“I see…” Sean tried not to brighten as inspiration struck. “If you ran away, things would definitely not be fine. Your mother would be even sadder.”
“But why?”
“Because she loves you.”
“She won’t let me keep Jewel.”
“Jewel is a big dog, and big dogs can cost a lot of money because they eat so much. But I know your mother loves you. She makes your meals; she’s on your case about homework—”
“That’s not love.”
“That’s love, Aidan. That’s love in its purest form. There’s nothing in it for her. She’s doing it because it’s good for you.”
The frown on Aidan’s face did not vanish, but a thoughtful gleam appeared in his eyes. “But she still won’t let me keep Jewel.”
“Why don’t you let me keep Jewel?”
Aidan’s gaze locked on Sean’s face. “What?”
“Just for a while until you can train her to behave properly and not upset muffins and brownies trays. You can come by and see her every day, or I’ll come by with Jewel and see you every day. She’ll be your dog, just not living at your house at night.”
“She’s gonna get lonely without me.”
“I’m sure she will, but when you’re at school, she’ll be at the firehouse during the day with me and the other guys. We need a mascot, and she’ll make an awesome mascot.”
Aidan’s face brightened. “Really? You’ll take her around to all your fires and stuff?”
“Only if we can train her to stay at the fire engines when we go into a burning house. We wouldn’t want her to get hurt.” Sean patted Jewel. “She’s young and she’ll be easy to train.” I hope. “You’re going to do that, aren’t you?”
“Train her?” Aidan beamed. “Yes, sir.”
“Sean. It’s just Sean.”
“Okay.” The flashing smile suddenly faded. “Are you going to take her now?”
“No, not right now. I’ll come to your place this evening, after your mom is home. I think she would want to know that Jewel has a good temporary home.”
Aidan shook his head. “No, you can’t tell Mom you’re the pretend home. She’s not going to like that.”
“You want me to lie to your mother?”
“Just for a little while.” Aidan looked up pleadingly. “You need to tell her you’re the real home, and that you’re coming to hang out with Jewel because you like me, or something.”
Sean chuckled. “Okay, that’s easy. I can do that.” He ruffled Aidan’s hair. “I’ll be done with my shift at the firehouse before dinner, and I’ll come over to your place. Why don’t you head home and hang out with Jewel until this evening?”
“I can totally do that.” Aidan heaved his backpack onto his shoulders and raced down the street, Jewel loping alongside him.
Footsteps sounded behind Sean. Jack’s voice cut through Sean’s thoughts. “Whatever fast-talking you did to send that kid home obviously worked. Debra would be devastated if Aidan ran away. No one else would miss him though.”
“Really?”
“Kid’s a troublemaker at school. You know the type: chip-on-the-shoulder.”
“What’s the story on his dad?”
Jack snorted. “Guess it ain’t gossip if it’s true. About nine years ago, Debra slept with her best friend’s fiancé and got pregnant with Aidan.”
Sean’s eyes widened. “Really. So that’s how she…?” He shook his head sharply.
“Got her name—The Other Woman? Yeah.”
“So what happened to the fiancé?”
“Landed up with neither. Peter’s an arrogant prick. Always thought he was too good for Havre de Grace. He lives in Baltimore now, and he rarely shows his sorry face around here.”
“Must have been tough for Debra, raising Aidan here.”
“Where else could she go, but sure, it was tough. Everyone took Holly’s side.”
“The best friend?”
Jack nodded. “Holly got married a few months ago—”
“Not to Peter.”
“No. She married James, the principal of the elementary school, and they moved to North Carolina. In the end, I think the two girls made up. Holly was Aidan’s first grade teacher, and after Holly and James got together, Holly was always running over to Debra’s house like she used to, way back when they were still best friends.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Not sure it was enough to make up for all those years, or for all the crap Debra’s still taking over that one thing she did that one night. Having the kid wrecked her life, that’s for sure.”
Chapter 4
Excited barks welcomed Debra home. She bent to stroke Jewel’s furry head and received wet licks in return. Guilt wrenched at her heart, but her drained bank account and overstrained credit cards anchored her when she might have wavered and given Aidan the dog.
Just because.
Just because children—her child—needed happiness, and she had run out of ways to provide it.
Aidan’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. His tousled blond head appeared moments later, his face set in neither a smile nor a frown. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sean’s going to take her.”
“Sean?” For several moments, Debra racked her brain, trying to think of who in Aidan’s class was named Sean. Had she misheard? Had Aidan said Sam—
“Sean the fireman.” Aidan scowled.
