“No.” Polly crossed her arms. “We just moved here in June. I grew up around here.”
I’d been cataloging everything she was saying. Moved here last month, check. Grew up here, but no accent, check. Single. Two kids. On call for the hospital. Check, check, and check.
“Did you move back here for work?”
She opened her mouth, then shook her head and snapped it shut. “Yes.”
Her reply was simple, yet I had a feeling that the story was anything but. I didn’t get the impression that a follow-up question was going to get me anywhere, so I pivoted. “Your daughter’s a real hoot and a half. She had the entire group in stitches when it was her turn with the puppets, pretending the monkey was in love with Bert. It was brilliant. I honestly wish I’d thought of it.”
Polly’s lips slowly curved into a smile as I recounted the story.
“My Ryla?” Polly’s voice was gentle as she took a step forward. It seemed unconscious, though, like she wasn’t aware she’d moved closer to me.
“Yup.” I nodded. “She was the first volunteer. In the middle of her act, she couldn’t figure out how to move one of the mechanisms for the puppets and looked like she was either gonna cry or throw it on the ground.” I raised my eyebrows. “I’m still not sure which. Then a boy who must be your son came and whispered in her ear, calming her down instantly.”
Polly shifted, looking down briefly. “Ryla has a bit of a temper, but my son, Max, is incredibly patient with her.” The melancholy in her tone confused me, as did the strong urge that came over me to take away her sadness.
“She’s a natural onstage,” I continued. My words were true, but I picked them carefully, wanting to see Polly smile again. “You can’t teach that kind of comedic timing. You should think about having her join Young Wills. It’s a theater program for elementary and middle school kids that live in the Green Valley School District. They meet every Tuesday and Thursday evening at the high school auditorium during the summers.”
I could have explained more definitively that I was one of the three instructors, but I didn’t.
“Ryla would love that. Is the program open to new kids right now?”
“Absolutely!” . . .not.“I know the women who run it. If you’re interested, just give me a call and I can reach out to them.”
Polly’s head tilted to one side. “I’d need your number for that.”
“Are you asking for my number? It’s a little forward of you, but I guess that’s alright,” I teased, making a big show of looking down and patting my hands over my pockets. I peeked up at Polly to find she was grinning, making me feel ten feet tall, pleased I’d put a smile on her face. More than pleased if I was being honest. I was playing a losing game, asking for her number, counting her smiles, knowing this would never lead anywhere. And yet, I couldn’t help myself.
“Young Wills is always looking for stage crew, too. If your son wanted to join, he’d be welcome. I get the impression he prefers to be out of the spotlight.”
Polly’s eyes softened a touch. Not taking her eyes off mine, she took her phone out of her pocket, holding it up. “What’s your number?”
Caught by her gaze, feeling like we were in our own world, I only started to recite my number when a short blonde head blurred past me, breaking the spell.
“Mommy!” The aforementioned hoot and a half practically tackled Polly, holding tight around her momma’s waist. The force of Polly’s full wattage smile was blinding when she looked down at her daughter. Never mind hoping for Polly’s small smiles. I wantedthatsmile. The one paired with pure happiness on Polly’s face. And I wanted it aimed at me.
“Hi Ryla, sweetie, did you have a fun day?” Polly asked as Ryla bounced up and down, still holding on to her momma.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes—” Ryla’s chant cut off abruptly as she turned and saw me. Her eyes popped wide in recognition at the same time a few kids walked past us, calling out, “Bye, Mr. Jace! See you at Young Wills tonight!”
Polly’s head snapped in my direction at their words. Sheepish grin in place, I came clean. “I might help out with the Young Wills program from time to time.” As ineverytime.
Movement directed Polly’s attention down the hallway. Her son was walking behind a group of kids, eyes downcast, but looking up every once in a while. His face lit up when he saw his momma. As Max reached them, he gave his mom a side hug then shifted his eyes to mine curiously for a beat, then flitted away.
“Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, moooooom,” Ryla chanted again, demanding Polly’s attention.
“Ryla. I hear you,” Polly replied calmly, looking to her daughter. “What is it?”
Pointing a little finger at me, Ryla announced, “He has the puppets. Mr. Jace! Can I show my mom the puppets?”
Polly’s head was shaking before her daughter could get the full question out. “You know Max has an appointment this afternoon. We can’t be late.”
“I don’t wanna go there. It’s boring. I want to see puppets!” Ryla’s little face scowled as Max’s blanched.
Reaching in and out of my pocket discreetly, I knelt down in front of Ryla. “It’s Ryla, right? I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to show you the puppets again today. Besides, they’re all packed up.” I gestured to the suitcases beside me. “But I’ll tell you what. I’ll be back on Thursday. You can take another crack at ’em then.”
As Ryla’s green eyes lit up, I felt Polly’s on me.
