Chapter One

“Paige, darling, mommy’s taking you to dance class now. Come along,” Jennifer Devlin called loudly for her youngest daughter, jingling the car keys she held in her hand.

“I don’t want to go!” came the girl’s muffled reply.

“Why dear?” Jennifer was smiling, shaking her head ruefully. She began moving towards the direction of the voice.

“Declan bullies me!” another yell came, this time tinged with defiance.

Jennifer almost wanted to laugh, knowing her daughter’s temperament. Paige made a big deal out of everything, overdramatizing situations. She’d learnt long ago not to believe her daughter’s words so blindly. Paige would probably grow up wanting to become an actress.

She was going to call out again, but then she heard the tell-tale sniff.

Jennifer’s eyebrows rose in surprise. This was definitely a first. Her youngest usually loved her classes. She fairly lived for them. Nothing could stop her from bouncing all over the house before each and every class. You could feel the anticipation weaving out of her in waves.

“Declan’s just a small boy. Come on, I’ll take you there and ask Audrey to get you another partner,” she coaxed soothingly, knowing, as a mother, that this would get her out of her hiding place.

“Really?” The little blonde head popped up tentatively.

Jennifer nodded in confirmation, feeling sympathy when she saw the twin tracks of tears streaking down her daughter’s cheeks. Her Paige had obviously felt a lot of hurt over the boy’s teasing to cry that much.

“Okay then,” Paige gave a small nod of satisfaction, happily certain that she’d gotten her way. She rubbed her cheeks until they turned red. Then, as if in an afterthought, she asked, “Mommy, who’s Audrey?”

Jennifer laughed at Paige’s small innocent face. “Sweetheart, Audrey is Miss Phillips. Mommy calls her Audrey because we’re friends. You call her Miss Phillips because she’s your teacher and she’s so much older than you are.”

Paige gave another satisfied nod, clearly accepting her mother’s explanation.

Jennifer held out her hand, not saying a word yet encouraging the girl with a smile. Paige came to her and took her hand trustingly. She smiled up at her mother.

Once on their way, Jennifer peeked a glance at her daughter. She grinned when she saw Paige pressed up against the window, her nose plastered against the plastic pane. Oh, Paige was going to be just fine if she’d gone back to her normal habits that quickly.

She parked at the first available spot outside the dance school and got out. Paige got out on her side and waited for her mother to come to her.

They went in together. To Jennifer’s astonishment, her Paige took a sweeping look over the room and then made a beeline for Audrey. She watched with amusement when Paige pulled on her teacher’s skirt.

The moment the young teacher looked down at her, Paige demanded, “Where’s he?”

Jennifer could see Audrey struggling to hold back her laughter. She felt so astonished herself that she wasn’t sure whether to go and reprimand her or allow the teacher to handle the situation.

She decided on the latter.

“You mean Declan?” Audrey kneeled on the floor in front of Paige so that she was face-to-face with the little girl.

“Yes, I mean him,” Paige scoffed at the reference to Declan.

Jennifer couldn’t help it; she laughed, then at her daughter’s indignant glare, she disguised her laughter under a cough.

Paige turned back to her teacher. “Well?” she asked demandingly.

“Paige!” Jennifer’s tone was shocked and reprimanding.

Paige subsided visibly and looked meekly at Audrey, her bravado gone. Audrey grinned broadly, raising one eyebrow in Jennifer’s direction.

“Paige, Declan has fallen ill. He can’t come today,” Audrey said gently, knowing how attached the two dance partners were, however much they tried to deny it.

“He’s sick?” Paige blurted out. “How sick?”

“I don’t know,” the teacher shrugged helplessly, “He doesn’t want to go to see the doctor. He says it’s God’s punishment to him for making you cry.”

“Oh no, but I’m all right. You can see that, you can tell him that,” Paige begged, pulling insistently on her teacher’s skirt with both hands.

Audrey suppressed a grin, holding up the waistband of the skirt, lest the child’s relentless pulling would tug it down.

