Triplets Find a Mom

by Annie Jones

  Don’t look back… Sam wanted to plead with his child, Let your mother go and don’t dwell on the loss. A lump rose in his throat, which he pushed down again. He turned away. No point in standing there having his heart tugged toward a past he could not change. His life…more importantly, his daughters’ lives, lay ahead of them and he had to keep fixed on that and never stop moving forward. It was the only way they could survive.

  “If Mom is there with You,” Juliette took over for her sister, her tone bright and cheerful, “give her a hug from us.”

  Sam froze in the dim hallway.

  And finally Caroline added softly, “And tell her we will never forget her.”

  Sam 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. Her hair was caught up in pigtails, the right one a good two inches higher than the left.

  That was the one that got to Polly. She felt a smile start that grew beyond simple amusement to recognition of a kindred spirit. All three girls turned and looked at her, their eyes wide.

  Polly wondered if she should say
hello. It seemed wrong to just get in her car and rush off now. Maybe she should wave and say, See ya soon, I hope. Or should she ask their names? Before she could speak or move or even make up her mind, the driver’s door swung open.

  “I told you girls we were leaving too early. I don’t know if the doors are even open yet.” A large, weathered cowboy boot hit the concrete followed by more than six feet of tall, muscular man.

  Polly leaned back against the car, a bit for support, a bit to give her room to take in the whole view. “You!”

  “Me!” Sam grinned as he shut his door and started toward her. “So, you have a kid in this school, too?”

  “Too?” Polly looked at the children, then at the van and realized nobody else was getting out.

  He pointed toward the girls each in turn. “Hayley, Juliette and Caroline.”

  “Those are…your daughters?” Sam Goodacre had identical triplets. Some women might have wanted to run from a situation like that, but for Polly, just seeing these girls made her feel less homesick for her own twin.

  “Yeah.” He held up three fingers. “All mine. And you…”

  Three high-pitched squeals tore through the quiet air of the summer morning.

  “You…brought…a dog.” They all sang out a variation of almost the same thing.

  “I don’t have any kids, Sam. I’m not even married.” Polly moved closer to him to speak softly enough that the girls wouldn’t hear as she whispered her confession, “I’m the new teacher.”

  “Of course you are.” He shook his head. “You are the single, new teacher with an adorable, homeless puppy.”

  In a flash of red curls and giggles, the girls ran up to the car. The puppy rushed to the side and licked the place where the small hands pressed against the glass.

  “You say ‘new teacher’ like it’s a bad thing.” She ducked her head to try to meet his lowered gaze. “It’s because of the hat thing, right? It’s the hat?”

  “Forget about the hat. That’s the past.” He waved his hand as if actually pushing it behind them. “No, it’s more complicated than that, starting with the fact that my girls are starting second grade this year. This is Hayley. That one is Juliette.” He pointed to each girl as he spoke. “And that is Caroline.”

  “Oh.” Polly whipped around and saw the girls in another light—not as fellow multiples but each a potential student.

  The one Sam called Caroline gasped, her eyes grew wide and in that second there was a light in her to rival her other sisters’ natural vivaciousness. Caroline turned her head to tell Polly, “I like your dog.”

  “He’s not mine, really.” She slipped away from Sam and went to the children. “I found him hanging around my house. I’m going to put up flyers to see if I can find his real owners.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I know his real owners.” Caroline jerked her head around to fix her huge, pleading eyes on her father.

  “Me, too.” Juliette ran to the car to peer inside.

  “Me, too, too,” Hayley said with sweetness but conviction.

  Sam strode forward from the parking lot to the sidewalk, motioning the girls away from the car. “Okay, girls, you know the rules.”

  “We weren’t matchmaking, Dad,” they all protested together in perfect harmony, a trick only identical multiples could fully pull off.

  “Matchmaking?” Polly laughed, a bit too nervously for her own comfort. What was this all about? Sam had a rule against matchmaking?

  Sam scowled. “I meant the rule about dogs.”

  “Oh, so we can matchmake?” Hayley rushed forward.

  “No.” He spread his hands wide as if calling a runner out at home plate.

  Polly felt a blush rush from the constriction in her chest to the tips of her ears. She didn’t know if she should say something or get out of there fast.

  “You know we can’t have a dog right now. You have too many activities. Juliette, you want to give up ballet?”

  The girl opened her mouth, but before she could actually give an answer, the man moved on, intent on making his point quick and clean. It was a familiar means of “communicating” in her family and it made Polly tense up.

  “And, Hayley, you have your hands full with your 4-H projects, right?”

  Hayley put her shoulders back and didn’t answer—a means of getting her message across that Sam did not seem to notice.

