by Annie Jones
It was totally unfair means for him to get his way. And it worked.
Polly took a breath, pressed the button to save the photo in her phone and laughed. “Right. Okay, I’ll be there.”
Maybe he’d listened in or maybe he was just entertaining the kids, but just then the fireman driving let the siren go.
Polly’s gaze met Sam’s, and she knew deep down that the sudden blaring sound was not the only reason her heart rate had begun to race.
Chapter Eleven
Polly and Donut made the drive out to Goodacre Organic Farm without incident. If you didn’t count reconsidering the wisdom of spending the day with Sam and his family…all right, mostly Sam…so much that she almost turned around twice a non-incident. The second time she thought about not going ahead, her cell phone rang. That gave her the perfect excuse to pull over to the side of the road.
“Hello?” Maybe the barbecue had been called off. She squelched the silly thought as soon as it popped into her head.
Actually, it turned out she would have liked that turn of events better than the news she got.
“Of course, of course,” she found herself saying to conclude the short, slightly panicky conversation with Ted Perry’s neighbor because she didn’t know how to say what she really wanted to say. “Of course I can bring him over. Tomorrow? After school?”
She clicked the button to end the call, then stole a peek over her shoulder at Donut. “She says she checked the dog pound daily and didn’t see any of the flyers. I think she saw them and thought I’d make a convenient dogsitter until somebody Ted works with saw you.”
The dog’s thick tail beat against the side of the carrier.
The sound echoed the heavy pounding of Polly’s heart. She thought of calling the Goodacres and canceling, but she’d told the neighbor she couldn’t bring Donut over because she was on her way to a party. So if she didn’t go, she’d need to give the dog back sooner. A lump rose in Polly’s throat. She didn’t know when she had ever felt so alone.
She grabbed the keys to start the car again, but reached for the phone instead and called her sister, Essie.
“I should have known I’d get your voice mail.” Polly had known, if she were honest with herself. She had probably wanted to get it, in fact. Just hearing her sister’s voice eased her jangled nerves. And if her sister had actually answered, Polly probably would never have had the gumption to speak her heart as she did. “I miss you. I miss the whole family, but you especially. And not just because of your cooking because Sam, you remember Sam? The widower whose hat I ran over? Well, he has a brother who is cooking today. So I am covered in the getting-fed-without-eating-my-own-cooking department.”
Polly clenched her teeth and paused to keep her voice from breaking. “Listen to me, stalling, when what I really want to do is pour my whole heart out to you. Essie, I really thought I was making a good move coming here. That I’d finally find my way, but I am so afraid I’m not fitting in here, and if I don’t fit here and I don’t fit in Atlanta, then…”
An electronic beep on the line told her she’d run out of time. She gazed at her phone and contemplated calling again to finish her thought. Or recant it. She didn’t want her family to worry.
After a moment, she decided to leave it as it was. Essie would understand and in a way only a sister could. Polly started the car again, then checked the clock in the dashboard.
“Oh, great. On top of everything else, the new girl is going to be late!” She hit the gas and took off down the vacant road. The rural countryside that had reminded her on her first trip out to the farm of quaint paintings and photos from calendars whizzed past. She didn’t waste a minute admiring those kinds of scenes.
“What?” she asked the dog, who was safely tucked into a borrowed carrier in the backseat. “Peace? Acceptance? Happiness? I’ve chased it so long without a real definition of what I’ve wanted out of life that I’m not sure I’d even recognize it if I ran into it.”
Sam’s poor hat. Her thoughts raced faster than her quiet little hybrid car, jumping from her concerns to her desire to make a good impression to the still- crumpled hat sitting in her kitchen. She really had to get that taken care of. Not that he seemed to miss it. “That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? The fact that he acts like he doesn’t care about it, this whole get-over-it, keep-moving-forward attitude of his? I don’t buy it.”
A quick, sharp woof seemed to ring out in agreement.
Before she could compliment her canine companion on his obvious people skills, Polly heard the voices of the triplets behind her. How was she going to tell them about the neighbor wanting Donut back?
“Wait! The triplets?” She hit the brakes. She had completely missed the driveway where they were standing waving their arms.
She’d come out here today as a comforting distraction, but in doing so, had she just employed Sam’s just-keep-pushing-onward strategy? Was she becoming more like her own family and Sam’s ideal of a family than becoming her own woman? The notion gave her a shiver.
She backed up slowly, careful of the three girls jumping up and down and calling, “Miss Bennett! Miss Bennett!”
Polly motioned for the girls to stay clear as she parked at the end of a row of vehicles. Suddenly she wondered how many people would be there, and what they would think of the new teacher being invited out by the local most-eligible single dad? She just managed to get out but not to get into the backseat to let Donut out of his carrier when the girls surrounded her.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Miss Bennett!” Juliette clapped her hands and jumped up and down.
“Hurry up and come with us.” Hayley pointed to the band of wide gravel intended for farm visitors’ vehicles. “We have a lot to get done!”
