by Jade Kerrion
Every little bit of savings helped.
She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave and shouted up the stairs. “Aidan, we have to leave in thirty minutes. Get moving.”
A loud grunt from Aidan’s bedroom confirmed Aidan was awake. The dog scrambled up the stairs as Debra’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID; it was Marcia, the owner of Coffee Beans. “Hey, Marcia. What’s up?”
“I’m running late today.” Marcia sounded frazzled. “I can’t open up the store. In fact, I don’t think I can get there before noon. The deliveries will be arriving in about fifteen minutes though. Can you open up and meet them?”
“Yes, of course. I can be there in ten. It’ll be fine.” Debra hung up and strode to Aidan’s room. Her son had flung aside the blanket, but made little progress otherwise. “Hey, look, I have to get in early. I’m leaving now. I’ve got your lunch with me. Can you get dressed and come over on your own?”
Aidan grunted.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
Aidan’s head nodded. His foot twitched.
Debra stared at her son’s supine form. Aidan had made the trip to the café many times before. It was Havre de Grace; children were safe on the streets in this little town where no one had secrets—at least none that everyone else didn’t know. “Come in through the back door, all right? You can stay in the office and do your homework.”
Aidan grunted again and swatted her away.
“Don’t take too long waking up,” she said and scurried away, leaving Aidan and the puppy nestled on the bed.
The next hour passed in a blur of activity. She reached the café a minute after the delivery van, which had apparently chosen that day to be early. The next half hour was spent carting the freshly baked goods into the cafe and setting out the counter displays. The espresso and coffee machines bubbled and hummed. Water sloshed. The satellite radio chirped out the latest chart-topping hits. Debra tapped her feet and sashayed to the music. She didn’t try to sing. Some things just weren’t done, not even when one was alone.
At 8 a.m., she flipped the sign on the door to “Open.” Her first customer, Billy Madden, stopped by for his usual cup of coffee a minute later. Within ten minutes, half of the tables were occupied and the café bustled with traffic.
A solid half hour after she had expected Aidan, the door separating the café from the kitchen slid back, and Aidan’s head popped out. He did a waving gesture with his hand and vanished. The door closed on him. Debra relaxed. She hoped he had locked the house door on his way out, but even if he didn’t, it was Havre de Grace. Everyone knew they didn’t own much worth stealing.
She filled an order for elderly Mrs. Miller who liked her coffee mixed with hot chocolate, with a croissant on the side. “I’ll take it to the table for you,” she said.
“Thank you, dearie.” Mrs. Miller shuffled behind Debra and folded her tiny body into a chair by the window—her favorite seat. She spread her napkin over her lap and looked toward the door. “All these new folk…outsiders…are moving in.” She sighed. “Soon, I won’t know anyone.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always know me, Mrs. Miller.” Debra patted Mrs. Miller’s wrinkled hand.
The old woman smiled at her. “You’re a sweet one; don’t let anyone tell you different.”
Debra returned to the counter and nodded at Sean Orr, outsider and Havre de Grace’s newest firefighter. “What can I get for you?”
“Five coffees. Black and strong.”
“You got the rookie coffee duty, huh?”
Sean’s smile flashed white, slightly crooked teeth that accentuated his boyish charm.
Debra’s heart thumped a quick, irregular beat in her chest as she turned to fill five cups with coffee. If she were ten years younger, she might have fallen for his chiseled good looks and young, muscular body. Lucky me, I’m ten years older and wiser. She knew firsthand how a momentary lapse in judgment could permanently taint the rest of her life, and that of innocent victims, like Aidan. Regardless, she could enjoy the view, and Sean did make for a spectacular view.
“That will be $6.60, please.”
Sean slid the exact change across the counter. “By the way, I’m Sean.”
“Other.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Huh?”
“I prefer my middle name. Other.”
He still looked blank.
“You know, The Other Woman.”
“Oh.” He flushed. “Ray didn’t mean—”
Of course Ray had meant it, but it didn’t mean she had to take it to heart. She continued in the same lighthearted vein. “The is so common, and Woman could apply to at least 50 percent of the population, so I’ve decided to use my middle name: Other.”
“Do you go by anything else?”
“Debra.”
He nodded. “Debra.” Her name flowed off his tongue. “I think I like that name better than Other. I hope it’s okay to call you Debra.”
“Of course. I’m sure—”
A loud crash rattled the café. Heads swiveled toward the kitchen as Debra pushed aside the sliding door. A wide-eyed mutt stood in the middle of the room, amid a mess of muffins and brownies. Aidan was tucked in a corner, his mouth hanging open, but his gaze darted to Debra and immediately turned defiant. “I did it!”
“What is Jewel doing here?” Debra rushed into the kitchen, only distantly aware of Sean coming up behind her. “Why did you bring her here?”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t!”
“I didn’t know I had to say that! I shouldn’t have to say that.” She stared at a day’s worth of baked goods smashed into crumbs on the tiled floor. Tightness clutched at her chest. What was she going to tell Marcia?
A querulous voice came from the front. “What’s happening back there? I’m still waiting to order.”
