“Why are fire trucks red?” Good question. I’m not sure I know the answer.
“Why can’t you turn on the siren for us to hear?” Because we’d all go deaf in this tiny space.
“Why do some fire trucks have ladders and others don’t?” Because small town fire departments don’t have big budgets.
Sean looked up and saw Aidan hanging out near the door of the school building, several feet away. He was about to raise his hand to wave Aidan over when another child said, “We don’t like him.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Because his daddy is a bad man. His mommy is bad, too.”
“Who says so?”
“My mommy. She says I’m not supposed to talk to Aidan.”
“I’m sure it’s not catching.”
The child tilted his head. “What does that mean?”
“It means that whatever Aidan’s parents might have done doesn’t have anything to do with Aidan.”
“My mommy says it does.”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t. I’ve been hanging out with Aidan every day for the past week, and I’m still a good guy.”
“You hang out with Aidan?” The child’s eyes went wide.
“Yup, every day. He helps me train my dog.”
The child’s eyes grew even widen. “Really? He helps you?”
Sean nodded and raised his hand to wave Aidan over.
Aidan’s gaze darted to the other children surrounding Sean before he pushed away from the wall and sauntered over. His chin was lifted defiantly, his eyes narrowed; he was a child on the defensive, prepared to bite even before any hand was raised to strike.
“What’s up, buddy?” Sean asked.
“You didn’t bring Jewel.”
“She’ll need more training before she’s ready for big crowds. Maybe in a few months if you and I keep working with her.” Sean nudged his head at the fire truck. “Do you want to check out the driver’s seat? It’s got the best view.”
“Really? I can?”
The little boy beside Aidan chirped, “I want to go too.”
“Aidan first.” Sean grinned at Aidan. “Come on up here.”
Debra looked up through the kitchen window as the school bus pulled to a stop in front of her house. Aidan stepped out, and for the first time, there was a noticeable spring to his step. His usual sullen frown had been replaced by—if not exactly a smile—then at least a relaxed expression, one that seemed content.
“How was school today?” Debra asked as Aidan walked into the house and kicked off his sneakers.
“It was fine. Sean said hi.”
“Sean?” Debra wiped her hands on the side of her jeans. She hoped the even tone of her voice did not betray the fact that her heartbeat had accelerated at his name. “When did you see…oh, fire safety day.”
“He let me sit in the driver’s seat.” Aidan stomped up the stairs and vanished into his room. The door did not slam.
Debra released her breath, a shaky exhalation of air that wobbled as precariously as her heart. She had no words for how amazingly Sean had altered their lives in a week and a half. Aidan was practically a different child.
And as for her, she had been preparing dinner for three people for a week now, and damn if it didn’t feel great.
More than great, it felt right.
Chapter 7
Eight years earlier, on Valentine’s Day, Debra had delivered a red-faced, screaming baby boy. On that day, Valentine’s Day had ceased to be Valentine’s Day for Debra, and had become Aidan’s birthday.
For the past eight years, her only date on Valentine’s Day had been Aidan.
This year, her date was going to be Aidan and ten of his classmates, assuming they showed up.
Debra glanced at the clock on the wall. The party was supposed to have started fifteen minutes ago. Aidan prowled in the front yard, waiting for his classmates to arrive, and on the dining table, the food Debra had laid out grew cold.
They weren’t coming.
“Hey, Aidan,” she called to her son. “Stop kicking at the grass. It’s already dead. Why don’t you go to the backyard and kick a ball around for a while. I’ll let you know when your friends arrive.”
Aidan scowled at her, and Debra’s heart ached at the shimmer of tears in his eyes.
“Where’s Sean?” he demanded.
“He’ll be here. Remember, he told us last night that he’d stop by for a few minutes before he goes to his annual fireman family get-together down at the firehouse. He needs to do that; it’s part of his work.”
“And where’s Dad?”
“I’m sure he’s on his way. He’s just late.”
“I told my friends Dad was going to show up for my party. He promised.”
Debra nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She pressed her hand against Aidan’s back and ushered him through the house and out the back door. She snatched up her cell phone as soon as the door closed on Aidan and called Peter.
The call went straight to voicemail. “Where are you?” Debra tried to keep her tone calm, but she could hear the edge of panic in her own voice. “It’s Aidan’s birthday. I reminded you last week. I reminded you yesterday. You said you would be here. I hope you’re on your way. Aidan’s waiting.”
She hung up as Sean strode along the pavement and toward the front door, a wrapped gift in his hand. She rushed to meet him at the door before he could ring the doorbell. “Hey, Debra.” His smile faded. “What’s wrong?”
“No one else is here.”
“What do you mean?” Sean peeked his head into the silent house. “Where’s Aidan?”
“I sent him to the backyard. I couldn’t bear to see him wait out front and have nobody show up.”
“Where are his friends? He told me he invited his friends.”
“I don’t know. I hand delivered the invitations with Aidan two weeks ago.” She wrung her hands. “No one’s showed up, and Peter’s not here either.”
Sean swore under his breath. “I’ll be back.”
“Wait, Sean, where are you going?” Debra shouted after
