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