Sweethearts Old

by Rachel A Andersen

  He stomped all the way down the stairs and to the backpack and jacket, dragging them behind him as he glared at her. He ducked his head as he approached her, mumbling something under his breath, and she caught only a few words. Not...boss...me...

  She sighed as she caught his shoulder loosely in her hand and stopped him. “Oh kid, you were so close.”

  He dropped his burdens on the floor again, his chest out and his legs widened in a defensive stance. “What?”

  She studied her son. This wasn’t like him, not really. Sure, they had their difficulties, but he wasn’t usually this angry. Of course, it probably didn’t help that while she worked through whatever regrets she had from her life, she’d been a little touchy herself. “Did something happen at school today?”

  He looked down, trying to avoid her gaze.

  “Got it in one shot, huh? Talk to me about it.”

  She reached for him when she saw the way his eyes puffed and turned red. He was going to cry any minute, but he moved out of her grasp. “It’s fine, Marissa.”

  Her chest ached, making it hard to breathe with the pain. She’d been Mom for almost two years now. To slide backward to Marissa after all this time filled her with exquisite agony at the same time she thought of how badly Aiden must be hurting to lash out at her like this.

  Though tears stung her eyes, they didn’t fall. Instead, she sat on the stairs and reached out a hand to him. One he didn’t take.

  “Was it your teacher?”

  Aiden peeked out from under his messy shock of red hair. Then he shook his head.

  “A problem with one of your classmates?”

  Another nonverbal denial.

  “Something else?”

  Aiden eyed her as if he was trying to gauge her threat level. Then, he picked his backpack up and sat beside her on the stairs. He handed her one of the freestanding papers pressed to the bottom of the bag. She bit back a comment about how he could organize his papers better if he would use the folders she’d bought for him at the beginning of the school year. This wasn’t the right time.

  She smoothed the bright green flyer, crumpled and covered in crumbs from some snack Aiden must have kept alongside the paper, and understanding dawned.

  She wrapped an arm around Aiden’s shoulders. “Donuts with Dad, huh?”

  He elongated a shrug so he could brush at his eyes, trying to play the action off as if it was part of his tough guy act.

  “Did you ask your teacher what you could do if you don’t have a dad to bring?”

  He shook his head.

  As much as Aiden calling her Marissa had hurt, it didn’t compare to how she ached at his pain. “I could call your teacher. Explain the situation. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you brought your mom instead of a dad.”

  His shaggy red hair rustled as he refused again.

  She thought back on what had worked with Cassie when she was still in school and they’d run into these sorts of problems.

  With a mischievous smile, she nudged Aiden’s shoulder. “I could wear a mustache. That would have your entire class laughing, right?”

  He practically jumped off the stairs and onto the landing at the suggestion. “You don’t understand.”

  She chewed on the inside of her lip as a memory played in the back of her head. Ten-year-old Cassie. Three months after their parents’ accident. You don’t understand, Marissa. I can’t go to the Daddy-Daughter dance without a daddy.

  When she’d suggested that maybe Garrett or Steven could take her to the dance, Cassie had thrown Marissa the biggest death glare Marissa had ever seen. It just wouldn’t be the same.

  They’d stayed home and watched home movies together instead.

  She couldn’t offer the same solution to Aiden. That hurt.

  The memory of how Declan and Aiden had laughed and chatted together played over in Marissa’s mind. She’d seen the hunger in Aiden’s eyes for the positive male attention, seen how eager he was to get Declan to be proud of him.

  A complete stranger.

  This was why she’d signed him up for football this year. Why she was scouring the city for a male violin teacher. Though she couldn’t give him a dad, she could at least give him a solid role model of what a man could and should be.

  She pressed her chin against her fist, her elbows poised on her knees, as she looked down at him. “Do you want to go?”

  Aiden looked at her, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know.”

  She dropped her stance and breathed in. “We could always get our own donuts and have a party by ourselves.”

  His eyes brightened at that suggestion. “Could you invite Mr. Pierce?”

  Marissa shifted on the steps. Declan. What message was the universe trying to send her in bringing him into so many facets of her life? That was a question for another time.

  She patted the seat beside her. “Aiden, we should probably talk about Declan.”

  The small beginnings of Aiden’s hopeful look slipped. “I thought he was your friend.”

  “He is my friend, sweetheart. It’s just that his life’s a little complicated right now.”

  “Why?”

  She steepled her fingers as she pondered how to explain it. “He’s got kids of his own, Aiden.”

  “And a wife?”

  She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

  Aiden’s eyebrows ticked upward a fraction of an inch.

  “She died a few months ago.”

  Aiden sat beside Marissa on the step, and she could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. “So, his kids don’t have a mom just like I don’t have a dad?”

  It wasn’t exactly the same situation, but she nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you and Mr. Pierce get married so his kids can have a mom and I can have a dad?”

  Marissa choked on her own spit. “Sweetheart, that’s—I can see why you would think that’s how it works, but there’s more to it than that.”

  “You don’t love him?”

  Another complicated question. “Honey, I’m not sure I can explain it all so it’ll make sense to you right now. Declan and I are old friends.”

