“Marissa?”
Marissa closed the violin case and looked up at her sister. “Yeah?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She managed a thin smile. “I think I realized tonight, maybe for the first time, that it wasn’t just Declan I missed. I missed the girl I was when I dated him.”
Cassie nodded as if she understood, but Marissa wasn’t sure she would.
Marissa put a hand back on the violin case. “I think I’m going to try to find that girl again.”
SHE COULDN’T GET DECLAN off her mind the rest of the weekend, and that kiss had played itself out in her dreams more than once. Well, sometimes dreams and sometimes nightmares. The kiss had been an integral part of both on more than one occasion.
Marissa eyed her phone as she did the dishes. She couldn’t tell if she wanted the phone to ring or if she was hoping Declan had tossed her number in the trash. It had been almost four days since the night of the reunion. Nothing was entirely out of the realm of possibility.
There was a chance he was on one of the same social media sites she was on. It wouldn’t be that hard to look him up and connect.
She dried her hands before she picked up her cell phone and opened her social media app. Just picking it up made her stomach erupt in agitation.
This is ridiculous. I’m a grown woman acting like a teenager.
She ignored the voice in her head which tried to remind her she was almost forty years old, and that she should have grown beyond this childish curiosity in her ex-boyfriend’s life. After all, the man probably had plenty of people in his life helping him through his grief.
What was that Emily Cramer had said about church? He hadn’t gone since his wife died? Marissa bit her lip. Not that she expected that to change anytime soon, given Emily’s rather obvious gossipping at the reunion, but if Declan hadn’t been to church in several months, then maybe he didn’t have the strong network she thought he had.
He might need her.
Marissa swallowed her pride and searched for him.
Fifteen results populated the page, and it was difficult to tell which one belonged to her high school boyfriend. Until she saw the picture of his three children he’d shared with her at the diner.
Forty-two mutual friends.
Sounded about right for someone with whom she’d gone to high school.
Marissa steeled herself with a sudden, sharp inhale before she clicked on the profile.
This user’s profile is private.
Marissa’s phone clattered to the kitchen counter, and she pressed a hand to her forehead as shame and fear crowded back in. What do you think you’re doing, Marissa? Twenty years ago, you rejected him, and now you expect him to need you again?
She returned to the dishes, setting aside her feelings of disappointment and sadness. Twenty years ago, she’d ended things with Declan to try to give herself the space to grapple with her new reality. She couldn’t blame him for doing the same thing now.
So why did she have this sense of overwhelming loss creeping back in on her?
Chapter Six
Declan
“Excuse me.”
A red-headed boy nearly knocked Declan over as he zig-zagged through the grocery store patrons. Though bone-achingly tired, Declan just smiled at the boy’s retreating form. From the murmurs and gasps behind and in front of him, it seemed not all the grocery store patrons were nearly so understanding.
That was a shame. The kid was probably just excited to be helping the adult with such a grown-up task. In Declan’s opinion, they could use more kids with that level of enthusiasm. Even they could use a few lessons on courtesy and caution.
He turned back to the dilemma at hand. Soup. Why on earth grocery stores thought having a thousand different soups on the shelves was at all good for the consumer was beyond him? At the moment, he would have been satisfied with two. Chicken noodle and tomato. In his current mindset, he would buy pallets of the stuff if they’d let him.
“Mom, look. It’s Superman.”
He glanced up to find the same windswept redhead from earlier, this time at the elbow of his mother who looked toward the prepared pasta cans.
He smiled. The boy had a patient mother. That was good.
He returned to his task, but there was something familiar about the mother which tugged at the corner of his mind. He took a second surreptitious glance in her direction.
His stomach clenched as recognition dawned. Marissa.
The woman and her son consulted a moment longer before the brunette looked up, her gaze caught on Declan’s staring form. Her pink heart-shaped lips fell open as she saw him, apparently less surprised by seeing him in the grocery store than he’d been to see her.
“Aiden, why don’t you go get us some cereal?”
The boy, unaware of whatever was going on between the two adults, dropped the cans of prepared pasta into the cart and zoomed away as Marissa drew her cart closer to Declan’s. “Hey there, stranger.”
His heart thudded against his rib cage. “Riss, good to see you.”
She frowned as she studied him, the little fold between her eyebrows becoming more pronounced the deeper the frown grew. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
The last time he’d seen her, the last time he’d spoken to her, he’d kissed her. That had been almost two weeks ago. They hadn’t spoken since. “Uh, fine. You?”
She shifted, looking up as another grocery store patron attempted to slide between their carts to go further down the aisle.
He grimaced and tried to scoot his grocery cart a little closer to the outside edges of the aisle. He wished for a moment that they would have met in the produce section rather than in the narrow aisles of the canned goods, but fate apparently only gave one so long to make their own plans before she took over.
Fate?
He groaned internally. Just because Marissa wasn’t married didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend. Besides, why did he care? His world was just getting back to normal.
She’s your friend, and you want her to be happy.
