“I told you, I did it, not Jewel.”
“You were on the other side of the room. Jewel was in the middle of the mess.”
“But I’m responsible for her.”
“That you are.” She unlocked the car and ushered Aidan and Jewel into the backseat. The dog sprawled over most of the backseat, squeezing Aidan into a tiny corner. “You’re going to start by finding her a new home.”
“What!”
Debra slammed the door on Aidan, but his vociferous protests started up the moment she stepped into the driver’s seat. “You can’t give her away. She’s my dog!”
“I thought you said you found her in a gutter?”
“I…” Aidan faltered, briefly trapped by his lie. “I did, but she’s my dog now. She belongs with me.”
“She belongs with a family that can afford her.”
“I can afford her.”
“She destroyed $500 worth of brownies and muffins today, and she’s going to be a big dog. Before you know it, she’ll be eating gobs of dog food—”
“She can have my food.”
I can hardly afford your food. Debra bit back the truth and instead said, “Dogs eat different food.”
“I’m not going to give her away.”
“Yes, you are, Aidan. You brought her home without checking with me first. If you had asked—”
“You would have said no. You always say no!”
“With good reason—”
“You always say you have good reasons but you don’t! You never listen when I ask for anything. You always say no.”
Guilt clutched at Debra’s heart. Her cell phone rang, the tune distinctive—deliberately so—and Debra braced herself before accepting the call. “Hello, Peter.”
Peter Warren’s tenor was smooth and melodic, a voice that could make a woman believe anything. Debra had made that mistake once before. “I can’t come by to see Aidan tomorrow,” he said. “You’ve got him, right?”
Her hand tightened around the phone. “He was looking forward to your visit.”
“Well, plans changed. Something important came up.”
“Something important came up the past three out of four weeks too,” Debra snapped. “Do you need a better secretary?”
Peter chuckled. She could almost see the smirk on his face. “I like the one I have. She’s…capable. Anyway, next week. Maybe.”
Aidan leaned forward. “Is it Dad on the phone?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Can you ask him for money for Jewel’s food?”
“No, I’m not going to do that.”
Peter’s voice sounded through the phone. “Do what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” She disconnected the call.
“Why didn’t you ask him?” Aidan demanded. “He would have helped me keep Jewel.”
He’s eight months behind on your child support as it is. “He wouldn’t have.”
“You didn’t even ask. You just don’t want me to have my dog.”
She pulled the car into the driveway. “Aidan—”
“You don’t want me to have anything!” He jumped out of the car, and Jewel, with a loud bark, raced after him, through the side gate and into the backyard.
The pressure flooding Debra’s chest rushed upward to pulse a headache through her skull and moisten her eyes. To heck with the happy ending. All she needed was a lucky break.
Chapter 3
The next day, the sun blazed down light but little heat. Nevertheless, Sean had managed to work up a sweat hosing down the fire trucks. It was yet another rookie job, like buying the coffee, but Sean didn’t mind. It was one way of fitting in with the pace of life in Havre de Grace.
He strode over the rivulets of water trickling across the sloping concrete down to the storm drains. His new sneakers squeaked—it would take a week or two to break them in—and the collar of his new shirt chafed the back of his neck.
My brand new life. It was not as comfortable as the old, perhaps, but it was a heck of an improvement on where the old one was headed.
His cell phone rang, the tone unique. He ignored it and allowed it to go to voicemail, but the sound of the ring had its desired effect. The muscles around his neck and shoulders clenched, locking tension into hard knots. The coffee and scrambled eggs he had that morning curdled in his stomach.
His old life wasn’t safely locked away in his past.
Not yet.
Frustration made him scrub harder at the mud caked on the fire engines. The back-and-forth motion did little to untangle the knot in his chest, but at least it channeled his anger.
Jack’s voice cut through the red haze in his mind. “Don’t take all the paint off.”
Sean straightened. Only then did he feel the tight cramp of his shoulder and back muscles. He grunted, not trusting himself to respond to his old friend.
“You looked like you were hundreds of miles away, like in Elkins, maybe?” Jack leaned his shoulder against the truck. “Don’t go back there, man. You’ve broken away.”
“Have I?” A muscle twitched in Sean’s jaw. “She’s still calling.”
“You’re not picking up.”
Sean shook his head.
“You ever think of changing your number?”
Sean’s faint frown deepened into a scowl.
“Too much like running away?” Jack snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve already run away. Just cut the last tie.”
“I’ve had this phone number for years before I had her.”
“Now you’re being idiotic. It’s just a number. Let it go.”
Sean flung down the sponge. “I’ve lost everything—”
“You chose to give up everything,” Jack corrected. “And it was the right call.”
“Maybe.” Sean’s smile twisted a bitter curve. “But it was still everything.”
“Everything ain’t worth a whole lot when it’s with the wrong person.”
“You’re such a wise ass.”
“Practice.” Jack grinned. He glanced past Sean’s shoulder. “Hey, Aidan. Where’s your mother? You know you’re not supposed to be out and about without her or another adult.”
Sean turned to see Aidan standing on the pavement, his shoulders dragged down by a heavy backpack. The mutt called Jewel stood beside him.
“She knows I’m out.” Aidan’s defiant words were offered in a mutter.
The inconsistency of the response sent a tingle of alarm down Sean’s spine. He and Jack