  Old friends who kissed the first night they reunited. Old friends with plans for another lunch once life got a little less crazy.

  “Can you at least ask Mr. Pierce if he wants to bring his kids for a donut party?”

  Marissa wanted to tell Aiden that having a donut party with Declan and his kids was a terrible idea. But those eyes.

  “I’ll call him. I can’t promise he’ll agree, but I’ll invite him.”

  Aiden’s eyes sparkled as he leaned in for a hug, all the bitter disappointment from earlier vanishing. “Thanks, Mom.”

  He swiped at his belongings and ran up the stairs.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  AFTER SHE’D GOTTEN Aiden fed and into bed for the night, Marissa picked up her phone and dialed Declan’s number, her stomach churning with anxiety. They’d exchanged a handful of text messages over the last few weeks. Nothing special, just the occasional messages she would exchange with any friend when one or the other would see something that reminded them of the other.

  What hadn’t been like her other friendships had been the way she grinned for an hour after one of those exchanges.

  That was why it was so hard to answer Aiden when he’d asked if she didn’t love Declan. She was beginning to worry she had developed a little crush on her ex-boyfriend. Either that or...

  “Hello?”

  Her mind blanked, and for a second, she panicked. Then she took a breath. I’m an adult. I know how to do this. “Hi, Declan. It’s Marissa.”

  She could hear his mood lift in the tone of his voice. “Hey, Riss. This is a surprise. What’s the occasion?”

  She tensed. Was she going to just dive right in, or was this the kind of conversation you gradually built up to?

  “Uh, nothing too special. Just had kind of a rough day.”

  “Is Aiden okay?”r />
  Her heart warmed at the paternal concern she heard in Declan’s voice. “He’s fine. Thanks for asking. He just got a flyer for a school event called Donuts with Dad.”

  It took Declan a moment before he sighed. “Oh.”

  She stuffed one hand in the pocket of her jeans. “Yeah, he was kind of bummed, but he had an idea that I promised I’d run past you.”

  “I’d be happy to take him.”

  She stepped back, surprised at how readily Declan had come to that conclusion. “Actually, that wasn’t the idea, but you would?”

  Declan’s laugh put Marissa at ease as she sat on the arm of the couch. “Sorry. I guess I jumped the gun. Yeah, if he wanted someone to show up, I’d be happy to help.”

  Was it any wonder why her old feelings were coming back up now? Declan was even kinder at thirty-eight than he’d been at nineteen. “You must really like him.”

  “He’s a terrific kid. What’s not to like?”

  That flutter in her stomach threw up a red flag. His wife died less than a year ago. Don’t even think about falling in love.

  Her heart seemed to whisper, Too late.

  “Well, I’m glad you like him because we’re having a little donut party, and he wanted to invite you and your kids.”

  Marissa’s heart started pounding as the silence stretched several seconds longer than she would have expected. “Declan?”

  “Sorry. I thought you just said Aiden wanted me to bring my kids to this donut party.”

  She bit her nail as the anxiety whirled like a tornado through her brain. What would she tell Aiden? He’d been so upset by the school event that she wasn’t looking forward to telling him that his invitation to Declan had been spurned. “I did. Is that a problem?”

  He cleared his throat. “Not a problem, per se. My kids just haven’t met any of my—”

  “Friends?”

  “We both know it’s more complicated than that. My kids probably don’t even think I have friends except for their uncle Liam, let alone ex-girlfriends. I’m not worried about Luke. He’s gonna love Aiden, and Laney will probably stick close to me, but Tabitha—”

  Marissa stiffened and crossed her arms. “Declan, it’s a thirty-minute breakfast at Dunkin’ Donuts before school next Tuesday morning. It’s not like we’re getting married.”

  The tension was back, thick with a thousand things she wanted to say but probably shouldn’t. She shouldn’t have said the m word. Not if she didn’t want to rehash their breakup.

  Declan took a slow inhale. “Marissa, this is the first time they’ve had to deal with something like this. I’m just being cautious. I thought you of all people would understand.”

  Her lips fell open. Something about the edge in his tone when he said those words made her feel like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. “Me of all people? I thought you said you had no hard feelings.”

  “I don’t—I just—I need you to give me some space.”

  Marissa exhaled and closed her eyes. She needed to give him space? She wasn’t the one who had kissed him. She hadn’t offered to watch his kids play sports or to take them to a school event for parents. She hadn’t asked him to lunch. At this rate, she would be the one nursing a broken heart because she’d allowed herself to be the rebound after his wife’s death.

  She couldn’t say any of that. She knew all too well what it felt like to have two conflicting needs vie for dominion. That was why they’d broken up twenty years ago.

  “Declan, let’s call a spade a spade. You don’t need space from friends. You need them from complicated romances. Maybe we can’t ever go back to being friends after dating in high school. Maybe we shouldn’t even try.”

  Declan didn’t answer, but somehow, she knew he agreed with her.

  “You don’t want your kids to get the wrong idea about us, and honestly, that’s wise. Aiden’s older than your kids, and he just asked me if you and I should get married so our kids can have two parents. The last thing your kids need is for Aiden to say something that makes them think anyone’s trying to replace Angie in your lives. Frankly, I’m a little nervous about what this fantasy of his means for him, too.”

