Each morning, Sean showed up at the café with his usual request of five black coffees. That Friday, 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?”
“Dinner. I’m preparing dinner.”
“You?”
He feigned hurt. “Don’t sound so surprised. I can cook, too. I’d have cooked at home and brought it over, but it wouldn’t have been as good going on the table.”
Together, they unpacked his groceries, stacking them on the kitchen island. Debra seized a package of meat. “Lamb chops? I love lamb chops.”
He nodded. “Aidan said you did, and as it happens, I can grill a mean lamb chop. I got fingerling potatoes, and if I could snag some of your fresh rosemary—”
“Sure.”
“Awesome. I cheated on the mint sauce, though. Whole Foods has this amazing mint sauce—”
“Whole Foods? Did you go to Baltimore for these?”
“I couldn’t find what I needed here.”
“So you drove to Baltimore to get dinner?” Her voice trembled.
“Yeah—” He looked up at her and stopped short. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset; I’m just…” She pressed her hand against her throat. Her pulse fluttered. “I didn’t expect you to go to all this trouble.”
“Were you expecting fried chicken or pizza?”
Aidan raced into the kitchen. “There’s fried chicken? I love fried chicken.”
“In here, buddy.” Sean tugged a box out of a plastic bag emblazoned with the logo of Chicks2Go, which had a storefront on Main Street. “Got the fries too, just like you asked.”
“Awesome.” Aidan tugged open the box, and looked up at Sean with a faint scowl. “And coleslaw?”
“You need your veggies, bud, and coleslaw counts even though it’s smothered in mayo. Go eat it.”
“Aww, man,” Aidan whined, but carried his box of fried chicken over to the dining table.
Sean shot Debra a glance. “There’s more than enough lamb chops for him, but I figure he’ll have something else to fill him up in case the fancy meal isn’t to his liking.”
“Aidan told you that I liked lamb chops?”
“He said you were always picking them up in the grocery store, and then putting them back.”
“He noticed?” Tears stung her eyes.
Sean shrugged. “He’s a bright kid. He doesn’t always let on about what he sees, but he’s got good eyes and a sharp mind. Hey…” He tugged a paper towel off its roll and handed it to her. “Your kid’s got your back. Nothing wrong with that, right?”
“No, no.” Debra’s voice wobbled between laughter and tears as she dabbed at her eyes. “Nothing wrong at all. I just didn’t expect it.”
“I also got some wine to go with the lamb.” Sean slid a bottle of merlot from a paper bag. “I wasn’t sure if you drank, but I’m told this is pretty mild and should go well with the lamb.”
“I do drink a little.”
“Great. And then for dessert—”
“You got dessert?”
“I cheated again. Tiramisu from Whole Foods.”
“I know how to make tiramisu.”
“Really? I love it.”
“I do too.”
Sean winked. “Finger biscuits, egg yolks, sugar, coffee, mascarpone cheese, and cocoa powder—those are standard breakfast ingredients, assembled differently.”
Debra laughed. “I suppose that justifies eating tiramisu for breakfast.”
“Absolutely.” He grinned. “We’ll have to see how store-bought tiramisu holds up against yours. Do you want the wine while I get the lamb chops going?”
Debra perched on the island, sipping from her glass of wine, while Sean moved around her kitchen, preparing dinner. After a week of helping her clean up after dinner, he seemed to have no trouble finding things he needed in her kitchen; apparently, he was as observant as Aidan was.
“I didn’t realize you enjoyed cooking,” Debra said. “I do, too.”
“I figured it out when I was served one incredible meal after another.”
“It’s simple food.” And usually whatever was on sale at the grocery store that week.
“Put together in pretty amazing ways. Did you ever think of opening your own restaurant?”
Debra laughed. “Oh, where would I find the money for that?” Her smile turned wistful. “It was one of my dreams.”
“Before or after fireman?”
“Oh, after, way after. During college, Holly and I talked about opening a restaurant. I’d do the cooking. She’d manage the staff.”
“And then?”
“And then it didn’t happen. I screwed up, and
