A Little Bit of Deja Vu

Laurie

Back to Books A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

Fate thrust them together, then deception kept them apart.

Nineteen years later, their children’s love reunites them.

Now, only truth and forgiveness can make them a family.

Strangling her meddling cousin is at the top of Margie Bradford’s to-do list--right after picking up the pieces of her shattered life following her husband’s death. When her cousin gave her a classified ad for a teaching position in Pennsylvania and encouraged her to make a fresh start there with her teenage daughter, unsuspecting Margie took the job--in the very same school district where the ex-quarterback, who broke her heart nineteen years ago, works.

Divorced teacher and coach Jake Manion experiences an eerie sense of déjà vu when his 18-year-old son tells him he’s gotten his girlfriend pregnant. The feeling simply grows stronger when Jake learns the girl’s mother is the same woman he’s wasted nearly two decades of bitterness on after she aborted his baby.

The resentment in Jake’s gaze confuses Margie. After all, he’s the one who ignored her letter explaining the truth about her abortion. She’s sure he received it since the proof of delivery postcard came back with his signature. Fearing it will make things awkward for their kids, Jake and Margie are reluctant to tell them about their previous relationship--nor do they want to discuss the painful subject. While planning their kids’ wedding and helping them cope with growing up too soon, Jake makes it clear he’d like to pick up with Margie right where they left off--in bed. But she isn’t stupid enough to let Casanova hurt her again, no matter how irresistible his kisses are. Or is she?

CHAPTER 1

“What’d you say”--Margie Bradford choked on the warm chocolate chip cookie that had shattered her willpower--“your teacher’s”-- COUGH--“name is?”

Her throat continued its spasm to expel the lodged crumbs while her daughter Emma slapped Margie’s back hard enough to leave a permanent hand imprint.

Didn’t they cover the Heimlich maneuver in health class anymore?

Then again, it would serve her right if the coroner listed cookies as the cause of her death. The last thing her thirty-six-year-old body needed was more fat and sugar stuffed into it. Since Mike’s death five months ago, her hips had spread like the wings of an albatross.

Emma dashed to the kitchen sink, splashed some water into a glass, and shoved it into Margie’s hand. “You okay, Mom?”

“Yes,” she gasped. Or she would be--just as soon as she confirmed she’d simply suffered from an auditory hallucination.

She gulped the water, inhaling the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate melting in the oven. For the preservation of her waistline, she definitely had to find something besides sweets to reward her students in the future. “Your human development teacher--what’d you say his name is?”

“Mr. Manion.” Her daughter’s light gray gaze narrowed. “Why? Have you met him?”

“No,” Margie squeaked. At least, she sure as heck hoped not. There must be thousands of Manions in the world. Squashing her paranoia, she forced her voice back down the full octave it had risen. “What’s his first name?”

“How should I know?” Emma rolled her eyes. “Do you tell your classes your first name?”

Her daughter had a point. Most of Margie’s junior high students wouldn’t know her name either. Especially with her being new to the district.

“Whatever it is, he’s the only teacher in the whole darn high school who pays any attention to me. My class before his is practically next door, so I always get there early. Mr. M sits and talks to me every day while he’s waitin’ for the rest of the kids.”

Margie pulled the last tray of cookies from the oven and flipped the control dial off. “So how old is he?”

“Ewww”--Emma wrinkled her nose--“It’s not what you’re thinking. He’s just nice to me. We talk about movies, books, what I want to do after graduation.”

“I wasn’t suggesting the man was hitting on you.” Margie held her breath in a futile attempt to force her pulse to return to its normal rhythm. “I was simply trying to get a mental picture of him.”

Yeah, right. And if her daughter didn’t spit out what the man looked like in the next thirty seconds, Margie would expire from asphyxiation rather than death by Toll House cookies.

“I guess he’s a little older than you.” Emma shrugged, brushing her long dark hair back from her face. “It’s hard to tell. All I know is his son, Alex, is an absolute hunk. I’d give my entire CD collection for one date with him.”

It felt good to see her daughter acting like a normal seventeen-year-old again. Regardless of her teacher’s identity, his extra attention was just what the child needed.