  Declan swallowed. “What are you saying, Riss?”

  He would make her say it again, make her be the one to say what was sensible. “I’m saying that maybe we should pretend we never saw each other at the reunion. Maybe we should end this before it even starts.”

  She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. If he agreed with her, she would lose one of the best friends she’d ever had. For the second time. If he disagreed with her, she would wonder why he couldn’t trust her judgment.

  She would lose again, no matter how things turned out. Just like before. Just like she’d known she would the moment Declan had told her he was recently widowed.

  “That would be awfully convenient for you, wouldn’t it?”

  Marissa’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

  “Twenty years ago, I asked you to marry me, and instead of asking me for space because my timing sucked, you called it quits. You broke my heart that day, Riss, but I moved on. Over time, I realized that you were just trying to protect yourself from getting hurt again. I completely understood why you needed me to leave. Now, you’re back in my life, and I ask for space because I’m a little confused. Not unlike you were twenty years ago. I ask you for some time to figure out what’s going on in my head and in my heart. So, what do you do? You try to end a relationship that we’re not even in.”

  He didn’t yell. He wasn’t angry. Still, his words cut into her. “Declan, I—”

  He didn’t wait for her to finish her thought before he continued. “The worst part, Marissa, is that I knew you were going to do it. The minute Emily told you that my wife had died, I knew that you were going to project onto me whatever damage your parents’ death did to you. I didn’t come to that reunion looking for you or to get back together with you, but the minute you laughed at the mere idea of being married, I knew this was how it was all going to end. Heck, maybe that’s why I kissed you in the diner. Just to get it over with.”

  He didn’t say it, but she could almost hear it in the air between them. This is why I don’t want you to meet my kids.

  Her heart plummeted into the depths of her stomach, her fingers brushing up against her lips. Even now, her lips tingled at the mere idea of that kiss. A kiss which now seemed fake. “I never meant to hurt you, Declan. Not then. Not now.”

  Declan’s voice was soft, hurt. “That’s why I wanted to believe things might be different this time, but apparently I was wrong.”

  Her voice was shaky, and she cursed herself for her weakness. She might have deserved his rancor, but that didn’t keep it from stinging.

  There was a lengthy silence before Declan sighed. “Goodbye, Marissa.”

  Was this really happening? Again?

  That nauseated feeling she’d gotten after Declan’s first teenage proposal came back full force. Only this time, she was sure she was making a colossal mistake.

  She must have been quiet too long because Declan swallowed, audibly. “I really do wish you all the happiness in the world. You and Aiden. You two deserve it.”

  The line clicked before Marissa had a chance to respond. Her mouth worked wordlessly as her breathing grew shallow and jagged.

  This was probably for the best, she reasoned. The last thing either of them needed was for their kids to get hurt when things inevitably ended.

  Marissa’s cheeks wet with tears. If only logic could curb the pain of having one’s heart ripped from their chest.

  Chapter Eight

  Declan

  Declan set the phone on the table, his heart heavy. Regret crept in. Marissa probably didn’t deserve half of what he’d said just now. No, this was what he’d wanted to say twenty years ago when she’d broken his heart the first time. This was what he couldn’t say because of her grief.

  Now that it was his turn to be confused and trying to
find a new normal, he’d lashed out.

  He eyed his wedding ring, resignation bearing down on his shoulders and causing them to lean forward slightly. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  He wasn’t ready to confront these emotions.

  His phone chirped as if in perfect response, and his heart skipped a beat. Though he knew it was impossible, he hoped it was Marissa, hoped she wouldn’t let the last thing he said to her be a half-hearted attempt at well wishes and farewell.

  Mom.

  He put the phone on speaker as he got to work on cleaning the kitchen. With the kids in bed, he might have time to put at least the sink to rights before the morning. “Hey, Mom. A little late over there. Everything okay?”

  “Declan, it’s not even eleven-thirty out here.”

  A begrudging smile tugged at his lips. “I stand corrected. It’s not late in Florida. Practically the new dinner time.”

  He could almost hear her eyes roll as he scraped the last of Tabitha’s green beans into the garbage disposal. “If you must know, I was worried about you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  She clicked her tongue. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  That was her way. She wouldn’t just come out and ask him if he was coping well with Angie’s death. She would ask him what was going on in his life. That way, she didn’t stick her foot in her mouth.

  It was a decent parenting trick. He’d have to remember it when his kids were teenagers.

  He groaned. “You have a sixth sense about these things, don’t you?”

  His mother chuckled. “I think it’s called mother’s intuition, but yes. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Declan was quiet, letting the clanking dishes speak in the stillness as he pondered where to start. “I just got off the phone with Marissa.”

  “Marissa who?”

  He paused for a moment, resting his hands on the edge of the counter. Did he really have to recount to his mother who he was talking about? After all, she was the one to whom he’d turned after Marissa had ended things. She’d even cooked his favorite dinner when he’d come home the day after Marissa’s parents’ funeral with his own broken heart.