by Mae Nunn
Cullen pressed the off key on the portable phone and tossed it to the end of the sofa. He reached for Rocket with both hands, gathered the pup’s warm body to his chest and buried his face in the silky softness that smelled of kibbles and rawhide chews.
The house was silent except for the low hum of the cable television in the kitchen. All was quiet and calm.
Just the way his life had to stay if he expected to keep his PTSD under control.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“FOLKS, I ALWAYS try to hang around after class to take your questions. However, as I mentioned earlier, I have a commitment tonight so forgive me if I slip out during the video. Make notes and we’ll talk about the film on Thursday.”
Sarah watched Cullen signal the guy in the A/V booth to start the DVD. It was a documentary on the reign of Charlemagne that she’d unearthed for him last week in the resource library.
Funny that he hadn’t mentioned anything to her about leaving early, but then she’d arrived a few minutes late for Cullen’s lecture and he hadn’t had a chance to speak to her privately. But neither had he acknowledged her apologetic wave when she’d taken her usual seat by the aisle. Could he possibly be angry over her tardiness? He was the teacher, after all, and had every right to expect the students in his class to arrive on time. She made a mental note to be early for the next lecture and bring him a shiny apple to make him smile.
“Dr. Temple seems a little under the weather,” the young woman who often occupied the next seat whispered to Sarah. “Almost like that first night when he bombed.” The cute brunette with the pierced eyebrow, whose name was Kimmy, snickered at the memory.
Sarah scrutinized him more closely and noticed Cullen’s cheeks were flushed. He was either irritated or feverish, but either way he seemed distracted as Kimmy had noted. Maybe he wasn’t well. That could explain why he hadn’t glanced her way all evening.
And now he was leaving without a word, without a note. She reached into the side pocket of her purse for her cell to check for a text.
Nothing.
“Did he mention why he had to hurry off?” Sarah quizzed the student.
She felt silly, probing a college kid for information like they were two schoolgirls riding the bus together.
“No, ma’am.”
Sarah winced at being called ma’am in this setting. Clearly they were not peers from Kimmy’s perspective; they were one young schoolgirl and one almost forty-year-old widow.
“I’ve already watched this video so I’m going to slip out, too. See you Thursday.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kimmy continued to show the proper respect for her elder, as any young lady reared in Texas should.
Sarah gathered her belongings and moved quietly toward the exit as the story of the medieval European emperor began to unfold on the jumbo screen.
The door closed softly behind her as she stepped into the quiet hallway. She glanced left and right for some sign of Cullen, but the corridor was deserted. She felt her phone vibrate through the side pocket of her purse and she smiled as she touched the screen without bothering to check the caller ID.
“You caught me ducking out on the DVD,” she confessed, expecting Cullen to be on the line.
“That’s a relief,” her mother answered. “I didn’t expect you to answer.”
“Is something wrong, Mom?”
“Carrie’s been in the bathroom most of the evening and she’s more surly than usual. I’m guessing she’s experiencing womanhood issues.”
“Oh, I meant to warn you she’s PMSing big-time and I suspected this was coming. She’s prepared, and we’ve discussed it thoroughly, but it’s still new territory.”
“Well, I recognized the signs so I’ve kept the other two busy so she could have her privacy. Is it okay if I give her a couple aspirin?”
“Hold off, Mom. I’m leaving the campus now and I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I hate for you to leave early.”
“I was headed to the car, anyway. The class is watching a film I’ve already seen so I’m not missing anything important.”
“Cullen won’t mind?”
“Actually, Cullen mentioned he had someplace to be and he’s been gone for a few minutes himself.”
“Then we’ll expect you shortly.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Sarah immediately remembered Kimmy saying the same thing and wondered if the girl thought it was odd that a woman older than the teacher was in a sophomore lecture class. In spite of Cullen’s efforts to draw her into the college atmosphere, Sarah was little more than a visitor on the campus where he was completely at home. Maybe she’d never have the ease he had with the kids who were two decades younger.
But what should that matter? She was only here for the short-term, while Cullen was in it for the long haul. Her goals were very different from his, and in that respect they had little in common. She wondered again if there was any future in their relationship. Saturday night would be a perfect litmus test for whether or not they could move to the dating level or should simply remain friends.
The quiver in her stomach confirmed she was hoping for the former, but something in Cullen’s odd behavior tonight said he may be regretting inviting her out for dinner.
The headlights on her sedan flashed as she clicked the door locks open and she also had a flash of insight. Saturday night she’d steer clear of relationship issues. Maybe she’d guide the conversation to the family history her mother had mentioned and keep Cullen on familiar ground.
That’s what she’d do, keep it light. Stay away from the constant narration of single parenthood. She could hardly blame him if he was tiring of her circumstances. But if that was the case, shouldn’t she find out now and not mask the situation with empty chatter designed to distract him from the truth of her life?
“It shouldn’t have to be this complicated,” she muttered as she shifted into drive and headed for her mother’s house and the demands waiting for her there.