Debra pressed the damp palm of her hands on her apron and looked at Aidan. “You get this place cleaned up, and then get that dog out of here.”
Aidan’s eyebrows drew together. “She doesn’t like being alone. She gets afraid.”
“I don’t care what she gets. Just clean this up.”
Sean’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go up front? Someone’s got to cover the counter. I’ll give Aidan a hand here.”
Debra opened her mouth, an instinctive refusal on her lips—she knew better than to accept help from a man—but the panic in Aidan’s eyes stalled her. She couldn’t handle the store and her son at the same time. Aidan was within seconds of bolting. If he ran out the door—
Her hands clenched into fists. “Okay, thanks.” She mentally winced at the stiffness in her voice. Sean would think her ungrateful—oh, what the heck, she didn’t have time or reason to care what a man thought of her. “The broom and dustpan are in the closet. Trash can go out the back—”
“We’ve got it, don’t we, kid?” Sean’s firm hand against her lower back propelled her out the door. As the door slid close, she heard Sean address Aidan. “So, you have a name?”
Aidan might have said something, but the sound was muted by the dog’s ecstatic woof.
Debra squeezed her eyes shut. Jewel. What on Earth was she going to do with that dog?
Debra’s shift usually ended at 4 p.m.—allowing her enough time to enjoy the rest of the Saturday—but the baked goods debacle kept her in the store until 6 p.m., mopping the floor and tallying the damage. Her hands trembled as she added the numbers. The lost sales exceeded five hundred dollars.
“It’s going to take me a while to cover it,” Debra said as she handed over the calculations to Marcia during a lull in the café’s activity. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to pay it down over six months.”
Marcia frowned at the numbers. “Do you want to take it out of your weekly check?”
“No, I can’t.” Debra needed her paycheck for the household bills. “I’ll find another way to come up with the money.” Perhaps she could pick up more hours at the clinic.
Marcia nodded. “I’m sorry I can’t help more besides giving you time to cover it. Margins are really tight here at the café, especially on the baked goods.”
“I know. I’m just grateful for the time. I’ll cover it all; don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried, as long as that dog doesn’t come back.”
Debra’s smile wavered. She glanced out the café window where Aidan and Jewel, both banished from the store, sat on the sidewalk. “She won’t be back.” She tucked the piece of paper into her pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Walking out of the store, she waved Aidan over. Her son leaped to his feet and raced to her, Jewel by his side. “What took so long?”
“I had to clean the floor—”
“Sean and I already cleaned the floor.”
Debra decided not to mention the crumbs she had found under the counters and in the corners. Besides, Aidan was right. If not for Sean, the mess would have been far larger than she could have managed, on top of running the café. “You two did a pretty decent job; I just went over it one more time. And then I had to calculate how much money was lost when Jewel tipped over those muffin and brownie trays.”
“I told you, I did it, not Jewel.”
“You were on the other side of the room. Jewel was in the middle of the mess.”
“But I’m responsible for her.”
“That you are.” She unlocked the car and ushered Aidan and Jewel into the backseat. The dog sprawled over most of the backseat, squeezing Aidan into a tiny corner. “You’re going to start by finding her a new home.”
“What!”
Debra slammed the door on Aidan, but his vociferous protests started up the moment she stepped into the driver’s seat. “You can’t give her away. She’s my dog!”
“I thought you said you found her in a gutter?”
“I…” Aidan faltered, briefly trapped by his lie. “I did, but she’s my dog now. She belongs with me.”
“She belongs with a family that can afford her.”
“I can afford her.”
“She destroyed $500 worth of brownies and muffins today, and she’s going to be a big dog. Before you know it, she’ll be eating gobs of dog food—”
“She can have my food.”
I can hardly afford your food. Debra bit back the truth and instead said, “Dogs eat different food.”
“I’m not going to give her away.”
“Yes, you are, Aidan. You brought her home without checking with me first. If you had asked—”
“You would have said no. You always say no!”
“With good reason—”
“You always say you have good reasons but you don’t! You never listen when I ask for anything. You always say no.”
Guilt clutched at Debra’s heart. Her cell phone rang, the tune distinctive—deliberately so—and Debra braced herself before accepting the call. “Hello, Peter.”
Peter Warren’s tenor was smooth and melodic, a voice that could make a woman believe anything. Debra had made that mistake once before. “I can’t come by to see Aidan tomorrow,” he said. “You’ve got him, right?”
Her hand tightened around the phone. “He was looking forward to your visit.”
“Well, plans changed. Something important came up.”
“Something important came up the past three out of four weeks too,” Debra snapped. “Do you need a better secretary?”
Peter chuckled. She could almost see the smirk on his face. “I like the one I have. She’s…capable. Anyway, next week. Maybe.”
Aidan leaned forward. “Is it Dad on the phone?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Can you ask him for money for Jewel’s food?”
“No, I’m not going to do that.”
Peter’s voice sounded through the phone. “Do what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” She disconnected the call.
“Why didn’t you ask him?” Aidan demanded. “He would have helped me keep Jewel.”
He’s eight months behind on your child support as it is. “He wouldn’t have.”
