to stare so he elaborated. “Actually, I’ve gotten several educations since I first enrolled right out of high school. I don’t have plans to leave anytime soon, even though Miss Nancy has tried to kick me out into the real world on more occasions than you can shake a stick at. My brothers call me a professional student, and at this point it’s useless for me to deny it.”
“So you’re a student and not a parent? That’s cool,” she said. Her smile and the tilt of her head said she was interested in his story.
“Finally!” He exaggerated the word. “Somebody who appreciates the idea that higher education isn’t just what kids do while they wait for the best job or the right mate to come along.”
“I’d enjoy hearing more, but I’ve got to finish completing these forms and get over to our apartment before the girls get home.”
“Do you need any help? I know my way around a class registration fairly well by now. What is your daughter interested in studying? The curriculum is a bit limited during the summer sessions.”
Sarah’s smile was back. She relaxed against the folding chair and dropped her pencil on the form.
“I suppose I had that coming.”
“What?” Cullen was confused.
“My oldest daughter is only thirteen and the primary subject that interests her is the ever threatening world of zombies and vampires.”
Embarrassment warmed Cullen’s neck. Assuming a woman was old enough to have a kid in college was up there with assuming a lady’s rounded figure meant she was pregnant.
“I’m sorry.” He struggled to apologize. “I didn’t mean to insinuate you were old. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being old, you’re just not that old.”
She held a palm outward to stop the flow of words.
“I’m not insulted. Really, I’m not. I made the same assumption about you. What do you say we call it even?”
“It’s a deal.” Cullen extended his hand and he was very grateful when she accepted his shake and his apology.
* * *
SARAH CAUGHT THE gleam in Cullen’s eye and the spark in his touch. For the first time in the three years since Joe’s death, physical contact with a man had made her insides quiver. She’d figured that magical sensation was gone forever.
“So, whose application are you filling out, if I may be bold enough to ask?” He tucked his chin to his chest in a gun-shy but teasing posture.
It’s for me,” Sarah answered softly, still afraid to admit it out loud.
“Beg pardon?”
“Me!” she insisted more boldly. “The application is for me.”
He stared at her with eyes the color of wet slate. The man was a ringer for that famous British soccer player who’d moved with his Spice Girl wife from London to Beverly Hills. Sarah’s seven-year-old could probably recite their names, but there was zero allowance for pop culture in a single mother’s life. Bearing the load alone was heavy, but not more than she could manage.
During the last moments of her husband’s battle with leukemia, she’d held Joe in her arms and encouraged him to let go of this life, promising him that their girls would be okay. And that was mostly true. Today Carrie, Meg and Hope had what they needed, they just didn’t have who they needed. And now Sarah was going to spend more hours away from them to finish the degree that had once meant so much to her. Some people would say her plan was selfish, but her employer had offered to pay the tuition—how could a widow turn that down?
“I’m going to complete my undergraduate.”
“That’s wonderful,” Cullen said encouragingly.
“Really? You don’t think I’m a bit...mature?”
He held his arms out in a “look at me” posture.
“Sarah, now that we’ve taken turns accusing each other of being over the hill, my guess is we’re probably about the same age. Ninety percent of the people on this campus expect that I’m a teacher because I’ve been studying here for so long. But trust me when I say I’m not the only individual over thirty—or even forty—who’s sitting on the observation side of the lectern. We actually have a sophomore in her seventies named Ruthie George. After Ruthie’s husband passed away, she decided to get her master’s.”
“Good for her,” Sarah said, voicing her approval over the older woman’s decision to keep moving forward with her life.
But Ruthie had probably shared many decades with her husband, while Sarah had been cheated of so many precious years. Life had short-changed her young family and her heart would forever bear a tender bruise from the loss.
Somehow life went on, the girls outgrew their shoes and Sarah outgrew her fears. She’d put one foot in front of the other and pressed ahead for the sake of her daughters. And if she wanted to advance any further with the law firm and get her paralegal licensing, she had to complete her education.
“I think I’d enjoy meeting Ruthie. She sounds like a role model I could use in my circle of friends right now.”
Sarah was grateful for her mother’s unfailing help with the girls, but Margaret Callaghan had never had professional ambitions, and she’d never worked outside their family home.
“Ruthie says that it’s her time to fly,” Cullen explained. “For fifty years she put her family before her education and now that she’s alone again, she’s going to do whatever it takes to fulfill the dream she put on hold the moment her first child was born.”
“Your friend and I have a lot in common, in spite of our thirty-year-age difference.”
“You’ve been a stay-at-home mom, too?”
“Only when the girls were little. As soon as my youngest was out of diapers I went to work with a law firm. But now, if I want to advance any further I have to get my paralegal certification. I can’t do that without an undergraduate degree, and since they’re willing to pay for it, here I am.”
There was a ruckus a few tables away as young people who were playing cards broke into laughter. Sarah supposed there had been a day when she’d been so carefree but it had been so long ago it was nothing more than a distant memory. Their smiling faces reminded her of her daughters and she glanced at the wall clock above the exit door.
“Let me get out of here so you can finish.” Cullen gathered up the bits of trash from their coffee and swept the table clean with a napkin. “I’m sorry I interrupted your efforts,” he apologized.
“I don’t mean to run you off, but I have to get this to your Miss Nancy before the office closes.”
“By next week she’ll be your Miss Nancy, too.”
“Oh, gosh, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“There are probably a lot of things you haven’t thought of yet. When you want a class recommendation or even a cup of coffee with your new friend, Cullen Temple, just give me a holler.”
