Inflamed: A Love Letters Novel

by Kristen Blakely

  Ten minutes later, Sean pounded on Debra’s door. She opened the door and stared at him, her eyes swollen and red. Her glance flicked to the cluster of people behind him. He grinned. “If you don’t have enough cake for everyone, I can run to the store.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I…” A smile—dazzling, beautiful—spread across her face. “There’s a lot of cake. Come in, please.”

  “Where’s Aidan?”

  “Out back.”

  Sean headed out through the backdoor, allowing it to slam shut on the murmur of conversations as families gathered around the table, rearranging plates to accommodate the additional food.

  Aidan squatted at the far corner of the garden, plucking dry blades of grass. He looked up at Sean and then looked away.

  “Hey, buddy.”

  “Where’s Jewel?”

  “At home. She gets too excitable in crowds; you know that.”

  Aidan snorted. “Ain’t no crowd here.”

  “It’s pretty crowded around the table. You won’t get any cake if you hang out here.”

  Aidan shook his head. “No one came.” His voice cracked.

  “Lots of people came. The ones who care about you came. They’re just not the people you expected.”

  “People came?” Aidan looked past Sean’s shoulder. He could probably make out the shapes of people moving through the house. “They came for me?”

  “You’re missing the party. Come on.” Sean held an arm out to Aidan until the boy came over to him. He made no mention of Aidan’s moist eyes. With a friendly pat on Aidan’s back, he ushered the boy in through the door.

  “And there’s the birthday boy!” Patti’s voice rose above the lively conversations. Applause broke out. “Happy birthday, Aidan.” Multiple voices took up the chorus, filling the room with the familiar tune of the happy birthday song.

  Sean stood beside Aidan, feeling the subtle tremble of the boy’s body against his. He hoped it was the quiver of happiness, and when he looked up and met Debra’s eyes and saw the smile of gratitude on her face, he knew it was.

  Aidan’s birthday party lasted two hours longer than anticipated, and ended in the early evening when Jack and Hank returned from their surreptitious visit to the toy store with a new bike for Aidan. The party dissolved as the children darted home for their own bikes so that they could roam the neighborhood with Aidan. The plates were cleared and guests went home with leftovers. Patti was the last to leave, but she offered Debra a warm smile as she said goodbye.

  “We didn’t get a chance to talk about the catering, but I’m very interested. The sample meal you sent around last night was amazing. I’d like to tweak the menu a bit. How about you call me tomorrow when you get a chance, and we can chat?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll call you.” Debra’s grin widened and stayed in place as she closed the door on the last of her guests. She turned to Sean. “Did you hear that?”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your first customer.”

  “It’ll be a large party. Twenty guests, buffet-style, but she wants it elegant with appetizers served ahead of time while the guests mingle. It’s going to be fantastic.” She paused. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

  “No, it’s great. I want to hear what you’ve planned.” He glanced around the house. “Since you’ve been eaten—almost literally—out of your home, how about I take you out to dinner?”

  “But Aidan—”

  “He’s out with Jack’s kids. I’ll let Jack know where we’re going, and he can bring Aidan by wherever we are when the kids are done cycling.”

  “I’m sure I can scrounge up something for dinner.”

  “You probably could. You’re a marvel in the kitchen, but I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

  She stared up at him, her heart in her throat. “Are you asking me out?”

  He nodded.

  “On a date?”

  He nodded again.

  “I don’t know if I’m…too old for you.”

  He laughed. “Are you getting hung up on the fact that you were seven years old when I was born?”

  No, more on the fact that you’re twenty-five. The same age Peter was when he…when we screwed up. She managed a tight smile. “I just think you’re—”

  “Young?” He raised his eyebrows. “Physically, yes, but I feel like I’ve lived through a great deal. I’m not young in here.” He touched his forehead. “Or here.” His hand went to his heart. “Besides, maybe I’m ready for a mature woman with little drama.”

  Debra laughed. “Have you been sleepwalking through the past two weeks? My life is nothing but drama.”

  “Good drama with happy endings.”

  She tilted her head and stared at him. His words plucked at her heartstrings. “Happy endings?”

  “Aidan’s birthday. The launch of your catering business. Those are happy endings, right?”

  Her throat closed, stealing her breath. He was right. Those were happy endings. She and Aidan had happy endings, and Sean had played a large role in bringing them about. A smile crept over her face. “Okay. Can you give me five minutes to freshen up?”

  “Sure.”

  She hurried out of the room, sparing a quick glance back to see him sit on the couch and reach for a magazine. In her room, she dashed water over her face and reapplied her makeup. She was reaching for her lipstick when her cell phone rang. Peter.

  She picked it up. “The party just ended.”

  “Well, I’m not going to be able to make it. Something came up at the last minute. I hope Aidan wasn’t too disappointed.”

  “He was, especially when the people he invited didn’t show up either. Sean brought all his friends though, so we had a full house.”

  “Sean?” Peter’s voice lit with interest. “Who’s Sean?”

  She did not bother to elaborate. “Will we see you next week?”

  “You didn’t tell me, who’s Sean?”

