And thank you for listening.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
JACE
When someone comes along and makes you feel butterflies, you need to chase them.
Vi Keeland,Happily Letter After
Sam and I worked the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Not a bee in sight, we all ate a late supper together on the back patio, Max included. I saw Sam off when Polly took the kids up for bedtime.
The sun had set by the time I finished showering that night. Walking through the darkened house, I grabbed a beer from the fridge as I craned my ears, listening for any noise upstairs. It was way past the kids’ bedtime, and I was sure Ryla crashed hard. I wanted to go up and check on Max, but if he and Polly were together, I didn’t want to intrude.
Taking a long pull, I looked outside, straightening as I took in a familiar dark figure sitting outside on the patio steps. At the sound of the door, Polly jerked her head toward me. My heart sunk as moonlight illuminated the reflection of tears on her cheeks. I strode over, sitting next to her on the step. She’d turned her head, hiding her eyes from me. Her shoulders shook with quiet, muffled sobs and she sniffled, refusing to look at me as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. Slowly, I reached out with two fingers, placing them under her chin and gently turned her face to me. Her swollen eyes and tracks of her tears were a one-two punch to my chest. I brushed my thumbs under her eyes, brushing her tears away, not having any other thoughts than wanting to take this sadness away from her.
“What is it, darlin’?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about something someone said?—”
In that instant, I was resolved, clarity giving my mind a peace I hadn’t felt in days. Because it was simple: Polly should never be sad. She should always be happy. And whoever said something to make Polly sad, was a dead man.
It’s a good thing I had shovels, topsoil, and a willing best friend.
I dropped my hands to my knees. “Tell me who made you cry. I know the maze of roads by Bandit Lake like the back of my hand after driving for Lyft all these years, so I know all the best places to hide a body.”
Polly’s sniffles instantly quieted. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes less hazy than a few moments ago.
“What?” Her voice was still thick with tears. “It’s not like that. And while I’m . . . flattered?” She squinted one eye. “Maybe that’s not the right word, but no one did this to me except myself. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to stay.” She turned to look into the distance.
When I didn’t move for a good minute, she turned back to me with furrowed eyebrows.
I crossed my arms. “I’m staying here. What’s goin’ on?”
She huffed. “You’re a little bossier than I thought you’d be.”
Not rising to the bait, I waited. And waited some more. Finally, she sighed and looked down, speaking hesitantly as she kept her eyes trained on the steps in front of her.
“Max asked me about that family picture. You know, the painting you moved from the library?”
“I can put it back. If I’d known how much that cree—ativepicture meant to you, I’d never have moved it.”
“Itiscreepy. That’s not what I meant.” Polly patted my knee, letting her hand rest there as she gave the night sky a searching look. The first stars were probably starting to make an appearance, but I wouldn’t know. All of my focus rested with her hand on my knee.
“Max hadn’t asked me about it before. And then tonight he asked—” Her voice broke and I instinctively put my hand over hers, stroking the soft skin there with my thumb.
“He asked why I never talk about my mom. My first thought was that I must talk about her sometimes. But looking back, I don’t. I don’t talk about her. Ever. I don’t even know if the kids know her name. And she had a lovely name. It was Gloria. Don’t you think that’s lovely?”
I nodded, feeling helpless as I watched a tear escape down her cheek.
“She was the best mom,” Polly continued, wiping her tear away. “She was funny. She’d played with me and tickled me until I couldn’t breathe. She filled this house with music and fun and joy.” Moonlight reflected in her eyes, making them light up as she talked about her momma.
“She’d play hide ‘n’ seek and loved to cook. She tempered my father. He wasn’t always this horrible person. At least, I don’t think so.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. I could feel the tremble of her body next to mine.
“And then she died . . .” her voice trailed off and she whispered the next part. “And I didn’t realize a part of me died with her.”
Polly shuddered again, and I couldn’tnotput my arm around her any longer.