As if Marissa was having a similar conversation in her mind, she took a long moment to respond. “I’m okay.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence, and Declan knew that what stood between them was that kiss. That stupid, impulsive kiss he’d planted on her two weeks ago.
“I’m sorry—”
His eyebrow quirked up when he realized Marissa had spoken the same words at almost the same time.
She laughed and motioned for him to speak. “Go ahead.”
A faintly amused smile playing on his lips, he looked at his feet. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
She shook her head. “Don’t blame yourself. I’m the one who suggested we go to the diner in the first place. It must have been awkward with all those memories. We were bound to fall into old habits.”
He recoiled at the idea. “Old habits? Is that what you think happened?”
Her eyes widened. “Wasn’t it?”
He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. “I’m not sure what it was, but it definitely wasn’t old habits.”
Marissa’s cheeks reddened, and he wasn’t sure if she was blushing because of the kiss or because he was so insistent that it wasn’t old habits. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure why he needed her to believe it was more than just the memories which had pushed him to—well, kiss her.
“Mom, Mom, Mom!” The eight-year-old’s voice and the sound of his impatient footsteps preceded their vision as did a handful of hey and watch where you’re going young man comments in the wake of his racing.
Marissa turned a stern look to her son, who turned almost as red as she had only a moment earlier as he handed her a cereal box. A superhero on the box told him that Aiden would be an instant best friend to his own son. “Can we get this cereal?”
The boy looked small for eight, only about two-thirds of Marissa’s five foot seven inch frame and almost
too skinny for a growing boy. He wondered for a moment if the reason the boy was so small was in part because of whatever circumstances had brought Aiden to Marissa.
Still, it was clear, given how Marissa talked the boy through his reasons for wanting the cereal, that she was his mother. This was Marissa’s son.
Something twanged in his chest, a remnant of long-dead dreams. At one time, he’d imagined that her son would be his son. Though he’d moved on, the instinctive pull at his heart to love her child was too strong to ignore, and it took him by surprise.
Marissa put both hands on her son’s shoulders as she turned him toward Declan. “Hey, Dec, this is my son, Aiden. Aiden, this is my old friend, Declan Pierce.”
Declan eyed Marissa, the exhaustion melting away as his emotions shifted to amusement. “Watch it, Riss. I’m not that much older than you.”
Marissa blushed as she shook her head, a delicious streak of sarcasm shining in her eyes. “Thanks for that.”
Declan offered his hand in greeting to the boy. “Hi Aiden.”
Aiden studied Declan’s hand before he stepped forward and shook it. “Did you run into my mom at her high school reunion?”
Declan looked up at Marissa, somewhat pleased to see the way she bit her lip. It was enough to tell him she was just as nervous about Aiden’s reception as he was.
Funny that she should be so nervous when they were just friends. Then again, she wasn’t the only one. The cacophony in his chest told him that much.
Declan nodded. “Yeah. I hadn’t seen your mom since graduation. It was nice to catch up. Thanks for letting me borrow her.”
Aiden’s shoulders squared, his eyes sparkling with a small degree of pride. “I’m always telling Mom she needs to go out more.”
Declan stole a glance at Marissa. While he wasn’t surprised that she was a doting mother, he was a little shocked that she would need encouragement to go out and spend time with other people. If he was honest with himself, he couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t dating anyone.
Marissa’s laugh sparkled in the air between them even though her cheeks pinked at the insinuation that she had no life. “Aiden, you make it sound like I never leave the house.”
“In his mind, you probably don’t.” Declan winked at Aiden. “She’s just mom, right?”
Aiden’s ears pinked.
Declan chuckled. “It’s okay, kid. It’s normal. I think it would shock my kids to know that I used to skateboard.”
Aiden’s eyes widened as he looked up at his mom. “Did he skateboard in high school?”
Marissa’s lips tensed as she tried to keep from smiling. “No, kiddo. He’d given that up by the time I met him.”
Aiden’s gaze zeroed in on him, but Declan just shrugged. “What can I say? I wasn’t that good.”
“From the stories your mom used to tell me, you weren’t just not good. You were terrible. A klutz on wheels, if I’m not mistaken.”
Aiden’s eyes widened.
Declan couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I may have broken a wrist or two in the year before Mom made it disappear.”
“...Or four,” Marissa muttered under her breath as she eyed the content label on a box of whole-wheat pasta.
Declan pretended not to have heard her, turning a pointed look in her direction. “What was that?”
She smiled sweetly at him as she put the box back on the shelf. “Oh, I just said that your mother told me you’d broken four bones while you had the skateboard, Dec. You broke the same wrist twice. Once, you broke the other wrist, and then one day, you broke your foot just for fun.”
Aiden’s lips formed the word wow before he shook his head. “My mom would have taken away the skateboard after one broken wrist.”
Marissa didn’t wait for Declan to look up at her for confirmation, though her lips lifted in submission to the idea. “What can I say? My son knows me too well. He’s lucky I let him play football.”
Declan turned to the boy. “You play football?”
He grinned. “We’re still just practicing, but yeah.”
