mellenkamp but sang Red Hot Chili Peppers in the shower. He liked his shower steaming hot and his tomato soup cold. He respected his parents, admired his mother’s accomplishments more, and enjoyed his father’s company. He wanted to paint his motorcycle black and ride it to California, and he planned to buy his nephew a guitar for his birthday. She knew every line on his face, hair on his head, and the light in his eyes when he looked at her. And her thoughts came in his voice.

       How could he not come back when he had left that much behind?

       For a while, she questioned her sanity. “You saw him?” She asked Jenny and Elly and they laughed at her. "Sometimes I wonder if it was a dream, or fantasy.”

      The pain wore off when she realized she didn’t want to have the tattooed man, and admitted she wanted to be him. He represented the free spirit she had never accepted or understood in herself. He lived what she believed, did what she wanted, and enjoyed every minute of his life. She was jealous.

       “Mom,” Elly called. “Watch.”

       Paula looked up. “Wait for me.” She dropped her book on the ground, walked to the deep end of the pool, and took position. “On the count of three. One, two, three.” They dove in together.

       When the whistle blew for break, and they settled on lounges to rest, Paula closed her eyes and smiled. Wherever he was, she was sure he could feel her wish.

       Carry my freedom with you and live it for me. Sorry I couldn’t come with you.