Paige wrung her hands in a show of childish worry. Then, a new thought struck her mind. Her brow creased anxiously. “He isn’t going to die, is he?”

Jennifer was amazed to see the change in her Paige. Just less than thirty minutes ago, she had been adamant in her refusal to go to class just because she had to dance with little Declan. Now she was worried about him. That had to be the fastest turnabout, considering Paige was a small, but very stubborn mule.

“No, I don’t think he will die Paige. It isn’t that kind of illness,” Audrey said gently, trying her best to soothe the agitated girl.

Paige, however, would not let herself be comforted. In the coming fifteen minutes, she managed to “convince” her mother that it was absolutely essential that they go to his house to see how he was.

When Jennifer unkindly reminded her of her temper tantrum earlier, Paige blushed. Her excuse her sudden change of heart was that “she hadn’t scolded him yet”, which, of course, elicited a loud, but hurriedly disguised, laugh from Audrey.

Paige had too much on her little mind to worry about glaring at her teacher, which struck her mother as unfair. It wasn’t fair that she, the mother, had received a glare and yet her teacher, yes, her teacher, escaped unscathed.

Audrey waggled her fingers in a goodbye gesture as Paige insistently pulled hard at Jennifer’s hand. She never let go, heading right for the door.

It was when they were finally in the car that Paige let go, only after Jennifer had reminded her that she needed her hand to drive.

Paige drummed her fingers impatiently against her thighs, tapping her foot against the floor of the car. She kept sitting upright to look out of the windshield, then slump back when she realized they were nowhere near Declan’s neighbourhood yet.

Her small face was awash with worry, her body language agitated.

Jennifer felt a little pang in her heart and wondered if her little girl had grown up a little too fast. She wasn’t even in school yet, merely a kindergarten student. Kindie crushes weren’t all that common. She supposed dancing had played a big part in that, for she knew very well that the two were thrown together a lot, for each and every dance.

“We’re…” Jennifer parked the car, pulling on the handbrake, hard.

She’d barely even started her announcement when Paige threw open the door and ran down the driveway to the front door.

“We’re here, I know!” she yelled back, pulling open the door with the wire netting. She started banging on the bottom glass pane of the wood-bordered door.

Jennifer smiled, seeing her daughter was still too short to reach the upper glass pane.

When Olivia Cunningham, Declan’s mother, came to the door, she stood there, peering out and no one. Apparently. Then the thumping started again and she looked down in surprise.

Her smile of welcome was expected. As far as Jennifer knew, Olivia had a smile ready for just everyone, whether at the dance school, or at the kindergarten, or at her own home.

“Come in, little Miss Devlin,” Olivia smiled, pulling the door open.

The girl rushed in, bothering with her manners. She mumbled a “hello” and then rushed on frantically, “Where’s Declan?”

“Well, he’s upstairs…” Olivia began, but trailed off when Paige left her side and ran for the stairs.

Jennifer walked in too, wincing when she heard her daughter’s elephant-like footsteps heading up to the first floor of the house.

“Hello to you too, Jenny,” Olivia said warmly, closing the door behind her.

“Hi Liv. You’ve heard of the little battle, I suppose?” Jennifer laughed even as those words escaped her mouth.

“Yes. My Declan couldn’t sleep that night. He kept saying ‘I’m sorry, mama’ over and over again. When I found out the reason for his little ‘mood’, shall we call it that?, I wanted to laugh,” Olivia shook her head ruefully.

“I know the feeling. You kept it all inside ‘til it was time for bed, right?” Jennifer guessed, both mothers exchanging knowing looks.

“I waited for Aidan to return from his little company dinner. I told him the whole dramatic story, we had a good laugh and we went to bed happy,” Olivia summarized her evening after the “battle”.

Jennifer laughed merrily, her dimples, so much like her daughter’s, emerging. “We’ll just catch up until Paige’s finished her scoldings and Declan’s done with his ‘I’m sorry’ apologies then.”

“Good idea. But then again, you’ve always had the best ones.”