* * *
CULLEN SAT BEHIND the wheel of his SUV and watched Sarah’s sensible family sedan pull out of the student parking lot. He’d lied so he’d have a reason to leave class without talking to her. She hadn’t even been there when he’d set up the excuse, announcing he had something important to do and couldn’t hang around as usual. Then she’d taken her seat and his mind had gone blank. Whether the cause was her nearness or the lie, it didn’t matter. The rush of blood to his brain had caused a pounding headache and now he was truly glad he was free to go home and climb under the covers with Rocket.
Her vehicle was out of sight but Cullen remained beneath the dark coverage of the live oak trees, letting the engine idle before he hightailed it to the house like a coward. Some role model you are, Dr. Temple. Lying, sneaking away, hiding in the shadows, running in the opposite direction, and from whom?
Sarah. Undoubtedly the bravest woman he’d ever met. Beautiful in every possible way.
“So why are you acting like a fool, Temple?”
He could imagine his mentor posing the question.
And Cullen should be smart enough to figure out the answer. He was deliberate by nature. He rarely did anything without researching it to death first. So when Sarah had said it was best for her girls if she pulled away from their friendship, why had he rashly insisted that they make a date? He should have accepted her wisdom, trusted she was making the right decision for her family.
But nooo, he couldn’t leave well enough alone―he had to force the issue and give dating a go. And in response his gut had become a roiling mess. And it was only Tuesday! He had to make it through the week and another night of class on Thursday before they could get this relationship experiment over with and he could score himself a big fat F on the exam.
He rested his throbbing head on the steering wheel, sucked deep
breaths in through his nose and let the air whoosh past his lips. It was a relaxation technique he’d learned years ago when he’d realized clenching his fists and holding his breath only made the attacks worse.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered into the dashboard. “It was only after we made our plans that I began to have second thoughts and get panicky. I was doing great while Sarah and I were talking on the phone, sure of myself and of her. So why now do I worry that the situation might spin out of control?
“All I have to do is ease up, go with the flow and accept the things I cannot change,” he quoted his old mantra, and took more cleansing breaths.
The words he spoke aloud swarmed in the Explorer around his head. Ease up. Go with the flow. Accept the things I cannot change. A man with his IQ and credentials should be able to do those things, shouldn’t he? And a family of females was not exactly Homer’s sirens, calling him to crash into the cliffs, were they?
Cullen needed answers to his rhetorical questions, a sounding board, impartial guidance.
He glanced at his wristwatch. Rome was seven hours ahead. Blair and Ailean had always been night owls but it was late even by their standards. Hopefully Blair wouldn’t mind a wakeup call from his protégé. At least it was only to ask for advice and not cash for beer or bail.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CULLEN’S FIRST DATE in high school had been a disaster. He’d shown up early and been made to wait in the living room while Tammy Sue Lancer’s daddy grilled him like a steak over hot coals. Then his car had run out of gas, which Tammy Sue had insisted through an irritated twist of her lips was the oldest trick in the book.
Some trick—he’d sweated through his dress shirt while he’d tramped eight blocks to the Exxon station and back again, the can of gas sloshing on his trendy, acid-washed jeans when he poured it into the tank. Tammy Sue kept her distance the rest of the evening, leaning away from him at the Wagon Wheel restaurant and again at the movies. He couldn’t blame her, knowing he smelled of male armpit and unleaded high octane. There was no second date, and blessedly there was no social media back then so the details only spread as far as the baseball field where Cullen took a vicious ribbing from his teammates. And his brothers.
As all historians worth their salt were aware, if we don’t learn from our history we are doomed to repeat it. So on Saturday night, Cullen had made sure the tank was full, he’d dabbed on the expensive cologne he saved for special occasions and he was on schedule to leave his house exactly as planned. Satisfied with his image in the bathroom mirror, he checked his cell for any sign of a cancellation message from Sarah. There was just the one text she’d sent on Thursday afternoon.
“Cullen, I can’t make it to class tonight. Carrie’s been under the weather all week and I should stay home this evening. See you on Saturday.”
Otherwise, they hadn’t spoken all week. It wasn’t as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend and talked on the phone every day, but this was the longest they’d gone without communicating since he and Sarah had met. Cullen told himself she was simply tied up with work and family, but with a woman it was hard to be sure.
When he’d woken Blair and Ailean on Tuesday night, after assuring them nobody had died, Cullen confessed he was in need of relationship counseling. Blair had advised him to take a chill pill but not before he’d laughed at Cullen’s worries. Laughed! A man cries out for help in the middle of the night and instead of showing grave concern, his mentor thinks it’s a hoot.
But to Ailean’s credit, she suggested he dig through the boxes of books they’d left behind and find a psychology text she highly recommended that focused on blended family dynamics.
“Treat this the same way you do everything else, Cullen. Study the subject, analyze the facts, apply what’s useful and document your findings. But by all means, ignore what Blair said. He’s a Neanderthal, and being this close to the source of his ancestry has him reverting to his genetic roots.”
Cullen had gone to bed that night grateful for Ailean’s guidance. It fit in with the class he was going to take and his own thoughts when he’d first met Sarah’s family.
