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of his
father。”
I shook my head。 “Why are you over here; Mr。 Duncan? If you don't think I need the help and
you're not feeling bad about the eggs; then why would
you do this?”
“Honestly?”
I just looked at him; straight in the eye。
He nodded; then said; “Because you remind me of my wife。”
“Your wife?”
“That's right。” He gave me a little smile and said; “Renée would've sat up in that tree with you。
She would've sat there all night。”
And with those two sentences; my anger vanished。 “Really?”
“Absolutely。”
“She's … she died?”
He nodded。 “And I miss her terribly。” He tossed a branch into the heap and chuckled。
“There's nothing like a head…strong woman to make you
happy to be alive。”
The last thing in the world I expected was to bee friends with Bryce's grandfather。 But by
dinnertime I knew so much about him and his wife
and the adventures they'd had together that it seemed like I'd known him for a very long time。
Plus; all his stories made the work seem easy。 When I
went in for the night; the bushes were all pruned back; and except for the enormous heap in
the center of the yard; things were already looking a
whole lot better。
The next day he was back。 And when I smiled and said; “Hi; Mr。 Duncan;” he smiled back
and said; “Call me Chet; won't you?” He looked at the
hammer in my hand and said; “I take
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