Triplets Find A Mom. Annie Jones

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СКАЧАТЬ dragged air into his lungs, ignoring the dull ache that still caught him by surprise even two years after his wife’s death. Maybe pain was the wrong word. Emptiness? Sadness? He didn’t know anymore. He’d made his peace with his loss, accepted it as God’s will and got on with normal life for his girls’ sake.

      That’s why he had moved them from the house he and his wife, Marie, had owned in their small town out to the family farm his sister had taken over from their parents. He did it to show the girls how life was about change and growth. What better place to show that than a farm? Were they not getting it? What more could he do?

      “And bless the new teacher, whoever gets her.” This time Hayley led off. “I hope she’s fun and smart and nice.”

      Again a twinge of emotion, only this time it was not grief but a mix of misgivings.

      “And it wouldn’t be bad if she also thinks triplets are cool. And also if she’s pretty—” Juliette turned her head enough to peer over her shoulder through one half-opened eye “—and not married.”

      It hit Sam like a sucker punch. This was why he needed to stop listening in on his girls’ prayers, because he did not want the girls using their prayer time to try to make a point to him. It didn’t matter if the teacher was pretty or single—all he cared about was how she would help whichever daughter landed in her classroom to have a successful school year.

      “What did you say?” He put his hand to the side of his head to remind them he was standing right there within earshot.

      “Amen,” Hayley concluded.

      “Amen,” the others agreed.

      “Go to bed,” Sam muttered, his hand on the doorknob. Just before he pulled it closed, he leaned in to add, “And tomorrow don’t make me remind you of my own personal set of no-no’s.”

      “We know. Dad, we know all about your no-no’s.” Hayley sighed, got to her feet and threw back the covers on her single bed. “No dogs.”

      That sounded particularly harsh all of a sudden after helping Polly Bennett wrangle that sweet little lost dog. But they had imposed enough on his sister’s time by moving in. To add pet care while he ran and remodeled Downtown Drug and while the girls were in school, and dance classes and tumbling and T-ball … just wasn’t fair.

      “It’s not the ‘no dogs’ rule I’m talking about,” he reminded them. “No …”

      Juliette and then Caroline rose, each flipping back the covers on their own beds, too.

      Three little sighs and three sets of eyes—probably rolling in irritation as they climbed into their beds.

      “And no …” he prompted one more time.

      “No matchmaking,” they all said as one. Then one, two, three, they pulled up their covers in a way that made Sam think of cartoon princesses flouncing off in a huff.

      “That’s right. Good night, sweethearts.” He gave them a nod and turned to shut the door at last, but just before he pulled it closed, he heard one of those little princesses mutter an addendum to his hard-and-fast no-matchmaking rule.

      “For now.”

      Ready? Had he thought he was ready? Oh, no. He was not ready for this. Not ready at all.

       Chapter Three

      Early that next morning, Polly hurried to the school, still feeling badly about the whole hat thing. With that weighing on her mind, she didn’t even feel like chattering out loud to her canine passenger as she drove the four blocks from her house to the place where her street, Mills, met Main. At the intersection, governed only by a four-way stop sign, she took a moment to read the official signs.

      “Baconburg Business District.” She glanced toward the road that she knew wound around toward the highway where a chain hotel, a couple of fast-food places and a mega grocery store dotted the landscape.

      She took a peek down at a patchwork of buildings that told the story of a town that had known growth spurts and setbacks. Polly smiled. “Baconburg Historic District, which means the cool stuff is thataway.”

      But Polly was headed straight down Mills to the school and she couldn’t linger any longer. She sighed. “Too bad there isn’t a hat-blocking place back there.”

      Oblivious, the dog bounced right to left, then right again. In a few minutes she pulled into the school parking lot. The only other cars seemed to belong to the staff.

      Today was the day the students would be finding out whose classroom they would be assigned to. The principal had okayed her coming in to collect some supplies but had asked that Polly not stick around to avoid “complications.” Polly understood the code word for school politics. She knew that as a fairly new teacher—just three years out of college—and totally new to Van Buren Elementary, some parents would have misgivings about their kids being assigned to her. Others would demand to have their children in Miss Bennett’s class, thinking she would have fresher perspective, all the latest approaches and no preconceptions about which were the good kids and which were the “problems.” Though Polly couldn’t really imagine how much of a problem your average small-town second grader could be.

      “No more problem than you right now, mister.” She whirred the window down a few inches, got out and shut the door. She started to turn toward the front door of the single-level blond-brick building, then suddenly felt compelled to explain, “You just have to stay here for two minutes while I run into my classroom here to get some paper. I can make up flyers there so we can find your parents, okay?”

      The thick tail thumped against the back of the seat and he whimpered softly as if to tell her he understood.

      She tapped the window. Did she really have to make flyers today? She had moved here to learn to take her time, relish the past and not be so anxious to press forward, after all.

      A silvery-blue minivan came gliding up past her car and pulled up to the curb in front of her.

      Parents were beginning to arrive. She had two choices. Go inside and get what she came for and get out. Or run away.

      The passenger door of the minivan swung open and Polly couldn’t help taking a peek.

      One little girl with a bright red ponytail, dressed in canvas-colored overalls over a lime-green camp shirt scrambled out onto the sidewalk with so much energy that she almost fell over herself. No, that wasn’t herself she had fallen over. It was …

      “Twins!” Polly couldn’t help it. She whispered the word in a rush of excitement to the little dog.

      The second child emerged. Her red hair was woven into a gorgeous French braid tied with a pink ribbon. In fact, everything she wore was pink. Pink top, pink skirt, pink sparkly shoelaces in pink sequined tennis shoes.

      Polly laughed out loud at the sight. “A set of identical—”

      A third child climbed out.

      “Triplets,” Polly murmured.

      This one wore tennis shoes, too, plain white ones. With faded jeans and an ill-fitting gray shirt. СКАЧАТЬ