“What is it with you Goodacres? In the South we at least take a minute to welcome our guests before we put them to work.” She meant it to sound teasing, not scolding, but as Juliette and Hayley hurried off, Polly began thinking of a way to make sure they knew she wasn’t mad.
She shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath and then heard a small, sweet voice.
“Did you bring Donut?” Caroline rose up on tiptoes as if she might catch a glimpse in the car. “Daddy told us that the lady firefighter thinks she knows his other owner. Do you still have him?”
“He’s right here.” Polly put her hand on the girl’s back reassuringly as she reached for the car door handle.
Caroline looked up at Polly, her brown eyes somber but filled with hope. “Can I help take care of him today while everyone does stuff?”
One last time. The little girl didn’t say it but it was in her tone. That, on the heels of the call Polly had made to Essie, cut right through to Polly’s heart. In that moment she felt not much older than the triplets herself.
The memory of being the sister who always lagged behind welled up within her. Deep down, Polly was still the one whose dreams seemed small and unambitious, her skills and accomplishments never measuring up to her twin’s, the one whose simple plans never quite came true. If there was any way she could help Caroline grow up without that legacy, Polly determined she would do it.
She could start by giving Caroline something to take pride in, being the one Polly trusted with this important task. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with your dad.”
They got the dog out and while Polly did hold the leash, Caroline kept her hand on it, too, and marched along at Donut’s side. They followed Hayley and Juliette’s path to the back part of the farmhouse and straight into a scene of chaos already in progress.
Gina, standing beside a large paper flip chart with all sorts of frantic-looking scribbles on it, waved a large black marker in her direction. “We’re divvying up assignments. This is everyone who’s going to run games, booths, parking or sell food, for the Pumpkin Jump.
Everyone, this is Polly Bennett.”
The half dozen or so people seated at the long picnic table in front of her all turned their heads to peer at the late arrival.
“Hi.” Polly tried to wave and ended up slapping herself in the knee with the dog leash.
The group didn’t seem to notice. They waved, and some called out, “Hi, Polly.”
“Miss Bennett, Miss Bennett!” Juliette and Hayley all but did acrobatics to draw her attention. “Everyone has stuff to do! You can do something with us, too, if you want.”
Max stepped away from the large brick barbecue and gave a salute with long silver tongs. “Juliette, Hayley and I could use some help here. We’ve got platters of burgers and hotdogs to grill. Or you can help my grumpy old brother collect some pumpkins for the committee photo. I have to warn you, though, that’s not the glam job it sounds like.”
“Yep, it’s just me, a field and a little red wagon.” Sam came wheeling out a child’s wagon with slatted sides. He let the handle drop and bounce off the sidewalk.
The group groaned.
Gina shook her head.
“No fair playing the pity card, old man.” Max brandished the tongs with a flourish. “Although of the two of us, you probably do need the most help, lifting those heavy pumpkins and getting them back to the house.”
“Yeah, yeah. Walking and lifting and working in the fields isn’t nearly as hard as flipping burgers.” Sam gave his brother a snort, then rolled his sleeves up over his forearms and elbows, exposing the bulge of his tanned biceps. “But you’re welcome to tag along if you like, Polly.”
All eyes fixed on her just in time to catch her stealing an admiring glance at Sam’s strong arms.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She quickly looked away and cleared her throat, trying to match her tone to the light banter between the brothers. “It might not seem proper, the new schoolmarm going off into the pumpkin patch with a man and his little red wagon.”
As soon as the words left her lips it struck her that they might sound more flirtatious than funny, more so when she scanned the amused expressions of the people around her. One of whom—Max, Gina, one or all of the triplets—might have seen her and Sam kissing in the upstairs hallway not all that long ago! Polly started to explain, couldn’t find the words and so sank down to sit on the edge of one of the picnic benches on the patio, hoping it looked as if she meant to do so.
“Smart girl.” Max started to head toward her with his hand out to guide her to the barbecue area. “Better to stay where there are plenty of chaperones.”
“Or take your own along,” Gina called out. “Take Donut.”
The dog’s whole body wriggled at the sound of the name. In a heartbeat he slipped away from Polly’s grasp and ran right up to Sam, who dropped down on one knee to stop him.
Caroline rushed up and tugged at Polly’s hand to get the teacher on her feet again. “You said I could take care of Donut today, so can I go, too?”
Polly staggered a step with Caroline pulling her, then paused and gathered enough composure to walk over to Sam. “What do you think?”
Sam hesitated.
Polly gazed down at him on bended knee before her for a moment longer than she probably should have before she realized everyone was watching. She leaned down then to grab up the dog’s leash again, using that movement to whisper to Sam, “I just got off the phone with Ted Perry’s neighbor. She wants me to return the dog tomorrow.”
Sam pulled back and met her gaze.
Polly didn’t want to look him in the eyes. She wasn’t ready, and she knew his gaze would reveal how disappointed this turn of events made her feel.
He stood up and gave her hand a squeeze before turning to take up the wagon handle again and starting off. After only a couple of steps, he looked back at Polly and Caroline. “Well? What are you waiting for?” He motioned for them to follow him. “Let’s go.”