Declan clapped the boy on the shoulder. “Let me know when you have your first game. I’d love to see you play.”
Before Aiden could respond, Marissa turned to her son. “Sweetheart, do me a favor and get some orange juice? I think you could use the extra vitamin C. It’s cold and flu season.”
Aiden bolted toward the refrigerated section of the grocery store without a word.
Declan had to refrain from crossing his arms in defense. He didn’t want to give Marissa a reason to get on the defensive herself. “Something wrong with me wanting to see Aiden play?”
She shook her head. “Of course not, but I’m sure your kids need you home, and Aiden could talk your ear off for the next hour or two if you let him. Besides, I wanted to let you know that you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to offer to go to his game.”
He looked at his feet for a moment; the emotions playing out in his chest. She wasn’t wrong. He had kids, and they did need him, but if he would be any good to them, he needed to find himself again. Tap into the person he was before loss. Before Angie, even. Something told him that Marissa—and maybe Aiden—were an enormous part of finding his new normal.
“Marissa, I locked myself in my house for the better part of a year. As much as I love my kids, it’s not the end of the world if I’m a few minutes late coming home from work because I ran into a friend and her kid at the grocery store. In fact, I’ve probably been a hermit long enough that my mother-in-law will be excited that I’m even thinking about getting a life. Even if it’s just going to some kids’ football game.”
Marissa bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the ground. Strange that this adult Marissa would have trouble figuring out what to say to him. It had always been so easy to talk to her when they were kids. It had seemed easy for her to talk to him as well. “And are you?”
“Am I what?”
She shrugged, her eyes darting to his wedding ring and then back to his face. “Thinking about getting a life?”
He tensed. It was a fair question, especially coming from her. He just couldn’t quite figure out why she was asking. As a friend? As someone who hoped for more? “Thinking about it? Yeah. Ready? Not so sure.”
Her brown eyes warmed in sympathy as if she understood the answer. Once again, he was moved by how she really seemed to understand him, understand his grief. Was it just how she’d lost her parents or was it something else?
Someone walked between them, and he cursed himself. This wasn’t the place for that kind of conversation. “Aiden’s a great kid. I’m glad I got to meet him.”
Her head snapped up as a pleasant smile drifted onto her lips. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
Those old feelings reared up again, that urge to run his fingers through her reddish-brown hair, to pull her close and never let her go. But he’d lost those privileges a long time ago now. Maybe too long ago.
Even if it wasn’t too long ago, maybe it was just the wrong time.
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of getting a life—”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“You wouldn’t want to help me figure out how to actually go about doing that, would you?”
She squinted at him under the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. “My son thinks I never leave the house. You really think I’m the best person for the job?”
He shrugged. “We’re friends, right? There are worse places to start than having coffee with an old friend.”
She seemed to consider this. “That’s true.”
“So, coffee tomorrow?”
She looked over her shoulder, and he wondered if she was thinking about her son. Was she nervous about whether Aiden would be underfoot when Declan wanted to go? “Make it lunch, and you have a deal.”
He grinned. Actually, that would work better for him, too. He wouldn't have to explain it to Helen if he was late. “If memory serves, you like
Greek food.”
Her lips fell open, like she didn’t expect him to remember their favorite little Greek hole-in-the-wall restaurant across from the movie theater. Unfortunately, drawing attention to her lips just reminded Declan of that kiss. The one he should never have let happen.
“Love it. Meet you at Nico’s?”
Aiden ran around the corner again, a plastic bottle of orange juice in his hands. “Got it, Mom.”
Declan couldn’t help but wink at the kid, even while adults around them audibly complained at the boy’s speed. Then Declan turned to Marissa. “Eleven-thirty tomorrow morning?”
For the first time since they’d seen each other at the reunion, she brightened with that gentle smile that lit every part of her face. His gut tugged when he realized he’d been the one to put that smile back on her face, and he realized that one reason he’d been on edge the last few weeks was because he’d been waiting to see it again. Not the pity. Not the amusement. Just the quiet joy she’d radiated when he did simple things for her.
It had been a long time since someone had looked at him like that. Not that Angie hadn’t. It was just that she’d been gone longer than he cared to admit. Long enough that Marissa’s smile filled a void he hadn’t even realized was there.
Aiden waved. “Bye, Mr. Pierce.”
Declan tousled the boy’s hair with a wink. “Mr. Pierce is my dad, kid. If it’s okay with your mom, you can call me Declan.”
The eight-year-old’s eyes widened as he turned for confirmation from his mother.
Marissa chuckled as she nodded, turning a silent thank you to Declan with an emotion he hadn’t expected to see there.
He reached for her hand and squeezed it, that old familiar tingle racing up his arm. “Have a good night, Riss.”
“Hug your kids for me.”
There it was again, that strange twang of old dreams in his chest. He just nodded before he looked down at Aiden. “Take care of your mom?”
Aiden puffed out his chest as he nodded. “Always.”
Marissa waved at him as she moved her cart down the aisle. “Good night, Dec. See you tomorrow.”
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