--

Meanwhile, Paige had had quite a time searching for Declan’s bedroom. She’d gone in door after door, coming across the bathroom, the master bedroom, Olivia’s office, and a small library. She had two more doors left.

“Eenie, meenie, minie, moe,” she pointed from the door to her left to the door on her right. Her finger stopped at the left door, so she went and opened it.

At first, all was silent. Though short, she could see the small night lamp burning on a dresser. She tiptoed in, wanting a closer look at the lamp. She stepped on a creaky floorboard and stopped guiltily.

Her ears perked up, hearing a voice.

“Mama? Is that you?” a hoarse voice called from the bed. “It’s time for my medicine. It’s already nine.”

When no answer came, he spoke again, this time sounding considerably more alarmed. “Who’s there?”

She stepped up to his bed, peeking over the top. Her bright violet-blue eyes met his watery green pair. Those eyes widened in surprise and delight, then became sombre.

She felt a momentary happiness at surprising him, then she felt his mood become sad. Now she felt bad for making him sad and stood at her full height.

“You know, you really are a bad boy,” she said childishly, pouting. She didn’t know how cute she looked to him, her blue eyes sparkling playfully, her blonde hair shimmering around her head like a halo and that pout on her lips.

“I know,” he said seriously. “I’m sorry. Mama said as soon as I got better, I should go to your house and say sorry.”

His serious tone depressed her immensely. “There, now, you’ve said it. I’ve forgiven you already,” she said magnanimously, her pout disappearing and a broad smile replacing it.

“Really?” His voice betrayed childish hope.

“Yes. You’re sick. I don’t want you to die. I wished you would, last week, when you made me cry. It’s all my fault,” the girl blamed herself vehemently. She knocked herself on the head. “Stupid girl.”

She burst into tears, wondering who would dance with her if Declan died. No one could make dancing so much fun, not like him.

“You silly goose.” He found he quite liked saying that. He’d heard his paps say it once, to his mama. He felt grown up and important saying it. “I’m not sick because of you. I’m sick because I made you cry and God wanted to punish me. He wanted to show me that I shouldn’t tease you just because I’m bigger and older.”

“It’s still because of me that way. You bullied me and then you got sick!” she wailed louder. What she did next surprised him, and even herself.

She hurled herself onto the bed, right on top of him and hugged him tightly. The seven-year-old boy smiled and put his arms comfortingly around the shaking shoulders of the little five-year-old.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Mama said I was being silly and God did not make me sick. She told me that my cousin Victor had passed his fever to me,” he explained softly to the distraught girl.

Her sobbing ceased slightly. “So you’re not going to die?” She lifted her head to look at him, her voice quavering tremulously.

“No, of course not. Next week we will be dancing again,” he reassured her. He rubbed her tears away from her cheeks.

He looked at the open door and frowned slightly. “Mama has forgotten my medicine time. Paige, could you bring those three small bottles for me?”

Paige looked over to where he was pointing, spotted the three little translucent bottles and scrambled off quickly.

He felt strangely bereft when she got off the bed and brought his medicine bottles obediently to him.

“Now take the spoon and the plate,” he instructed.

She followed all his instructions, pouring out his medicine onto the spoon one by one with much concentrated care. He sat up to take his medicine. They were down to the last one and he was just closing his mouth over the spoon when the door opened wider.

“Dec, it’s your medicine time. Oh…” Olivia stopped short when she saw the little scene before her.

She began smiling when she saw Paige’s little face flush deeply and her own Declan’s expression turn embarrassed. She listened to her son’s excuses and Paige’s attempted explanations without comment and went back downstairs.

“I thought mama was going to send you down,” Declan said to little Paige, who had pulled a chair up to his bed and was now perched on it.

Her head was resting on her folded arms, laid on his bedspread. “I was scared, but then she just smiled.”

“I felt that way too. Mama once caught a girl in Cian’s room and couldn’t scold him enough after that. I wonder why I didn’t get any of it?” he mused, watching the open door thoughtfully.

“We’re children,” Paige shrugged, as if her little sentence explained everything.