“Oh.” The image of the tall young man with the charming half-smile immediately came to mind. “I know Sean. He said he would adopt Jewel?”
Aidan nodded. “He’s coming over in the evening to pick her up.”
Debra felt her head nod even though her thoughts spun. Aidan had really found a home for his dog. It was the last thing she had expected. She had braced herself for days, even weeks of argument. She had even had the niggling fear that Aidan might try to run away with Jewel, but apparently, her fears had been unfounded.
How could I have so badly misread my son?
He’s growing up. Taking responsibility. The proud ache in her chest spread her lips in a smile. “I…I’m sure Sean is going to give Jewel a wonderful home.”
“He says she’s going to be the firehouse mascot.”
“That’s a big job for a little dog, though I’m sure she’ll grow into it. I’m going to get dinner started. Can you keep Jewel occupied till Sean gets here?”
“Sure, come on.” Aidan headed to the front yard, Jewel dancing by his heels.
Debra leaned against the kitchen window and watched her son play tug-of-war with his puppy. His eyes gleamed as he threw back his head and laughed, flashing white teeth and a broad grin. The unvarnished joy on his face made guilt coil into tight, hard knots in her stomach.
Had she tried hard enough to give Aidan what he wanted, or had she dismissed it out of hand—one more unwelcomed burden on top of all the others she carried?
If she hadn’t screwed up, her life would have been different. She would have been able to given Aidan a great deal more.
But if she hadn’t screwed up, she wouldn’t have had Aidan in the first place.
She would have missed out on eight years of joy—and frustration, admittedly, and lots of moments of despair—but in that moment, watching him laugh and play, she remembered the joy of holding him for the first time, the joy of kissing his cheeks each night before tucking him into bed.
Each day wasn’t all sunshine and laughter, but looking back, she remembered more happy moments than sad, so it must have been all right.
A niggling voice told her she had a selective memory.
Perhaps she did, but she was fine with it.
Debra grabbed vegetables and chicken from the refrigerator and was in the process of preparing dinner when she caught a glimpse of movement outside her house. Sean strode along the sidewalk and paused in front of the yard, before kneeling to greet an exuberant Aidan and Jewel.
Amazing. The inexplicable ache settled in Debra’s chest once more. She ha
d never seen Aidan so open and friendly around a man before. For a brief, crazy moment, she indulged the fantasy of Aidan’s father, returning from work—the reunion between father and son out of proportion for the few hours that had passed but entirely in line with the amount of love between them.
If only.
Pasting a smile on her face, she went to the door. “Hello, Sean.”
“Hi, Debra.” He paused at the lower step. “Aidan’s probably told you I agreed to adopt Jewel. I’m here to pick her up.”
“He did. I didn’t realize you were looking for a dog.”
“I grew up with dogs, though I haven’t had one for several years now. It’s time to start back up.”
“Well, thank you, then, for giving Jewel a home. I don’t know if you know, but she’s part Irish Wolfhound, part St. Bernard.”
Sean laughed. “Yeah, I’d heard. I’m trying to imagine what she’s going to look like fully grown, but I’m sure my imagination isn’t entirely up to the task. Does she have any…supplies?”
“Uh, not much.” Debra flushed. “We’ve only had her for two nights, and I haven’t had the time to get her settled yet. There’s a small pack of dog food I bought yesterday morning; she’s already halfway through that.”
Aidan pushed his way into the house past Sean and Debra, the motion bumping them together. “I’ll get it.”
Debra swallowed hard at Sean’s sudden proximity and the rush of body heat. She stepped back quickly, smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and then wondered what else to do with her hands.
Sean appeared not to have noticed. His gaze was on Aidan. “That’s a great kid. Lots of energy.”
“Yes, he…keeps me occupied.” She glanced toward the kitchen, hoping that the familiarity of her surroundings would steady the rapid pounding of her heart. It didn’t. “I was just preparing dinner. I should get back to it before it burns.”
“Doesn’t smell like it’s in any danger of burning.”
His voice was neutral, even lighthearted, but Debra heard its subtly wistful edge. She had heard it often in Aidan’s voice and her own; she could not have missed it in someone else’s. Her thoughts raced—she could add more pasta and gravy; it would stretch the smaller portions of chicken and vegetables to feed three. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
His eyes brightened, but his answer was polite. “Oh no. I don’t want to impose. I came over only because I just got off work.”
“Well, unless you have a warm meal waiting for you at home, you’re most welcome to stay. Aidan.” She raised her voice. “Can you please set the table for three?”
“You’re staying for dinner?” Aidan’s cheerful voice rang out. “That’s cool.”
