“Right now I’m praying that I can stick around for two years to finish my degree, but I’ll add Miss Nancy’s continued health to the bottom of my lengthy prayer list.”
“Don’t look now, but a suspicious man just spotted us and he’s walking this way.” Meg’s words were muffled behind her hand.
Sarah watched Cullen approach. He seemed much more relaxed than he had in the lecture hall. In one hand he clutched a bunch of flowers and with the other he gripped the handles of an oversize canvas bag stamped with a recycle emblem. When he stopped at the head of their table, Sarah stood to make introductions.
“Cullen Temple, this is my mother, Margaret Callaghan, and my daughters Carrie, Meg and Hope. Ladies, this is my instructor, Dr. Cullen Temple.”
There was silence except for a nod from her mother.
Sarah stamped her foot, a not-so-covert sign for her daughters to use their manners.
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” the girls responded politely as they’d been instructed all their lives.
“I appreciate your mama inviting me. I love a pizza buffet.”
* * *
NOT FEELING OVERLY WELCOME, Cullen decided to go straight for the peace offerings, hoping the atmosphere would warm up. He set the canvas bag on the tabletop and handed the flowers to Sarah’s mother.
“These are for you, Mrs. Callaghan. My mama taught me that you never go to a woman’s dinner table empty-handed, not the first visit, anyway.”
Next he made a production of poking around in the bag, which seemed to get the girls’ attention.
“I had to shop fast and I only have brothers so I hope I did okay,” he apologized as he withdrew a trinket for each of the sisters. For Carrie, whose hair was...purple...there was a paperback volume of Vampire Academy, the first in a popular young adult series. He presented Meg with a silver-tone bracelet that had a dangling smiley face charm inscribed Don’t Worry, Be Happy. And for Sara’s youngest, who was missing her front two teeth, there was a fluffy stuffed bear holding a velvet heart that read Faith, Hope and Love.
“I think this was meant just for you,” Cullen said as he handed over the teddy.
“What did you bring for Mommy?” Hope asked.
“The best gift of all,” he answered as he rubbed his palms together.
He reached to the bottom of the bag and then pulled out a thick, gray volume. Black letters on the spine read European Civilization. It was the very expensive textbook for his class.
“I can’t accept this, Cullen.”
He waved away her concern. “Dr. Mastal kept a stack in his office for loaners. When the semester is over you can return it and I’ll use it to bless another unsuspecting victim.”
“Hey!” Carrie had glanced up from her novel and was studying Cullen through squinted eyes, her index finger pointing a silent accusation his way.
Margaret nodded her head. “I was just about to say the same thing.”
“What?” Meg slid the bracelet over her hand and rejoined the conversation.
“You look just like the Cowboy Chef!” Carrie insisted.
“Actually, I’m the older twin, so he looks just like me.”
“You’re brothers with the cutest chef on food television? Awesome sauce!” Meg exclaimed.
“Why don’t we go fill our plates and you can hear all about it while we eat,” Margaret suggested. She took charge and herded the girls toward the buffet line.
“Thank you for everything, Cullen. You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble and expense.”
“It’s only one evening of my life and it’s the least I can do for your family. If I never meet your girls again they’ll have a personal reminder of a Temple brother—even if they forget about me and only remember the Cowboy Chef.”
He smiled, not the least bit bothered by the shadow his twin cast.
“Shall we?” Sarah suggested.
“After you.” Cullen stepped aside to let her take the lead.
He smiled as he watched the family of women load their plates, but inwardly he shuddered over what the atmosphere must be like in their home. The noise, the bickering, the demands, the drama—all the stuff he did his best to keep out of his life. Anything short of peace and quiet might tempt his old nemesis, anxiety.
What he’d said to Sarah was true. Giving up one evening was an easy gesture to make, especially for one of his students. But a steady diet of this bunch would not simply have him under the covers, it would have him under the bed!
TWENTY STEPS OUTSIDE the pizza parlor door, Hope dug her heels into the sidewalk and pointed toward a maintenance alley beside the restaurant.
“Mama, look!” she insisted.
All heads turned at the urgency in her voice. By the entrance to the alley, a small life shivered, barely noticeable, cowering in the shadow of a Dumpster.
“It’s a puppy!” Hope squealed, and tugged harder on Sarah’s hand in an effort to get closer. “Let’s go get it!”
“Wait!” Meg cried even louder. “It could be rabid.”
“Its ears are too short to be a rabbit.”
“Rabid, not rabbit, you stupid baby,” Meg chided.
“Mona Margaret, what have I told you about name-calling?”
“That it’s ugly, inappropriate and indicates a weak vocabulary,” she said, repeating what Sarah said to her daughters at least twice a day. “But she is a stupid baby sometimes.” Meg always had to have the last word.
The whimper of the animal echoed in the alley.
“Do something!” Hope pleaded.
“Stay put and let me check things out,” Cullen instructed, handing his to-go box of pizza to Sarah.
He made his way cautiously, stopped several feet away and knelt to the dirty concrete. The shaggy thing stood, unfolding long wobbly legs. Cullen rested one hand atop his knee, palm down to allow the puppy to make the first move. Even from a distance Sarah could hear soft murmuring as Cullen appealed to the frightened pup. It slowly crept forward, sniffed cautiously, then retreated behind the safety of the Dumpster.
“Don’t leave him there!” Hope broke the quiet that had enveloped their group, startling everyone.
“Will you shush, please?” Carrie reprimanded her sister, who complied for once in her life.
Cullen crept down the alley and slipped out of sight in the direction the dog had gone. Long moments later he returned, a wad of blond fur enfolded in his arms.
“I thought his mama might be in there, too, but he was all alone,” Cullen explained, keeping his voice low as he got closer.
Sarah kept a tight grip on her youngest daughter, certain Hope’s excitement would spook the already-frightened animal. Cullen moved underneath the glare of the parking lot lights and they could see the puppy, long legs dangling, curly fur in need of a bath, its muzzle shyly tucked beneath Cullen’s elbow.
“Poor thing. He must be lost from his family.” Hope reached up to softly stroke an ear that flopped over Cullen’s arm.
“It’s more likely he was left here on purpose in the hope