Next Door Daddy by Debra Clopton Page A

the hoe out of the way and grabbed for Bogie, too. The instant he added his strength to the opposing side, Bert let go. Probably out of sheer meanness. The lack of resistance sent Polly, Nate and Bogie thudding to the ground.
    Nate started laughing. She did, too.
    â€œYou two okay?” Gil asked, grinning quizzically at them with his hands on his hips.
    Polly nodded and met Nate’s eyes just as his laughter trailed off and Polly saw his eyes shadow. “Gil,” she said gently. “Why don’t you take poor Bogie inside. He’s been traumatized enough for one afternoon. I’ll take care of Bert. You can have some cookies and milk.”
    â€œGrrreat!”
    She watched him jog off, then glanced at Nate. “Are you okay?”
    He stood, his expression grim, his eyes so grief stricken that Polly thought she’d never seen anything so wounded in all of her life. Except she had. She recognized it as the look she saw in her own eyes when she looked in a mirror after something happened to make her miss Marc anew. Grief came in unrelenting, devastating waves like that. Even years later.
    Instead of answering, Nate held out a hand to her. Unsteadily, she slipped hers into his and let him tug her up. His eyes remained cheerless as he turned away and strode to the fence. So alone, Polly thought, her heart wrenching as she watched him, his shoulders hunched as he stared out toward the pond below.
    Polly wondered for a second if she was just imagining things. What made her think that she could read his mind? She didn’t really know Nate. But her heart told her she was right. He was thinking about his wife.
    Taking a deep breath, she went to stand beside him. “It’s hard, missing them,” she said softly.
    The only sign that he heard her was the slight nod of his head. Polly respected his response, if he wanted to share he would. She simply wanted him to know she would listen if he needed someone to talk to. Her gaze lingered on his unyielding profile that only moments ago had been alive with laugh lines. She longed to ease his pain.
    â€œYes,” he admitted finally, his voice cracking. His eyes softened for a moment before he brought the shields back up. In silence they watched a couple of birds play a game of carefree chase out over the pond.
    â€œWhat was her name?” Polly asked softly, curious about the woman he’d obviously loved so much, and realizing that she had yet to ask for that important piece of information.
    She felt his smile as his entire countenance shifted beside her. “Kayla.”
    The way he said his wife’s name touched Polly—rolling off his lips in a loving whisper. She could hear his love and was drawn to him, feeling such a connection with him. “Do you ever hear her talk to you?” Way to go, Pollyanna. He’d think she was some crazy crackpot who heard voices. And that wasn’t it at all.
    â€œNo one’s ever asked me that before.” His voice was low, stunned.
    â€œI’m sorry. I—”
    â€œYes.”
    Relief washed over her. She’d thought she’d upset him. “That’s a relief, I thought maybe I was the only one.” She smiled, unable to completely believe she was teasing about this.
    He shrugged, a half smile lifting his lips. “She gets mad that I don’t listen to her.”
    Polly wrapped her arms across her middle and turned to look up at him fully, her shoulder resting against a cedar fence post. She could tell he was shy about sharing something so personal. She understood wholeheartedly. “I know exactly what you mean. My Marc, he pushes me…Not really, you understand. But knowing what he would have said or expected in certain situations helps me.” She grunted as a half chuckle escaped. “It’s a good thing, though there are some times if he were here I’d wring his neck because of it.” She laughed at that, knowing it wasn’t true.