And given Blair’s reaction he was doubly glad he hadn’t called any of his brothers for advice. They wouldn’t be able to relate to his circumstances. Hunt was still goggle-eyed over his engagement to Gillian, Joiner was busy searching for some ranch property to call his own and Mac was planning a trip overseas to take a break from his business for a while.
Cullen could trust his brothers with his life without question. But his love life was another matter altogether.
He hadn’t confided in Alma, either. She was too crazy about Sarah and her girls to be impartial, and women always seemed to stick together. In this situation Cullen was on his own.
Alone in no-man’s-land. A barren and frightening place, a minefield of emotion.
He burst into laughter. Maybe tomorrow after church he’d pick up one of those romance novels Alma was always reading. He could use something touchy-feely to counter the effects of studying thousands of years of war on planet Earth. Or better yet, he’d invest a couple of hours into reading up on blended families and ways to relate with stepchildren.
Yep, tomorrow he’d get comfortable under the pool umbrella and make some notes from Ailean’s psychology text, and maybe later in the afternoon he’d invite Sarah and the girls to come for a swim.
Whoa, Temple! First things first. Get through this evening before you start making new plans.
His daddy used to say, “Son, tomorrow has enough worries of its own, so don’t get a jump on it tonight.”
* * *
“HE’S HEEEEEERE,” HER girls singsonged in a silly chorus. Three pairs of flip-flops beat a path to the door.
Sarah was in her bedroom applying lip gloss for the third time in an effort to keep her shaking hands busy. She glanced toward her bedside clock and smiled at his punctuality.
Her gaze moved to rest on a family photo, their last before Joe’s decline began. His left arm was around Sarah’s shoulders, a protective shield from the cares of the world. His right hand cupped Carrie’s elbow, Hope perched on his lap and Meg wedged between her parents, squeezing close to her daddy. The girls framed Joe perfectly, as if unconsciously closing ranks against the disease that lay dormant in his body.
Sarah wondered if her daughters noticed the same photo and remembered their daddy full of life instead of the way he’d become at the end, thin and frail, every breath a struggle. She stayed clear of reminders of his illness for fear of robbing them of the sweet memories. One day they’d bring it up, when they were ready, and together they’d deal with it.
But today, she was dealing with a new chapter in her life and the girls seemed to approve. Especially since the two younger ones had already given their blessing to a wedding. Now Carrie, she would be a tougher nut to crack, but if things ever progressed that far, Sarah hoped she could count on her oldest child to be supportive. Since the day Sarah had come home from work and neither fainted nor pitched a fit when she’d found her thirteen-year-old with purple hair, Carrie had been amazingly cooperative.
Would Carrie be so agreeable if Cullen was still around when the hair dye had washed out?
“Mama, Cullen brought you flowers!” Hope called.
“They’re the kind that drop pollen all over the place,” Meg pointed out. “I hope my summer allergies don’t flare up.”
Sarah stepped into the cluttered family room to find Cullen clutching a bunch of orange and yellow lilies wrapped in green florist’s paper. He grinned sheepishly and held them out like a peace offering. Maybe she hadn’t imagined that he’d been avoiding her this week, after all.
“Thank you, sir. They’re lovely.” Sarah accepted the large bouquet and headed to the kitchen. “Give me a minute to put them in water.”
The lilies would be amazing in the cr
ystal vase she’d been given as a wedding gift, but it was in storage with most of their household items. She searched the cabinets for a suitable alternative and came up with a huge jar that had once held a year’s supply of pickles from the warehouse store.
“It’s not Waterford but it’ll do the trick,” she apologized as she set the arrangement on their dining room table, which was strewn with puzzles and macaroni crafts.
“What a thoughtful thing to do,” Sarah murmured as she accepted his side hug.
“I’m glad I got the chance to see the girls. I assumed they’d already be at Alma’s house.”
She caught his unasked question about why the three were still at the apartment.
“Nana Alma’s coming here tonight,” Hope announced.
“Do you mind if we wait a bit, Cullen? She phoned a few minutes ago to say she was on her way.”
“And she’s bringing a surprise for dinner,” Meg added.
“For your sake, I hope it’s not some of Felix’s hog’s head cheese, or that year-old fruit cake she’s always trying to get rid of.” Cullen made a face and fake shuddered.
The girls grimaced and then giggled. Having already sampled Alma’s cooking, they knew better than to fall for Cullen’s joke.
“And she’s going to teach them to make tortillas from scratch.”
Cullen shielded his response to Sarah behind his hand as if to hide it from the girls.
“Even wrapped in Alma’s homemade tortillas that head cheese is still nasty.”
Sarah socked him on the shoulder.
“Stop that, Cullen, or they’ll believe you.”
“Just in case, how about bringing us some dessert?” Carrie asked. “I read a review online and it said the Cowboy Chef’s cheesecake is to die for.”
“Yes! Cheesecake!” Hope and Meg cheered in agreement.
“That’s a tall order, but I’m familiar with the restaurant owner so I believe I can swing a to-go box,” Cullen assured the girls.
A knock at the door announced Alma’s arrival. After hugs all around and Alma’s observation that Cullen smelled nice for a change, he swept Sarah out of the apartment and away from the concerns of her life for a few hours.