Inflamed: A Love Letters Novel

life’s magical moments wasn’t difficult; holding on to them was.
Aidan had been unusually high-spirited and animated all evening—no doubt entirely due to his new furry best friend—and finally settled down an hour past his bedtime. Debra went to bed shortly thereafter, but a dog’s yelping howl yanked her out of sound sleep. A second later, thunder rattled the house. She flung the covers aside and ran to her bedroom door. In the corridor, a trembling bundle of fur huddled in front of Aidan’s closed door.
Debra’s heart melted as soft puppy eyes turned up to her. She leaned down, gathered Jewel into her arms, and carried the dog back to her room. Jewel sagged against her and snuggled close as she sat on the bed. “I’m surprised Aidan didn’t flat out disobey me on your first night here and let you into his room.” She stroked the soft fur on the back of Jewel’s neck. “You be quiet now, okay? I need to get my rest.”
Jewel huffed as if she understood and curled into a ball at Debra’s side. Perhaps the dog slept, but for several minutes, Debra stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts whirring over squeezing a dog—the whelp of an Irish wolfhound and a St. Bernard—into her already razor-thin budget. Where on Earth was she supposed to find the money to make sure Aidan could keep his dream?

Chapter 2
Debra awoke at the first light of dawn to find a cool indention on the mattress next to her. A peek through the open door of Aidan’s bedroom showed Jewel sprawled over Aidan’s feet. The dog thumped her tail and sat up, her tongue lolling. Debra chuckled; Aidan must have woken in the night and opened his bedroom door for Jewel.
She smiled at the dog. “I’m getting breakfast. Want any?”
Jewel scrambled off the bed and landed in an ungraceful heap on the carpet.
“Four left feet, huh?” Debra stroked Jewel’s head before heading to the kitchen. She peered into the refrigerator, aware of the thump of Jewel’s tail against her calf. There was some leftover chicken, but it was supposed to be reheated for dinner that night. Debra glanced at the dog. “I suppose Aidan and I can have beans and rice tonight.” She warmed the chunks of chicken to room temperature in the microwave before offering them to Jewel. The puppy’s tentative sniff transformed into gulping swallows. The food vanished in seconds.
“That’s all, folks.” Debra flung up her hands. “But don’t worry. I’ll have Aidan buy you some real dog food today.”
She scraped butter and strawberry jam over her toast, and prepared a ham and cheese sandwich for herself and Aidan. It was Saturday, and he would have to accompany her to Coffee Beans Café for her shift since there was no one else to watch him at home. On those days, she packed a lunch for the both of them; her perks at the café included discounted food and drink, but it was still cheaper to bring lunch from home.
Every little bit of savings helped.
She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave and shouted up the stairs. “Aidan, we have to leave in thirty minutes. Get moving.”
A loud grunt from Aidan’s bedroom confirmed Aidan was awake. The dog scrambled up the stairs as Debra’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID; it was Marcia, the owner of Coffee Beans. “Hey, Marcia. What’s up?”
“I’m running late today.” Marcia sounded frazzled. “I can’t open up the store. In fact, I don’t think I can get there before noon. The deliveries will be arriving in about fifteen minutes though. Can you open up and meet them?”
“Yes, of course. I can be there in ten. It’ll be fine.” Debra hung up and strode to Aidan’s room. Her son had flung aside the blanket, but made little progress otherwise. “Hey, look, I have to get in early. I’m leaving now. I’ve got your lunch with me. Can you get dressed and come over on your own?”
Aidan grunted.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
Aidan’s head nodded. His foot twitched.
Debra stared at her son’s supine form. Aidan had made the trip to the café many times before. It was Havre de Grace; children were safe on the streets in this little town where no one had secrets—at least none that everyone else didn’t know. “Come in through the back door, all right? You can stay in the office and do your homework.”
Aidan grunted again and swatted her away.
“Don’t take too long waking up,” she said and scurried away, leaving Aidan and the puppy nestled on the bed.
The next hour passed in a blur of activity. She reached the café a minute after the delivery van, which had apparently chosen that day to be early. The next half hour was spent carting the freshly baked goods into the cafe and setting out the counter displays. The espresso and coffee machines bubbled and hummed. Water sloshed. The satellite radio chirped out the latest chart-topping hits. Debra tapped her feet and sashayed to the music. She didn’t try to sing. Some things just weren’t done, not even when one was alone.
At 8 a.m., she flipped the sign on the door to “Open.” Her first customer, Billy Madden, stopped by for his usual cup of coffee a minute later. Within ten minutes, half of the tables were occupied and the café bustled with traffic.
A solid half hour after she had expected Aidan, the door separating the café from the kitchen slid back, and Aidan’s head popped out. He did a waving gesture with his hand and vanished. The door closed on him. Debra relaxed. She hoped he had locked the house door on his way out, but even if he didn’t, it was Havre de Grace. Everyone knew they didn’t own much worth stealing.
She filled an order for elderly Mrs. Miller who liked her coffee mixed with hot chocolate, with a croissant on the side. “I’ll take it to the table for you,” she