“You didn’t even ask. You just don’t want me to have my dog.”
She pulled the car into the driveway. “Aidan—”
“You don’t want me to have anything!” He jumped out of the car, and Jewel, with a loud bark, raced after him, through the side gate and into the backyard.
The pressure flooding Debra’s chest rushed upward to pulse a headache through her skull and moisten her eyes. To heck with the happy ending. All she needed was a lucky break.
Chapter 3
The next day, the sun blazed down light but little heat. Nevertheless, Sean had managed to work up a sweat hosing down the fire trucks. It was yet another rookie job, like buying the coffee, but Sean didn’t mind. It was one way of fitting in with the pace of life in Havre de Grace.
He strode over the rivulets of water trickling across the sloping concrete down to the storm drains. His new sneakers squeaked—it would take a week or two to break them in—and the collar of his new shirt chafed the back of his neck.
My brand new life. It was not as comfortable as the old, perhaps, but it was a heck of an improvement on where the old one was headed.
His cell phone rang, the tone unique. He ignored it and allowed it to go to voicemail, but the sound of the ring had its desired effect. The muscles around his neck and shoulders clenched, locking tension into hard knots. The coffee and scrambled eggs he had that morning curdled in his stomach.
His old life wasn’t safely locked away in his past.
Not yet.
Frustration made him scrub harder at the mud caked on the fire engines. The back-and-forth motion did little to untangle the knot in his chest, but at least it channeled his anger.
Jack’s voice cut through the red haze in his mind. “Don’t take all the paint off.”
Sean straightened. Only then did he feel the tight cramp of his shoulder and back muscles. He grunted, not trusting himself to respond to his old friend.
“You looked like you were hundreds of miles away, like in Elkins, maybe?” Jack leaned his shoulder against the truck. “Don’t go back there, man. You’ve broken away.”
“Have I?” A muscle twitched in Sean’s jaw. “She’s still calling.”
“You’re not picking up.”
Sean shook his head.
“You ever think of changing your number?”
Sean’s faint frown deepened into a scowl.
“Too much like running away?” Jack snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve already run away. Just cut the last tie.”
“I’ve had this phone number for years before I had her.”
“Now you’re being idiotic. It’s just a number. Let it go.”
Sean flung down the sponge. “I’ve lost everything—”
“You chose to give up everything,” Jack corrected. “And it was the right call.”
“Maybe.” Sean’s smile twisted a bitter curve. “But it was still everything.”
“Everything ain’t worth a whole lot when it’s with the wrong person.”
“You’re such a wise ass.”
“Practice.” Jack grinned. He glanced past Sean’s shoulder. “Hey, Aidan. Where’s your mother? You know you’re not supposed to be out and about without her or another adult.”
Sean turned to see Aidan standing on the pavement, his shoulders dragged down by a heavy backpack. The mutt called Jewel stood beside him.
“She knows I’m out.” Aidan’s defiant words were offered in a mutter.
The inconsistency of the response sent a tingle of alarm down Sean’s spine. He and Jack exchanged a glance. “Where are you off to?” Sean asked.
Aidan stared at him. His gaze darted toward the town square; more specifically, at the corner occupied by the bus stand. The child’s lips trembled, but he said nothing.
Sean kept his voice casual. “The bus to D.C. came through a half hour ago. The one to Baltimore isn’t due for anothe
r fifteen minutes.”
“Oh.” Aidan straightened. A tiny smile appeared on his lips. “Okay.”
“Who are you visiting in Baltimore?”
“My dad.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you,” Sean said. From the fire station, someone called out Jack’s name, and Jack turned and walked away, but not before clamping a hand on Sean’s shoulder in an intentional way. He did not need words to convey the message, “Don’t let him run away.”
Sean nodded before turning back to Aidan. “Do you see your dad often?”
Aidan shook his head. “He’s supposed to see me every weekend, but he’s busy. He has an awesome job in Baltimore.”
“I bet he does. Are you taking Jewel to see him?”
“I’m going to live with him.” Aidan raised his chin, but his voice wobbled.
“I see. Jewel, too?”
“Mom says I have to find a new home for her.”
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean you had to find a new home for yourself, too.”
“But Jewel is my dog. I’m not going to give her away. I promised to keep her for always.” Tears moistened Aidan’s voice.
“Right.” Sean squatted down to be on eye-level with Aidan. He ruffled Jewel’s fur, and the puppy woofed. “That’s a tough situation. I don’t think your mom meant for you to break a promise. She probably didn’t know you’d made one.”
“She just doesn’t want me to have anything. I ask her for stuff, and she never gives it to me.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Like a new bike. Like all the cool toys my friends get for their birthday and for Christmas.” The glitter in Aidan’s eyes melted into tears that he swiped away with a dirty hand. “I don’t need toys or stuff. I just want a dog, but Mom says I can’t keep her.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said Jewel cost too much money—”
Sean thought back to the mess of baked goods on the floor of the café. Those had been a day’s worth of sales, certainly a tidy sum.
“And when Dad called, she didn’t even ask him for money for Jewel even though I told her to. She’s mean. She doesn’t want me to have my dog.”