Tumbleweeds by Leila Meacham

“Trey, go right now to your room and do your homework.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Trey said.
    “And don’t you dare slam your door.”
    “No, ma’am.”
    John said, “I’ll be sure and tell Cathy you got the pup for her, Trey.”
    “Tell her I hope she likes it,” he said, and shuffled off down the hall. They heard his bedroom door close softly.
    John said, straight-faced, “I thought he took that pretty well.”
    “Didn’t he though?” Mabel said.
    John held the box on his lap while Mabel drove the few blocks to Emma Benson’s house. It would be just a matter of time before Trey showed up and horned in—after his aunt had left Miss Emma’s, of course—but he, John, would be the first to see Cathy’s face when she saw the collie puppy. Next to her, he was the cutest thing John had ever seen. The puppy was asleep now and dreaming, and John could picture the dog’s little pink nose nuzzled against Cathy’s soft cheek and her eyes closed in bliss from the velvety feel of him, like girls do. He felt a pang of betrayal for being glad that Trey wouldn’t have first crack at Cathy’s gratitude and sorrow for Aunt Mabel’s disappointment if she checked on Trey when she got home and found him missing. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe her trust in him would protect her.
    Emma opened the front door before they could knock. “I told Cathy about the puppy,” she announced, standing back so they could hurry inside. “That got her on her feet fast. I can’t thank you enough, John.”
    “It was Trey’s idea to get her a puppy, Miss Emma.”
    “He’ll be thanked properly when the time comes. How did he take his punishment, Mabel?”
    “Very well, actually. He realized he’d overstepped the line thistime. I punished him as you advised—denied him the opportunity to present the puppy in person—and now he’s in his room, where he will remain until the morning.”
    “Uh-huh,” Emma said. She patted her friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m proud of you for standing your ground, Mabel. Now, let’s have you come meet my granddaughter and Cathy her new companion. She’s in the kitchen, stirring the stew. John, you’ll stay for supper, of course.” She whisked off his ski cap and hung it on a hall tree in the foyer. Neither saw Mabel’s lips curve in a small, private smile.
    John was sure his hair was standing straight up. Because of the box, he couldn’t comb it back in place with his fingers and hoped by some miracle Cathy wouldn’t notice. She didn’t. She appeared not to see him at all when she turned from the stove, her tender face flushed from heat and the anticipation of what he had brought. She went directly to peer into the box, and John took advantage of the moment to check his reflection in the darkened kitchen window over the sink, nearly choking on his breath when he saw Trey’s face staring in. It dropped from view the second his aunt turned to thump his back.
    “You okay, John?”
    “Fine, just fine, Aunt Mabel. My windpipe got blocked there for a second.”
    “Ohhhh…,”Cathy cooed, lifting the little ball of fur from his bedding and cuddling him under her chin, every detail of her delight perfectly matching the picture John’s imagination had drawn.
    Emma looked approvingly at John. “A good move, mister. Pass on my compliments to your sidekick.”
    “He’s so soft and warm,” Cathy purred, and kissed the tiny head. “Is he really mine, Grandmother? Mine to keep?”
    “Yours to keep,” Emma said.
    “I’ve never had a pet before. He’s just… he’s just beautiful.”
    “Is it all right that he’s a boy?” John asked, watching her worriedly. “We didn’t know…”
    “It’s perfect that he’s a boy.” Her gaze swept up to John curiously, and his heart pinched at the definite impression she’d noticed him for the first time. “Where
is
your sidekick?”
    “He’s doing his homework,” Mabel said, “but I know he’ll be delighted that you like the puppy. I’m Mabel