“Their wedding was a long time ago,” Ava said, ready to move on.
Poppy stared wistfully at the photo. “I don’t really remember my daddy.”
Her words could make the most stoic of hearts cry. “Then I’m glad you have all these pictures to keep him close.”
Poppy’s blond curls danced as she nodded. “My mommy says he loved us very much.”
“Whatever.” Ava snorted and walked away, sandals slapping angrily against the floor.
“We get to talk to her tonight.” Poppy announced this with an excitement reserved for Disney World trips and visits from Santa. “We love talking to her, but Uncle Miller doesn’t, does he, Ava?”
Ava picked up her AirPods from her bed and stuck them in her ears. “Uncle Miller’s weird about a lot of things.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t like talking to your mom, sweetie?” I got down to eye level with Poppy, feeling as nosy as my grandmother.
“She always asks to talk to him, but then he leaves the room.” Poppy opened a desk drawer and peeked inside, done with the topic.
“Get out of there.” Ava moved across the room in three strides, then slammed the drawer shut and glared.
I tried my line of questioning on the surly big sister. “Are you saying Miller doesn’t talk to your mom? Ever?”
“Nope.” Ava scrolled through her phone and turned on music. “Let’s go downstairs and make sure Uncle Miller hasn’t burned down the back porch.”
“Uncle Miller!” Poppy’s maudlin moment disappeared as quickly as it came as the man in question stepped inside the room.
Had he heard what we were discussing? And if so, how much?
“Did someone question my grilling skills in here?” Miller scooped up Poppy, his eyes briefly holding mine. “Hello, Hattie. Glad you could join us.”
“Hey,” was all I said. As in,Hey, I watched for you in the fields today but never found you. Hey, I don’t know why I’m here.Or,Hey, why do you look at me like that when we’re only friends?
“Who’s hungry?” Miller set a squealing Poppy down and gave her and Ava a light nudge out the door. “Let’s get downstairs and eat.”
Miller held back, his gaze dark and filled with warning. “No psychoanalyzing my nieces tonight.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. The girls and I were having a friendly conversation. That’s all.” I sailed past him and made my way downstairs.
I had questions about Miller and his sister.
Maybe I wouldn’t find any answers tonight.
But I would get them.
* * *
Dinner was a noisy affair that reminded me a bit of dinners when I was a kid. Miller kept the conversation light with stories of adolescent antics with his sister and babysitting hijinks when the girls had spent time with him through the years. Even Ava laughed a few times, which only encouraged Miller’s silliness more.
He was a natural with his nieces, and they clearly worshipped him. I loved how his phone was out of sight and all his work was pushed away. Miller gave the girls his full attention, listening to Poppy’s random tales from pre-K that tended to end with someone either eating glue or getting a time-out. He even acted like he enjoyed Ava’s two-word answers when he asked her about school.
“You’re doing a lot right with those girls,” I said to Miller two hours later, as I stood beside him at the sink and helped with dishes. Kayce had just called, and the girls were huddled around a laptop in the living room talking noisily with their mom.
“Thanks.” He handed me a plate to rinse. “It’s hard.”
“That pretty much sums up adulthood, doesn’t it?” I set the plate in a drying rack. “It’s hard.”
“They should’ve warned us as kids.” Miller reached for a towel. “Most days I want a refund.”
“Bills, stress, jobs, slowing metabolism. It’s kind of a rip-off.”