“That might just be it,” Declan smiled at the sleepy girl. Her eyelids were drifting closed, comfortable that all was once again right with the world. Declan wasn’t going to die, he just had a fever. She’d had that plenty of time (actually, she’d had it only once, but once seemed like a lot to a her since she hadn’t started to relate to numbers yet) and she hadn’t died. She would still dance with him next week, they would still be partners. Everything was perfect, set against an imaginary rosy backdrop in her mind.

“Aunty Jenny!” he yelled when he heard her breathing turn steady and slow.

Jennifer heard the boy’s call immediately and went up. She grinned widely at the amusing sight of her Paige sleeping soundly while the sick boy watched over her like a protective hawk. It was technically supposed to be the other way round.

“Take her home. Tell her I will see her next week,” he ordered imperiously.

Her amusement grew. Did these children actually think they could boss adults around? Just earlier, her daughter had been pushing her around, out the door into the car, ordering to take her to Declan’s. She’d even had the daring to tell her to drive faster! Since when had children become so demanding?

“Declan! Say that nicely, or you’ll not have any of the fudge I’m making,” Olivia scolded, sounding astounded by her son’s audacity.

“Sorry Aunt Jenny. I really am sorry for making Paige cry,” he implored earnestly. His way of pronouncing Paige’s name pay-gee, instead of page, added another level to her amusement. His mournful tone probably had 10 to do with Paige, seeing that he’d already been forgiven. Her daughter would never have allowed herself to sleep in the presence on an “enemy”. The other 80 most definitely concerned his mother’s threat of banning him from the fudge.

Her own daughter had a childlike fondness for the sweet treat, so it was no surprise that Declan had a liking for it too.

“Yes, I know dear. Don’t you fret. She’s gonna be all fine now,” Jennifer reassured the boy, patting his thick black curls. “Now go to sleep.”

Her tone brooked no argument and the boy obeyed, snuggling deeper under his blankets. “Yes ma’am,” he said meekly.

At the front door, Jennifer exchanged a warm smile with Olivia. “I’ll see you around.”

“Definitely. I’ve a feeling this isn’t over yet,” Olivia predicted.

--

And how true Olivia’s words were, Jennifer sighed with all the memories washing over her. She stood in front of the sink, hands supposedly washing the dishes; she’d refused her husband’s offer to get her a dishwasher, saying she preferred to do her house chores by herself. Her mind was busy, focusing on other things. She hadn’t noticed that she’d washed the same plate three times already.

In an hour, she would have to get down to the dance school to pick up the two youngsters. Paige and Declan were all excited over the National Dance Championships being held in the city that very afternoon.

Already having won the competition two times, they were considered the youngest contestants ever to have won in two consecutive competitions. Now they were looking to add a third win to their belt.

Bless the two children, they weren’t even there for the title. She was sure her little Paige, who wasn’t quite so little anymore, hadn’t given a thought to the competition. The both of them looked forward to the championship so much because of the fun they knew they would have. It was a joy to see them so obviously enjoying themselves, smiling widely as they danced.

Paige’s bookshelf had been cleared of books to fit in all the dance medals she had received over the years. The Annual Children’s Dance Championships, All England, All Scotland and All Ireland. There were others she couldn’t recall. The bookshelf was filling up rapidly, with most of the medals in gold.

“Honey, isn’t it about time we went to get Paige and Dec?” Ryan, her husband, popped into the kitchen, dangling the car keys from his hand. He smiled, that cheeky grin that she loved.

“I’ll be done it a minute. Go out to the car and wait for me,” she told him, putting the clean plates onto the drying rack and draining the sink. She whipped the apron off over her head and hung it up on a nail on the wall.

“Right, after I do this,” he said, coming to her and trapping her against the counter.

She giggled and tried to free herself, but he tightened his grip around her. “Nice try, but there’s no escaping me.”

He smirked, leaning towards her and giving her a long, thorough kiss smack dab on her lips.

When he pulled back, he laughed at the dazed look on her face. “Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, let’s go.”

“Let’s,” she agreed totally, linking her arm through his.