  “Why does it matter who Sean is? The only person who should matter to you is Aidan.”

  “Are you dating?”

  Debra released her breath in a sigh. “Let me know if you’re coming down next week to see Aidan.” She disconnected the call and set the phone down. It buzzed again. Peter. She ignored it as she reached for her lipstick and swiped it over her lips. A tired-looking woman stared back at her. A woman who wanted to put her feet up at the end of a long day, except that Sean was waiting for her.

  A smile tugged at Debra’s lips. Her reflection transformed. The lines at the corners of her eyes deepened, but it was from a smile of delight. A tired and happy woman. For the first time in a long time, she knew the difference.

  Debra and Sean had dinner at a tiny seafood bar, famous for its fresh clams and oysters. The soft murmur of conversation from surrounding tables flowed over the jazz music wafting from the speakers. The chefs created their masterpieces, drawing ingredients from the large trays of seafood displayed on beds of ice.

  Debra knew some of the customers by sight—it was hard not to given the small size of Havre de Grace—but no one stared at them. No one seemed particularly surprised to see her with Sean. In a small town, Sean’s daily visits with Jewel might had been hot news two weeks ago, but the nosy folks had since moved on to more current gossip.

  It seemed that the only person who was surprised was her.

  Debra tried to relax. It was not a difficult task in Sean’s company; he was as he had always been—easy-going with a wry sense of humor. Their conversation ranged from Sean’s visit to Aidan’s school on fire safety day to the attractions of Havre de Grace and the surrounding towns.

  “I’ve heard good things about St. Michaels, down by the Chesapeake,” Sean said.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Debra agreed. “I’ve been there only once, but the main street is charming. Just like pictures of Disneyland.”

  “Have you been?”

  “To Disneyland? No, but I’ve seen pictures.”

  “Guess I’ll have to go to St. Michaels, the
n, and see if the pictures match up with my memories of Disneyland.”

  Debra perched her elbow on the table and rested her cheek on the palm of her hand. “When were you at Disneyland?”

  “About five years ago. I went with my older brother and his girlfriend. He’d just been recruited to play for the major leagues and it was supposed to be a celebration.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. An undercurrent of anger surged through his voice, masked beneath a thin layer of self-control.

  Did she know him enough to ask? Debra took a deep breath. “What happened?”

  “Long story. Resulted in my brother and I falling out. We haven’t spoken in five years.”

  Debra’s eyebrows shot up. “Keep it up for another three years, and you’ll beat the record Holly and I set.”

  “Right.” Sean chuckled. His mouth twisted into an ironic smirk. “Lately, I’ve been wondering if my brother might have been right after all.”

  “It’s probably not too late to pick up the phone and call him.”

  “No, I guess not,” Sean said. At that moment, his phone rang a distinctive tune. His hand clenched into a fist. He picked up the phone and pressed a button to send the call straight to voicemail.

  “Is that your brother trying to reach you?” Debra asked.

  “Not my brother,” Sean said. “Just the mistakes of his past. And mine.” The last two words were muttered under his breath.

  Debra reached for her iced tea. “One thing I’ve realized about mistakes is that sometimes they can be remedied by time and perspective. But sometimes, they can’t because there’s nothing wrong with your perspective to begin with.”

  “Like Aidan.”

  Debra nodded. “The mistake that turned out to be a blessing.”

  “And Peter.”

  “The mistake that remains a mistake to this day.”

  “But they’re related.”

  Debra shrugged and laughed. “Life is complicated that way.”

  “So which is mine?”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not on our first date, no.” He managed a tight smile. “I’d rather preserve the illusion that my life is perfectly under control, at least until our second date.”

  “Well, you know my life. Control is mostly wishful thinking.”

  “You never complain.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Aidan tells me things. Other people tell me things. I see things. But you say nothing.”

  “Well, if you’re hearing and seeing all these things, then there’s nothing more to say, right?”

  “Don’t you ever succumb to self-pity? Others do.”

  “I don’t have time. You’ve seen my day. Between the café, my extra hours at the clinic, Aidan, and starting my new business, it’s a good thing breathing is automatic, or I might forget to do it too. Though sometimes, at night, when it’s quiet…” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Sometimes it’s tough at night when I’m alone with my thoughts.”

  “Yeah. I know the feeling,” Sean said. His phone rang again. The same tune. His expression tightened, but he said nothing as he sent the call to voicemail.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to pick it up?” Debra asked.

  “I haven’t picked up for two months now. I’d like to keep it that way until the phone stops ringing.”

  She nodded. “Okay. It’s just that I see you tense every time it rings. If I promise to go out on a second date with you, will you promise to reach out if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone about it?”

  He stared at her. “The more I hang out with you, the more unreal you seem.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re so even-keeled.”

  “It was hard-won, and some days are more difficult than others.”

  “But you keep trying.”

  “Don’t we all?”

  “Some don’t. That’s why I’m glad you do. It’s refreshing being with someone who looks forward instead of staying trapped in the past.”

  “I think children do that for you. They only look forward. It’s hard not to be swept up in their energy and joy. Even Aidan’s.”

