by Jade Kerrion
She smiled. “It was just something simple.”
“I don’t get home-cooked meals much, but yours was a couple of notches above a regular home-cooked meal.” He glanced out the window. “I should get Jewel and head on out. Get her settled into her new home.”
“Thank you for adopting her.”
“Sure.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, as if he didn’t know what to do with them, and nodded. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”
Debra followed him to the door. As she watched Sean call for his dog and attach a leash around Jewel’s collar, she was aware—for the first time—that her stomach had not tied up in knots over her interactions with a man. She had not been sitting on the edge of her seat, worried that Aidan would screw up in some way and make Sean angry.
Other than that annoying flicker of attraction, she had not felt more comfortable with a man since…
Never.
Her smile gave way to wistful reflection. It made sense that things seemed simple with Sean. He’s new to Havre de Grace; he’s practically a stranger. There’s no history to clog up our conversations. He’s so much younger than I am; it’s not as if anything’s going to happen. And it’s just about Jewel, really. He’ll take the dog, and we’ll never see him again.
It’s a zero stakes friendship.
Later that night, Sean lay in his bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling. Jewel snored, a heavy and limp sprawl of fur over his feet. The puppy had accompanied him home without a fuss, as if she had known the transfer of ownership was a farce. Once safely ensconced in his apartment, she settled in as if she owned it, leaping into his bed and claiming a cozy spot in a pool of blankets and pillows.
It felt right.
The dog at his feet felt right.
The eager and chatty boy at dinner—the boy who reminded him of himself—felt right.
The boy’s mother—Sean drew a deep breath, the sound jagged. Her eyes were tired, and her makeup sparse. Her dark hair was long, less out of vanity—Sean suspected—and more because the style was easy and cheap to maintain. Her smiles, however, were both frequent and relaxed, and the orange scent wafting about her was equally sweet and spicy, and distracting—although not nearly as distracting as her voice. It was a warm, rich alto, which infused her rare, husky laughter with sensuality.
His cell phone rang, the tone unique. He glanced at the screen as Romina’s name appeared. He did not pick it up.
Several minutes later, a beep announced a new voicemail.
Teeth gritted, he reached for his phone.
“Hi, Sean.” The chirp of Romina’s familiar voice grated against his nerves. “I had a terrible day today…” For several minutes, she warbled on about a day filled with petty annoyances, like a shop assistant who had been slow at the checkout counter, and the boy at the grocery store who had bagged her purchases incorrectly. Even the attendant at the spa had contributed to Romina’s awful day by failing to refresh the snacks in the waiting room.
Tension knotted his shoulders. Complaints. Nothing but complaints. A world was a pathetic, miserable place viewed through the eyes of a person determined to find everything wrong with it.
Romina’s tone turned wheedling. “I miss you so much. I hope you’re all right, and that you’ll come back soon. Talking to you every day is the only way I can cope with everything life throws at me. You’re the only person who makes it all seem manageable.”
Her trust tightened like a noose around his neck.
“I know you said that…we’re over.” Her voice cracked. “But I know you didn’t mean it. You just need space, and I can give you that, because I know you’ll come back to me. There’s so much love between us. We can make everything all right.”
No, we can’t. Sean deleted the voicemail. What part of “We’re not good for each other. I’m breaking up with you and moving away,” did she not understand?
There had never been love, only obligation.
And after a point, even obligation was not enough.
He gritted his teeth; tension clenched around his jaw and neck, but the memory of Debra’s smiles and laughter soothed the grinding edge of resentment. Tomorrow, the thought flashed through his mind as he drifted to sleep. I’ll see her tomorrow.
Chapter 5
Debra slid the change across the counter, and as the elderly woman stepped away, she raised her head to smile at her next customer. “Five black coffees?”
Sean grinned. “You know it.”
She grabbed a stack of cups to fill the order. “I know you have a coffeemaker at the station.”
