After Grandma Kay left, Rae rushed over and hugged Wyatt.
He was still holding a camera and, afraid he might bump into her, placed his hands behind her, lifting them slightly, "What's wrong?"
"I think you're so great," she said.
Rae looked up at Wyatt, her gaze bright and fervent.
She probably knew why she liked him so much; he had what she lacked—kindness, integrity, and a sincere, passionate love for the world.
Wyatt put down the camera, "There's nothing great about that."
It started snowing outside again.
He freed his hands to hug her, "I'm sorry, I brought you here to see the snow, and I didn't accompany you."
"Seeing you is enough for me."
The next day, Myers didn't come, but Smith did instead. Smith was a very shy gentleman, not talkative and prone to blushing.
While Wyatt adjusted the camera's exposure, Rae sneaked over to touch the camera and feigned ignorance, "Why didn't Myers come today?"
"Didn't you say you didn't like him?"
So Wyatt had switched people.
