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"I appreciate your kindness." She looks at the bags she's just put on the counter. "But just because I look old doesn't mean I'm frail. You hear me?"
"I do. Noted. Lunch will be ready in about thirty minutes."
"Perfect," she says, her smile turning mischievous. "Gives me plenty of time to check on the kids before I grill my grandson's fella."
"I had a feeling this was coming," I reply. "I might need some more caffeine for my interrogation."
I make another pot of coffee and take it out on the front porch. She spends some time with Bridgette and Kolby, and when she returns, fires off a round of interrogation-style questions. Nothing too major. She asks about where I grew up, what I studied, a bit about my work.
Things are going swimmingly until she asks the inevitable question. "What about your folks?"
"I'm super close to my dad. He's awesome. And my mom passed away when I was seven."
"Aw, I'm so sorry, my love."
"Thank you. It was a long time ago now."
I don't even know why I say it, why I try to diminish the pain just because it happened decades ago. Must be a force of habit.
"That doesn't make it any less painful," she says softly, echoing Wilby's sentiment when I said the same stupid thing to him.
I turn to face Polly and blurt out, "I still haven't scattered Mom's ashes. I brought them with me on this trip, hoping to find the right time, the right place to do it, but I'm afraid I'm going to chicken out again like I always do."
Whoa. I fall back into my chair, setting off a rocking motion. Why did I just reveal that?
"It's perfectly understandable you want to hold on," Polly counsels.
I don't say anything, just rock in my chair.
I'm scared of losing the few clear precious memories I have of her, so maybe holding on to her ashes gives me a sense of not losingeverything?
"You'll know when the time is right, my love."
"You think so?"
"I know so.
The oven dings. The food is ready. We look at each other for a moment. Polly smiles. "You're a good egg, Col. I'm glad Wilby met you."
"Thank you. I'm really glad I met him, too."
Her eyes twinkle before she gets up. "I'll round the kids up if you want to see to the food."
"Will do."
We enjoy a nice lunch with the kids telling us what they've been working on all morning. When it's time for them to get back to class, Bridge waves, but Kolby? The little dude runs right up to me and launches himself into my arms. It's such a simple thing, a hug from a kid, but it fills me with warmth.
I offer to stay and clean up, but Polly insists she's got it under control. I'm a fast learner so I don't even attempt to argue with her.
She walks me to an old Land Rover I can take back and leave at the vet clinic in Scuttlebutt.
I throw my overnight bag into the back seat. "Before I go, there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you."
"What is it? You can ask me anything."
"When we first got here, you asked if Wilby had sung at karaoke and mentioned something about it being a good omen."
She lets out a laugh. "It's an old wives' tale around here," she tells me. "The more people who sing, the more likely we are to get rain. Wilby's a hit at karaoke. Everyone loves him."