“It’s not quite a good as your coffee.”
“If you all would stop buying cheap instant brew, you’d have great coffee.”
“Ah, but we firemen lack both funds and good taste where coffee’s concerned.” Sean laughed. “Or maybe I just like having an excuse to stop by the café. How’s Aidan doing?”
Debra looked at him. His expression was serious; his question had been intentional, and he was patiently waiting for an answer.
“Aidan’s doing fine,” Debra said. “Grunted his way through breakfast, like normal. He perked up though when he talked about you and Jewel.”
“Didn’t take it too hard, then?”
“No, and I’ll admit I’m surprised. I’d braced myself for several weeks of sulky fits, but so far, my fears are unfounded. Actually, I’d wondered if—” Her cellphone rang, and she glanced at it. Peter. Her shoulders stiffened.
“Go ahead and get it,” Sean said. “I’m the only one waiting, and I don’t mind.”
She hesitated, but his eyes were kind and his stance relaxed. “Okay, it’ll be quick, I promise.” She accepted the call. “Peter, I’m at work now. I can’t chat long.”
“Just wanted to let you know the check will be a couple of days late.”
It’s never been early. “Okay, fine. Thanks.”
“I’ll let you know when I put it in the mail.”
“All right. Will you be here next Sunday?”
“Probably not. I’ve got something happening here next weekend.”
“But you’ll be here on the 14th, right? It’s Aidan’s birthday and he’s having a party.”
“But it’s Valentine’s Day. You’re having a party for Aidan on Valentine’s Day?”
“It’s a Sunday and we talked about it two months ago. You agreed that it would be best to hold his party on the same day as your usual visits to make it more convenient for you.” Despite her best efforts, frustration crept into her voice. “Aidan’s looking forward to the party. All the invitations have gone out. He’s told everyone you’re going to be there.”
“What the—? Why would the kid do that?”
“You’re his father. Why shouldn’t he tell people that you’ll be at his party?”
“It’s silly to set expectations—”
“It’s not a silly expectation. Be there, Peter. He needs you there.” She disconnected the call and fought the urge to slam the phone down on the counter. Slowly, she counted up to ten. By four, she was ready to look up and meet Sean’s curious gaze with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, that was Aidan’s dad.”
“Aidan’s birthday is in two weeks?”
She nodded. “He turns eight.”
“Big deal for a little kid.”
“It’s also his first real party. Things have been a little tight for a while.” In fact, they still are. “But you know, a kid only turns eight once, and he wanted his friends over, so we’re having a small party for him.”
“Sounds great. I wanted to ask if it’s okay for me to come by this evening and bring Jewel over to see Aidan.”
“Is Jewel all right?”
“Well, yeah, but she misses him. I thought it might be easier on everyone if the transition’s not so…abrupt.”
Debra tilted her head. “Sean, you’re a terrible liar. Almost as bad as Aidan.”
“I’ve had more practice, although obviously not as much as I’d like.
Either that or your mommy radar is remarkably honed.”
“Probably the latter. Aidan keeps me in shape. What deal did he strike with you?”
“He wants to see Jewel often.”
“Every day?”
“As much as we can both make it happen. Jewel’s down at the firehouse with me every day, and your place is on the way home, so stopping by won’t be a problem for me, unless you say so.”
“Oh, Sean. You adopted Jewel for Aidan’s sake, didn’t you?” Debra’s heart melted. How could it not when a virtual stranger had stepped into her precious son’s life and tried to make her child happy? “How did Aidan put you up to it?”
“He was walking by the firehouse with Jewel, and we stopped to chat. He said you’d told him to find a new home for Jewel. You know me and my weakness for dogs whose names start with J.” He shrugged and flashed a smile. “Meant to be.”