Debra smiled as she added another portion of pasta and gravy to the meal. How could something as simple as Sean staying over for dinner charge Aidan with that much enthusiasm? Whatever it was, Aidan’s mood remained exuberant through the meal. The conversation focused entirely on dogs, and Aidan seemed to have no trouble keeping track of the many dogs who had played the role of Sean’s best friend over the years.
“So who came after Joey?” Aidan asked as he dragged a slice of bread through the last drippings of gravy on his plate.
“After Joey, there hasn’t been anyone else. And now, it’s Jewel.”
“But you said you had Joey when you were twenty, and now you’re—”
“Twenty-five.”
Debra stifled a sigh. Sean was so young. As young as Peter had been when— She bit down on her lip and hoped she hadn’t flushed.
Sean’s gaze flicked to her for a moment, but returned to Aidan as the boy kept talking.
“So why didn’t you have a dog for—” Aidan counted his fingers. “—five years?”
“I dated a girl who said she was allergic to pet dander. Do you know what that is?”
Aidan frowned his way into a squint. “Like pet fur?”
“Actually, it’s more like skin cells. Even dogs without fur shed dander.”
“There are dogs without fur?”
“Ever seen a Chihuahua?”
“Allison has one. It looks like a mouse. A big mouse.”
Sean chuckled. “That’s an accurate enough physical description of a Chihuahua, except the ones I knew had attitudes as big as lions. Anyway, my girlfriend then was allergic to pets, so I had to give Joey away.”
Aidan’s eyes widened. “You gave Joey away?” A look of betrayal flashed across his face, and his gaze darted to Jewel.
“Joey went to live with my sister and her husband on a large farm in West Virginia. He had a grand old time chasing squirrels and deer. He’s buried there, under an oak tree. My sister’s children even carved out a headstone for him.”
“So he was happy.” Aidan sounded relieved.
“I think so.” Sean smiled. “I visited him often, but he never seemed to want to come home with me. He loved my niece and nephew.”
“That’s okay, then. But you promise not to give Jewel away, right?”
“I promise.”
Aidan released his breath in a sigh and rose from the table.
Debra spoke up. “Take your plate to the sink.”
Aidan did as he was told before escaping to the yard with Jewel.
Debra smiled. “Thank you for putting up with him.”
“Life comes around, you know? According to my mom, I was a nosy little thing—always full of questions. Now I’m paying back my debt to society and to all those adults who patiently answered my questions.”
“I never realized it was possible for a family to have that many dogs. It sounds like your house was always full of them.”
“Living out in the country, it was almost a requirement. All of them were mutts, their bloodline so muddied, they could have been related to cats or donkeys, and we wouldn’t have known it. Jewel here is the closest I’ve come to owning a pureblood dog, and she’ll probably grow to be bigger than any dog I’ve ever owned.”
“Any favorites?”
“Jasper. The first.” Sean smiled. He reached for his mug and took a sip of hot coffee. “The first is always special, you know? He was four when I adopted him—an adult rather than a puppy. He was good for me; he was steady and probably had a better head on his shoulders than I had on mine at that time. I would have landed up in worse scrapes if not for him.”
“Jasper. Joanie, Joey, and now Jewel.” Debra smiled. “Guess it’s meant to be.”
Sean chuckled. “I didn’t see it that way, but yeah, I guess I have a thing for J names.” He pushed to his feet and reached for her empty plate.
“I’ve got it,” she said. She reached for her own plate, and their fingers brushed. The shock of contact sparked through her.
Sean jerked his hand away. “Static. Sorry. It’s what I hate most about winter.”
Their eyes met.
It hadn’t been static, and they both knew it.
Slowly, Debra placed her hands safely on her lap as Sean added her plate to his pile of dirty dishes. “You’re not one of those people who have a set way of loading the dishwasher, right?”
“Of course I do.” Debra managed a shaky laugh. “But I’m not too old to be flexible.” Old? Damn it! Why had she said that? She was thirty-two. Sean was twenty-five. She did not need to point out these age differences, especially when nothing was going to happen.
It was ludicrous to even imagine it.
Why? Just because he’s the first man in nearly a decade to have dinner with me without my past getting in the way? Because he’s the first man in years to speak to Aidan like he’s not just a waste of oxygen?
She wiped down the stove and the island while Sean loaded the dishwasher. For several minutes, the only sound was the clink of sturdy dishes and flatware above the rush of running water. He wiped his hands on the side of his jeans and turned to her. “That was a great dinner; thank you.”
She smiled. “It was just something simple.”
“I don’t get home-cooked m
eals 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.
Inflamed: A Love Letters Novel Page 3