  “Aidan’s a great kid. Jewel adores him, of course.”

  “I’m grateful for all the time you’re spending with him. He’s practically a different kid since Jewel. Since you. I wish I could tell you just how much difference you’ve made in two weeks.”

  Sean swallowed hard. He reached across the table and set his hand over hers. The contact tingled. “You can’t possibly understand how much it means to me to hear that. All I ever wanted was to make a difference. I tried. For years, I tried and failed. I felt like a fool.”

  “It’s not your job to fix everything.”

  “Maybe.” His lips twisted again into a bittersweet smirk. “But when it’s family, it’s hard to walk away.”

  “Yes, it is.” She thought of Aidan and wondered what kept Sean tied to the past.

  Sean’s cell phone rang, although this time the tune was different. Sean glanced at the number and accepted the call. “Yeah, Jack?” He listened for a few minutes, and then looked at Debra. “Aidan’s at Jack’s place, playing video games with his three sons. Jack says he’ll give the boys dinner. Okay with you?”

  Debra nodded.

  “Sure thing,” Sean said into the phone. “We’ll swing by and pick him up on the way home.”

  She relaxed into a happy smile as Sean disconnected the call. “Looks like Aidan had his happy birthday after all.”

  “I’m glad. His father didn’t come, did he?”

  Debra shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged dismissively, although it hurt deep inside. “I’m okay with not meaning anything to him. I just wish Aidan did.” She tossed her head. “This probably isn’t suitable first date conversation either.”

  “Probably not.”

  “It gave you a chance to save the day, though.”

  He shrugged. “All I did was ask folks if we could move the firemen’s annual party over to your house.”

  “You may not think it was a big deal, but it was. You’re always finding ways to make things better. I’ve noticed. And I’m grateful.”

  “I’m…” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m glad.” He glanced at his watch as the waitress came up with the check. “I think we’ll have time to take the slow walk around to Jack’s house. Are you up for it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” Sean left cash to cover the bill and the tip, before reaching for Debra’s hand. The contact jolted through her, but his grip was light, making it easy for her to pull away or keep holding on.

  She chose to hold on.

  It felt the most natural thing in the world, walking along the pier, wrapped in each other’s company. The age difference that had seemed a big deal to her now seemed trite. It was, in fact, hard to recall why she had not recognized the possibilities of a relationship—other than the fact that she had been closed to them for more than eight years.

  The night breeze was cold, but her jacket and the warmth of Sean’s body beside her kept her comfortable. His pace slowed at the edge of the pier, and she stopped beside him, staring at his profile as he looked out on the open sea. He looked relaxed, at peace.

  “It must be great growing up here,” he murmured. “To always look out on infinite possibilities.”

  Until recently, her possibilities hadn’t seemed infinite, but in the past week, they had grown exponentially. Perhaps the fault had been her own in the smallness of her vision, in her lack of faith in the capacity for forgiveness in others. After Aidan’s birth, with the entire town seemingly set against her, she had selected the defensive route, coiling in upon herself to protect her son—and yet failing to do so.

  Eight years wasted. It would have been more if Sean hadn’t jostled me out of my cocoon.

  “I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave,” Sean continued.

  “You’ve come a long way, haven’t you
?”

  “West Virginia isn’t too far away.”

  “Not physically. In your heart. Your head.”

  A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Yes.” He turned to rest his elbows upon the wooden railing of the pier. “It’s funny, isn’t it, how time and physical space have little to do with how far one actually travels as a person. I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking about it, especially since meeting you.”

  “Me?”

  “You’ve forced me to take a hard look at people in my past and at my actions in the past.”

  “How did I do that?”

  “Just by being you, by getting through a really tough start, and not losing sight of the future.”

  “You’re giving me far more credit than I deserve. I was barely clinging on by my fingernails when you came by and showed me how much more I could make of my life.”

  “But my point is you did. You went out and got that first catering contract. It wasn’t me. It was you.”

  “You suggested it.”

  “Any idiot can suggest anything. Doing something…that’s what counts.”

  “When you’ve hit bottom, when you’re barely keeping your head above water, having a cheerleader, having someone who believes in you, who pushes you, is what counts,” she said quietly. “Maybe it takes two. Someone willing to push. Someone willing to be pushed.”

  His eyes met hers. “Maybe it does.”

  He leaned toward her, and for a moment, his lips hovered close, not touching, giving her a chance to pull away.

  There could very well have been a hundred reasons to pull away, but there was at least one reason to close the distance. She wanted to.

  Their lips met, scarcely more than a flutter of breath, but it set off the butterflies in her stomach and a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms, sinking into the rich, deep taste of him. Like potent whiskey, it shot straight into her head and made sensations whirl in a dizzy pirouette.

  She wanted it to go on forever.

  Perhaps it did. When she finally pulled away, she could not have said how much time had passed. She stared into eyes that had become familiar to her—familiar and precious. His gaze was tender, yet questioning. The silence lingered between them, warm and easy, until Debra felt her lips tug into a smile. “It’s been so long. I’m sorry—”