“No, it wasn’t just meant to be. You made it happen. Thank you.” Debra’s voice wobbled in spite of her best efforts to hold on to her composure. Compassion changed lives far more often than fate and destiny. “I’m grateful you reached out to him. Sometimes, he has trouble connecting with people, especially adults.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I didn’t mean to complain. Holly did some great work with him before she left town. Before she started taking an interest in his progress, Aidan was the official troublemaker in Havre de Grace Elementary. Now, he’s only the occasional troublemaker.”
Sean laughed. “I was like that growing up. Too much energy and not enough places to spend them. Taking responsibility for a dog, even one not living with him, will help direct some of his energy. He could take Jewel for walks in the evening and on the weekends; maybe earn a bit of cash on the weekends.”
“Oh no, you don’t have to pay him. He’d do it for free.”
“Just because he enjoys it doesn’t mean he shouldn’t charge for it. It’ll be good for him to have a job. It’ll steady him, give him something to be proud of.”
“Is that the voice of experience speaking?” Debra smiled.
“Absolutely.” Sean exchanged a ten-dollar bill for his five cups of coffee and waved the change away. “Thanks for letting me come by in the evenings.”
She waited until the door closed on him, leaving her alone in the café. The tears she had held back brimmed her eyes. No, thank you, Sean. Thank you for wanting to come by.
Aidan’s hoots of laughter and Jewel’s joyous barks kept Debra company as she scooped large portions of browned chicken chunks and mixed vegetables into the pie crust. Sean’s laughter rang out as she slid the chicken potpie into the oven and set the timer. He spoke over the noise, “No, no, Aidan. When you hop up and down, she’s gonna jump too. Keep your voice calm and firm when you say, ‘Sit.’”
“Sit,” Aidan ordered. He pumped his fist into the air. “Whoot, she did it!”
“Her butt hit the ground for a fraction of a second. It doesn’t count.”
“Sure it did. I didn’t tell her for how long.”
Sean chuckled. “Okay, here’s another treat for her. Let’s try it again.”
Debra opened the back door and joined them on the patio. “How’s doggy training school coming along?”
“Awesome,” Aidan and Sean said in unison. They flashed each other a grin.
“Watch me, Mom.” Aidan held up the treat. “Sit!”
Jewel jumped high.
Debra laughed and sat on the lower step. “Is she too young for this?”
“No.” Sean shook his head. “Eight weeks is a good time to start. She’ll grow to be a big dog, so the sooner she learns to listen, the better off everyone will be.” He gestured to the empty space beside Debra. “May I?”
Her heartbeat skittered. “Yes, of course.”
“Thanks. I’ve been on my feet most of the day, getting things organized for the fire safety exhibit at Aidan’s school next week.”
His body heat warmed her and his scent—rich, musky, all male—went straight to her head. With effort, she dragged her thoughts back into the safe zone. “What’s the exhibit about?”
“Fire safety,” Sean repeated.
Oh, right. He said that. She tried for a graceful save. “I mean, what’s in it?”
“Most of what you’d expect. Safety tips like turning off stoves, blowing out candles. When to call 911. We’ll be bringing the fire engine up there too so the kids can check it out.”
“Sounds like fun.” She smiled. “Once, I wanted to be a fireman.”
“Oh?”
“I think it might have been after ballerina and before astronaut.”
Sean laughed. The deep, sexy sound set off the butterflies in her stomach. “And then what happened?” he asked.
“Life happened.” She gestured at Aidan, who was romping through the yard with Jewel. “I had Aidan at twenty-four, and I put a lot of plans on hold while I figured out how to be his mother.”
“And you did it alone.”
She nodded. “Peter, Aidan’s father, didn’t love me.”
A small furrow set in Sean’s brow. “You say that so calmly.”
“It’s a fact. I knew it then. I know it now.”
“And yet, Aidan…”
“I kept him. Everyone told me it was crazy, that I wasn’t ready to be a mother. And they were right.” Debra wrapped her hands around her knees, hugging her legs to her chest. “I think things might have been a little easier if my parents were still alive. I like to think they would have supported my decision.”