  “And, Caroline…well, when school starts I’m sure you’ll find some things to keep you busy. We’re all busy. Bringing a dog into our lives now wouldn’t be fair to your aunt Gina having to care for it, or to the dog not getting our full attention.”

  Caroline glanced back and the dog. “But…”

  “We don’t even know.” Sam tried to glower at the girls then at the dog, but he didn’t quite pull it off. “This dog may belong to someone.”

  “He does belong to someone, Daddy, to us,” Caroline insisted in such a plaintive voice that Polly could feel the longing in her own bones.

  “No.” Sam’s insistence told a story of something more going on than his simplistic explanation. “He is not ours.”

  “He should be ours,” Hayley said firmly.

  “He could be ours.” Juliette spoke a bit more tentatively.

  Caroline fixed her eyes on her father and added, “If Mama was alive, he would be ours.”

  Sam pressed his lips into a thin white line.

  Maybe she was overly sensitive because she’d been so lonely last night, or because she felt so guilty about Sam’s hat, or maybe because she honestly liked Sam and felt a connection to his daughters. Whatever the reason, Polly couldn’t stay quiet another minute. She hurried to the driver’s side door, her keys jangling in her hand.

  “You know,” Polly said as she rushed to his rescue and put the key in the lock, “I think I’ll just take care of him until we find out if someone is looking for him. Right now I’ve got to go. The teachers aren’t supposed to be here when the kids and parents start to show up. Bye, girls, it was so nice to meet you.”

  The girls all groaned.

  Sam mouthed a thank-you that made her feel good and a little sad at the same time. How she longed to point out those missed clues with the girls. Why wouldn’t he allow them to have a dog? And the no-matchmaking deal?

  Suddenly instead of seeing a funny, kind man of faith she perceived the hurt he hid even from himself.

  As she drove away from the family scene, her gaze fell on the hat that she had left in the car last night. She couldn’t talk rules or matchmaking with Sam, couldn’t interfere with his parenting, but she could help him out here. She could do everything within her power to get this puppy back to his real home so that she could give the dog and the girls a happy ending. But to do that she had to act fast.

  “You know, for someone who came to Baconburg to slow down the pace of her life—” she told her passenger, who woofed softly in response “—I sure have been in an awful big hurry ever since I met that Sam Goodacre.”

  “So?” Sam’s younger brother, Max, called out the second Sam came blowing through the back door of Downtown Drug.

  He had taken the girls back to the farm after they’d gotten their class assignments. The whole process had taken longer than he’d expected and he was late getting in to open the store. The girls had actually taken their assignments pretty well. Hayley and Juliette patting Caroline on the back as a kind of congratulations, even, and saying they didn’t mind. Until they learned just who the new teacher was.

  Sam had met the cries of “unfair” and pleas for him to go to the school and let them all be in Miss Bennett’s class with his usual “let’s not let this slow us down” answers, which hadn’t helped much. Maybe it was because for the first time in a long time, he hadn’t really believed his own proclam
ations. In finding out Polly had this connection to his children, it wasn’t just the two girls in the other classes that felt just a little bit cheated.

  “So?” Max’s voice rang out again. “Just how cute is this new teacher?”

  The first thing Sam encountered was the last thing he had the time or patience to put up with.

  “I spoke with her for five whole minutes in front of the school this morning.” Sam slipped the long white lab coat he kept hanging on the door of the pharmacist’s station over his street clothes. He strode farther into the old store where his little brother, Max, stood amid a disarray of power tools, how-to manuals and a row of still-crated restaurant-grade appliances. “Do not tell me it’s all over town already?”

  “Hey, you belly crawl across the new lady in town’s driveway one evening, then get spotted talking to her in front of the school the next day?” Max grinned his famous cocky grin, and gave an unconvincing shrug. “People are gonna talk.”

  “She’s Caroline’s teacher.” In Sam’s mind that was the end of the discussion. He moved on toward the front door, flipping on display lights and setting things in their rightful spots.

  “So?” Max called after him, not budging so much as an inch to help prep the place for the coming day.

  So. Max had a way of asking something that Sam had no way of formulating an answer to.

  “Look, it’s Baconburg. Everyone is somebody’s teacher or scout leader or church youth-group leader or cousin or… You get it. As long as you keep things on the up-and-up and don’t give anyone reason for concern vis-à-vis the whole teacher-as-a-role-model thing, I think you could manage a few dates with the lady.”

  Sam gripped the door’s ice-cold metal handle until the chill sank through all the way to his fingertips. He clenched his jaw and looked out at the town where he had grown up, the place that had cheered him in his youthful triumphs and embraced him in his time of deepest grief. He had fully prepared for his faith and this town to sustain him as he raised his girls and they grew up and had their own triumphs. That had been his sole priority.