Dara led Paul and Dylan to the darkened cafeteria and triggered just the kitchen's emergency lighting. All the other schoolchildren had been dropped off at their respective homes and the bus driver sent on his way.
Normally the entire lunchroom was brightly lit, encouraging in the children a sense of positive energy that would stimulate them to enjoy each day's meals. It felt a little strange for Dara to have it be silent and still. "Have a seat. Your father is on his way." She decided to add to their obvious discomfort. "He suggested that you might want to polish up your stories regarding this little escapade."
The two little boys immediately put their heads together and began to murmur something indecipherable to one another. Dara marveled again at just how bonded the two seemed to be. It must have been devastating for their little family group when Paul's mother died, Dara reflected. It was fortunate for both Paul and Dylan that their bond had formed so solidly, allowing them to support and comfort one another.
Dara glanced out of the cafeteria window. It was located high above the heads of both students and faculty but still let in a considerable amount of natural light during the school day. Spotting the approach of the doctor's headlights in the growing darkness would not be a difficult thing to do.
"When you spoke to him, did Doctor- I mean, Dad, seem really upset?" Paul considered Dara with eyes that seemed much older than his eight years.
"I don't really know your father well enough to judge," the teacher replied. "Is what you did deserving of him being angry?"
Dylan shrugged. "I certainly don't think so."
Dara bit back a smile. While both boys were charming and engaging, there was an endearing nonchalance about Dylan that amused her. "Well," Dara nodded toward the window, "it looks like your father is here. I suppose we'll all discover his mood soon enough." She fixed both boys with her sternest glare. "Sit. And don't move. I'm going to go and let your father in."
Dara peered out of the cafeteria's locked side exit. "Yes?"
A precise, cultured male voice replied. "It's Mitchell Cartwright. I'm here to retrieve my two wayward boys." A laminated photo identification badge from something called Project Genesis was pressed against the narrow glass pane.
"Doctor Cartwright, come on in." Dara stepped aside to allow him entrance. "Paul and Dylan are waiting for you in the school kitchen."
The harsh glare of the kitchen light could not diminish the handsomeness of the boys' father. Dara began to see where Dylan's keen features came from. Easily six feet tall, Mitchell Cartwright was blond with a neat mustache and five o'clock shadow caressing his jawline. "I'm Dara Hickley," the elementary teacher offered. "I called you about Paul and Dylan."
"Yes, thank you for that." The doctor did not even glance the two boys' way. It did not matter. They were already busy not looking in the doctor's direction. "There's no telling what other bad decisions they might have made on their own if you hadn't."
"In our defense-"
The withering glance the doctor gave Dylan silenced the young boy without another word. "You'll have your chance to present your defense when we get home," Mitchell said through clenched teeth. "Trust me."
Dara did not want to interfere in the doctor's discipline of his sons but she could not help but champion the two boys. As a teacher, she had seen children who fell into the category of 'bad kids'. Paul and Dylan were not among those numbers.
"May I speak with you privately?" Dara did not wait on Mitchell's compliance but instead crossed the cafeteria until they were out of earshot of the two boys. "Dylan told me about your wife's passing," Dara said. "I'm sorry for your loss. But I think that maybe Paul and Dylan are feeling a bit lost themselves." She glanced at the laminated Genesis Project badge now clipped to the doctor's shirt pocket. "They tell me your work keeps you rather busy. It wasn't a complaint, mind you," Dara hastened to add. "Dylan seemed rather proud of the work you do."
"The work that I do?"
Dara fought -and lost- the battle not to smile. "Yes. I believe the official job title he gave me was 'Mad Scientist'. I would imagine that building human beings from scratch is a pretty time-consuming endeavor," she teased.
"It is if you want to do it right." Mitchell's mouth quirked into a little half-smile that drew Dara's gaze straight to his lips. She quickly reminded herself that the doctor was still in mourning for his wife.
Dara pulled her gaze away from the unexpected attraction and found Mitchell eyeing her with his head cocked to one side. Any of his colleagues, upon seeing the gesture, would have recognized it as the scientist's attempt to decipher the subject before him. "Not that I am ungrateful, but are you this involved with all your children, Miss Hickley?"
"Yes," Dara replied honestly. "But I have a particular fondness for those who hitch unauthorized rides on trips that I am supervising." Her smile took the bite out of her reminder of the two boys' offense. "Doctor Cartwright, your boys are charming rascals. And I think they know it. Despite the circumstances, I have enjoyed meeting them. And you."
"Dad?" Paul's soft voice preempted Mitchell's response. "Do you think we can go home now? It's been a really long day and Dylan's getting tired. Fast."
"Of course. You're right. It has been a long day." Mitchell turned back to Dara. "Thank you again for your help with these guys, Dara Hickley. I can guarantee you they won't show up on any more of your class outings."
Dara took the warm hand Mitchell extended. "You are welcome, Mitchell Cartwright. It was very nice to meet you." She glanced pointedly at her hand, which the doctor still held.
"Come on," Mitchell tugged her hand lightly. Both boys groaned. "We're going to walk you to your car before we leave."