“You kept Aidan because you didn’t want to be alone.”
Debra shot Sean a startled glance. “I…” Her gaze drifted past his shoulder as she turned the words over in her mind. “I guess I did.” Their eyes met again and she stiffened against the tingle down her spine. “I wasn’t expecting to bare my soul.”
“You didn’t.” Sean’s smile flashed. “We’re just chatting.”
“So what brings you to Havre de Grace?”
“Jack’s an old family friend, and when he told me there was an opening for a fireman here, I decided to take it.”
“Are you enjoying it so far?”
Sean nodded. He leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out before him. He wore a faint smile as he raised his face to the breeze. “I love Havre de Grace. It’s got the small-town feel, but enough outside influences from D.C. and Baltimore to not feel entirely closed in. Right now, I’m renting an apartment, but I’m thinking of upgrading to a house with a yard.”
“For Jewel?”
He nodded.
“It’s an expensive upgrade just to keep a dog.”
He shrugged. “We all choose to spend money in different ways. Spending it on a dog who returns your affection with loyal companionship isn’t a bad trade. Besides—” His phone rang. He suddenly stiffened but made no attempt to reach for it.
Maybe he wanted to take the call in private. Debra shot to her feet. “I’m going to check on the oven. Dinner should be done by now.” She scurried into the kitchen and removed the chicken potpie from the oven, setting it on the island to cool. She glanced out through the window. Sean remained on the porch step. His relaxed sprawl had tightened into an upright pose and a subtle hunch of his shoulders, but he did not have the phone in his hand.
None of my business, she reminded herself as she set the table for three before delivering the chicken potpie and the mixed salad to the dining table. She raised her voice. “Dinner’s ready, boys. Come and get it.”
Sean came over every evening that week, and Debra fed him dinner. He never asked to stay, but how could she not extend the invitation when Aidan’s exuberance shot up several notches in Sean’s presence. Although training Jewel was a large part of their interaction, Sean’s conversations with Aidan extended to school, hobbies, favorite foods, and random questions that required answers from Wikipedia.
Each morning, Sean showed up at the café with his usual request of five black coffees. That Frida
y, he wore a wider-than-usual grin. “Don’t cook dinner,” he said. “I’m going to bring something over.”
“What?”
“It’s a surprise. Don’t cook anything. I’ll be over at the usual time.”
Debra stared at him. “Okay,” she stuttered the words out as her mind replayed his words. The usual time. In less than a week, Sean had become a fixture.
The openly curious gazes of the café’s other customers fixed on her after Sean had left. “Are you dating him?” old Mrs. Smith asked as she placed her wizened hand over Debra’s.
“He, uh…he’s working with Aidan on dog training.”
“Sounded like more than dog training.” Mrs. Smith patted Debra’s hand and smiled as if at a particularly slow child. “He’s interested in you, girl.”
Was he? “He’s—”
“Got that light in his eyes and the bounce in his step. Dog training doesn’t do that to a guy.” Mrs. Smith winked.
“But he’s new to Havre de Grace, and so much younger than I am.”
“Oh, pshaw.” Mrs. Smith flipped her wrist at Debra. “New means less baggage, and younger means easier to train, isn’t that right, darling?” She looked over her shoulder at the equally old Mr. Smith, who sat at a table, watching over their hot chocolates and croissants.
The old man who was almost deaf in both ears nodded and offered his wife a sweet smile and a thumbs up.
“You deserve a lucky break, dearie, and he might be the one to provide it to you.” Mrs. Smith returned to her table.
A lucky break? Did lucky breaks lead to happy endings, because Debra didn’t believe in those—not anymore.
That evening, Debra sat on the front porch reading and listening for Sean’s now-familiar footsteps on the pavement, but instead, a car pulled up in front of her house, and Sean got out, with several large paper bags in his hands.
Debra rushed down the steps to help him. “What is this?”