May 18
Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Abby smiled as Ducky slipped his hand into hers. The steep hill was incredibly slippery when it was wet, and she didn't want her friend to become hurt. It would be too much for her to bear.
She adored Ducky. He was like a grandfather to her, albeit an eccentric English one. He spoiled her rotten and told her delightful stories of his own youth. He treated her in the form of new goodies to analyze and comforted her when she was upset.
He was the most charming man she had ever met, and she had met a few. His wit and demeanor always made her smile. She loved the way he was always dressed formally, especially his bow tie. And she adored the way he wore his bow tie under his official medical examiner outfit.
He was so kind and gentle, with oodles of patience. He could keep a secret better than most, even from Tony's prying nose.
She had always thought of him as courageous, prepared to stand up for what he believed was the right thing. She supposed it had something to do with his gentlemanly upbringing. He had a beautiful twinkle in his eye and was such a good listener. He listened to everyone without passing judgment.
He slipped slightly and she caught hold of his arm to prevent him from falling over. He gave her a wide smile, which she happily returned. She did not know what she would do if anything happened to her Ducky.