“Thank you, dearie.” Mrs. Miller shuffled behind Debra and folded her tiny body into a chair by the window—her favorite seat. She spread her napkin over her lap and looked toward the door. “All these new folk…outsiders…are moving in.” She sighed. “Soon, I won’t know anyone.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You’ll always know me, Mrs. Miller.” Debra patted Mrs. Miller’s wrinkled hand.
The old woman smiled at her. “You’re a sweet one; don’t let anyone tell you different.”
Debra returned to the counter and nodded at Sean Orr, outsider and Havre de Grace’s newest firefighter. “What can I get for you?”
“Five coffees. Black and strong.”
“You got the rookie coffee duty, huh?”
Sean’s smile flashed white, slightly crooked teeth that accentuated his boyish charm.
Debra’s heart thumped a quick, irregular beat in her chest as she turned to fill five cups with coffee. If she were ten years younger, she might have fallen for his chiseled good looks and young, muscular body. Lucky me, I’m ten years older and wiser. She knew firsthand how a momentary lapse in judgment could permanently taint the rest of her life, and that of innocent victims, like Aidan. Regardless, she could enjoy the view, and Sean did make for a spectacular view.
“That will be $6.60, please.”
Sean slid the exact change across the counter. “By the way, I’m Sean.”
“Other.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Huh?”
“I prefer my middle name. Other.”
He still looked blank.
“You know, The Other Woman.”
“Oh.” He flushed. “Ray didn’t mean—”
Of course Ray had meant it, but it didn’t mean she had to take it to heart. She continued in the same lighthearted vein. “The is so common, and Woman could apply to at least 50 percent of the population, so I’ve decided to use my middle name: Other.”
“Do you go by anything else?”
“Debra.”
He nodded. “Debra.” Her name flowed off his tongue. “I think I like that name better than Other. I hope it’s okay to call you Debra.”
“Of course. I’m sure—”
A loud crash rattled the café. Heads swiveled toward the kitchen as Debra pushed aside the sliding door. A wide-eyed mutt stood in the middle of the room, amid a mess of muffins and brownies. Aidan was tucked in a corner, his mouth hanging open, but his gaze darted to Debra and immediately turned defiant. “I did it!”
“What is Jewel doing here?” Debra rushed into the kitchen, only distantly aware of Sean coming up behind her. “Why did you bring her here?”
“You didn’t say I couldn’t!”
“I didn’t know I had to say that! I shouldn’t have to say that.” She stared at a day’s worth of baked goods smashed into crumbs on the tiled floor. Tightness clutched at her chest. What was she going to tell Marcia?
A querulous voice came from the front. “What’s happening back there? I’m still waiting to order.”
Debra pressed the damp palm of her hands on her apron and looked at Aidan. “You get this place cleaned up, and then get that dog out of here.”
Aidan’s eyebrows drew together. “She doesn’t like being alone. She gets afraid.”
“I don’t care what she gets. Just clean this up.”
Sean’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go up front? Someone’s got to cover the counter. I’ll give Aidan a hand here.”
Debra opened her mouth, an instinctive refusal on her lips—she knew better than to accept help from a man—but the panic in Aidan’s eyes stalled her. She couldn’t handle the store and her son at the same time. Aidan was within seconds of bolting. If he ran out the door—
Her hands clenched into fists. “Okay, thanks.” She mentally winced at the stiffness in her voice. Sean would think her ungrateful—oh, what the heck, she didn’t have time or reason to care what a man thought of her. “The broom and dustpan are in the closet. Trash can go out the back—”
“We’ve got it, don’t we, kid?” Sean’s firm hand against her lower back propelled her out the door. As the door slid close, she heard Sean address Aidan. “So, you have a name?”
Aidan might have said something, but the sound was muted by the dog’s ecstatic woof.
Debra squeezed her eyes shut. Jewel. What on Earth was she going to do with that dog?
Debra’s shift usually ended at 4 p.m.—allowing her enough time to enjoy the rest of the Saturday—but the baked goods debacle kept her in the store until 6 p.m., mopping the floor and tallying the damage. Her hands trembled as she added the numbers. The lost sales exceeded five hundred dollars.
“It’s going to take me a while to cover it,” Debra said as she handed over the calculations to Marcia during a lull in the café’s activity. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to pay it down over six months.”
Marcia frowned at the numbers. “Do you want to take it out of your weekly check?”
“No, I can’t.” Debra needed her paycheck for the household bills. “I’ll find another way to come up with the money.” Perhaps she could pick up more hours at the clinic.
Marcia nodded. “I’m sorry I can’t help more besides giving you time to cover it. Margins are really tight here at the café, especially on the baked goods.”
“I know. I’m just grateful for the time. I’ll cover it all; don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried, as long as that dog doesn’t come back.”
Debra’s smile wavered. She glanced out the café window where Aidan and Jewel, both banished from the store, sat on the sidewalk. “She won’t be back.” She tucked the piece of paper into her pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Walking out of the store, she waved Aidan over. Her son leaped to his feet and raced to her, Jewel by his side. “What took so long?”
“I had to clean the floor—”
“Sean and I already cleaned the floor.”
Debra decided not to mention the crumbs she had found under the counters and in the corners. Besides, Aidan was right. If not for Sean, the mess would have been far larger than she could have managed, on top of running the café. “You two
