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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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