Polly went along, promising the other triplets she’d make time for them later. She launched into a conversation with Sam that began loudly enough for everyone to hear it was purely platonic. “So, I have yet to hear a serious explanation of this ‘Pumpkin Jump’ deal. What is it exactly? Do you have a contest to see who can jump over the most pumpkins in a row? Or one by one like leapfrog? Or is it more like pole-vaulting to see who can clear the largest pumpkin?”
Caroline giggled at the empty chatter and ran ahead down the path away from the house.
“No, no and no.” Sam laughed and shook his head.
Gradually the farmhouse grew smaller behind them and the long rows of vines and pumpkins surrounded by long, low stone walls came into view.
Polly stopped to take in the sight for a moment, her thoughts filled with the words of Ecclesiastes. To everything there is a season…
For a split second it all seemed right again. Just for now she had friends and Donut and the beauty of a day with them when the sun was low and the shadows long and she didn’t have to rush anywhere or compete for anything. “This is just like I imagined it would be.”
“You imagined our farm?” Sam stopped to turn back to face Polly.
Caroline took advantage of that to load Donut into the wagon and hop in beside him herself.
“I imagined my life,” she corrected, her heart halfway between nostalgia over her naïveté and shyness at revealing something so personal. “When my parents split up and I never seemed to be able to keep up with all their activities and expectations, I imagined there was a place where seeds were planted and nurtured and simply allowed to grow into what they were meant to be.”
“Are you talking about people or pumpkins?” Caroline asked, clearly not sure what Polly was driving at.
“Both. That is, I’m taking about how in the years after my family moved away from Baconburg, I couldn’t help remembering it as a place where people moved at their own pace.” She raised her head slightly to find Sam and Caroline, and even Donut, staring at her. Heat rose in her cheeks. She hooked her thumbs in her belt loops and gave a one-sided shrug. “And when the time came those people weren’t afraid to jump over a few pumpkins!”
“Leaves!” Caroline shouted even as she laughed at Polly turning her heartfelt vision into an act to keep from feeling she’d revealed too much.
“What?” Polly cocked her head. “You want me to leave?”
“Leaves. You know, that change color and fall from the trees every autumn?” The golden rays of sun highlighted the crinkles around Sam’s smiling eyes as he held open the wooden gate in the wall for her. “We rake up all the leaves around here and haul them into huge piles in the yard. That’s what we jump into.”
“We?” she asked as she moved past Sam through the opening, so close that the sleeve of her lightweight summer sweater brushed the pearl buttons of his cotton shirt. “You jump in piles of leaves? I’d like to see that.”
“Me, too,” Caroline announced. Obviously impatient with not going anywhere, the pint-size redhead jumped out, grabbed the leash and pushed her way between the two of them with Donut in tow. “Only Daddy hasn’t done it since back when Mommy got sick. Us girls don’t even remember it.”
Sam’s whole body tensed.
Polly sank her teeth into her lower lip to keep from impulsively blurting out an observation about the ruined hat, the ridiculous rules or what price he might be paying for pushing his kids to move on before they were ready. Just before she joined Caroline and Donut on the quest for the best-looking pumpkins, she said, “To everything there is a season, Sam. You can’t make Caroline bloom on your schedule any more than you can make these pumpkin vines produce on cue.”
Chapter Twelve
“Actually you can force a flower to bloom and affect the growth of crops. That’s how they get those monster pumpkins.” Sam winced at how childi
sh he sounded. He had known what Polly meant. The fact that he fully understood it was probably the very reason he reacted as he did.
To his relief Polly had already hurried along after Caroline and Donut. She didn’t seem to have heard his argumentative tone as she tipped her head to one side to listen intently to his daughter, who had stopped to admire a lopsided, squatty pumpkin. They made a nice scene standing there in the fields of this farm that he loved. Polly looked good here, looked right.
The little dog leaped about and barked, and suddenly Sam couldn’t help thinking how the girls would react to the news of Donut going away. He gripped the cold metal handle of the wagon. Maybe if things were different. But Sam knew that unlike Polly he did not have the luxury of imagining a world the way he wished it could be and then running off to try to re-create it. He had to deal with the realities of three little girls who had already lost too much and could not afford to lose anything else.
“Let’s get this over with. Just point out the ones you want and I’ll load ’em in the wagon.” Sam reached them in a few long strides and parked the wagon. The handle fell into the dirt with a clatter and a clank. “Gina said we need at least three, but I think six this size will fit.”
“Uh-uh.” Caroline waved her hand through the air and took off running down the row. Donut bounded along behind her with his ears flapping and his leash flying.
“Uh-uh?” He looked to Polly for a translation.
“She says it’s too…” Polly crinkled up her adorable nose, pursed her lips, then puffed out her cheeks.
“Too…” Sam tried his best to imitate the face Polly had just made.
Polly burst out laughing at his attempt, then shook her head. “She says she’ll know what she wants when she sees it.”
Sam tipped his head back and groaned. “We may be out here until dusk.”
“Are we in a time crunch?”
I am, he wanted to say. I can’t spend any longer here with you than is necessary because you and Donut are not a part of our future.