Ever since Mike’s 737 crashed the previous spring, Emma had been having nightmares and spent a lot of her free time sleeping. She’d been her daddy’s little princess, and she missed him terribly. Perhaps even more than Margie did--which was a lot.

Cookies might dull her pain during the day, but at night, they just left crumbs in the vacant half of her bed.

Emma’s resemblance to Mike brought a lump to Margie’s raw throat. She swallowed hard and transferred the baked goodies to the wire racks spread over the counter of the center work island. “Okay, so what’s he look like?”

Her daughter filched one of the warm cookies and paced the length of the condo’s kitchen, nibbling it. “Mmm, I’d say his hair’s about the same shade of light brown yours was before Aunt Barbie talked you into the highlights. And his eyes . . .” Her dreamy sigh said her description was of Alex, not her teacher. “They’re like two shimmering pools of mercury.”

“No-o. His dad. What’s he look like?”

Emma did a double take and peered at her. “Why the inquisition about Mr. Manion?”

What could Margie say? That she wanted to know if the teacher was the same guy who’d gotten her pregnant and broken her heart eighteen years ago. “I’m just curious.”

“Actually, he looks a little like daddy--only taller.”

In other words, dark hair and silver eyes. Just like Jake Manion. The bitter taste of dread overpowered the sweet flavor of chocolate lingering on her tongue.

“You’ve probably seen pictures of him when he was younger,” Emma added. “He was a famous quarterback a gazillion years ago. He coaches our high school team now.”

Margie’s knees buckled, forcing her to sink onto one of the stools at the counter. That tidbit of information erased all doubt. Little wonder Emma didn’t know his first name. The media had always referred to Jake as . . .

“Rocket Manion,” Margie whispered.

“So you’ve heard of him?”

One would have to be Amish not to have heard of Jake. Until ten years ago, his face had covered every major sports magazine and had appeared on the boob-tube on a regular basis. He’d played in the NFL for eight seasons and taken his team to three Super Bowls and won two of them before a couple of three-hundred pound behemoths had broken Jake’s back.

“You’ve been in his class for three weeks now. Why on earth didn’t you ever mention your teacher is a sports legend?”

“Why would I?” Emma looked at her is if Margie had taken some mind-altering drug. “You hate football. Anyway, he’s really nice. I’m definitely registering for his Marriage and Family class for the spring semester.”

Great. Margie knew Jake had a son, but she hadn’t realized the boy was so close to Emma’s age.

“How old is Alex?”

“He’s a senior too. Mr. Manion told me Alex was born the night he played his first Super Bowl. So I guess he’ll be eighteen in January.”

Around the same time their baby would’ve been due. Apparently, Jake must have had a grand time the previous spring, buzzing from flower to flower--pollinating.

Emma leaned on the counter and began sketching in her art pad again. “Anyway, it’s not as if Alex would ever notice a little nobody like me. He’s the school’s quarterback and is so gorgeous he can have any girl he wants.”

If the kid looked anything like his father, Margie didn’t doubt his popularity. For the first time in her life, she was grateful the Lord had given her daughter such a shy, quiet personality. If the boy was as sought-after as Emma suggested, it would take a girl a lot more vivacious and outgoing than her to set off Alex Manion’s radar.

Margie slid off her stool and placed the greasy cookie sheets in the sink. It was simply too weird that she and Jake had ended up teaching in the same school distr--

She slapped her hand over her mouth. Wait a minute. Her pain-in-the-A cousin had orchestrated this last May at the same time she’d talked Margie into blonde highlights and using a little of Mike’s insurance money to have LASIK surgery.

Barbara had been the one who’d given Margie the Bucks County classified clipping for her job as a reading specialist.

What had her cousin planned to accomplish with her meddling? Did she think she could atone for landing Margie in Jake’s bed by throwing them together a second time?

With the way Barbara had nagged her to apply for the job and move to Pennsylvania last spring, Margie should’ve known better than to trust her. Except, after Mike died, she’d been in such an emotional daze she’d been lucky to put her shoes on the correct feet.

She just thanked God Jake and she taught at two different schools on opposite sides of the township. Since it was a such a huge district, with any luck, she’d be able to finish out the year without running into him. In May, she’d look for a new position west of the Mississippi.

Or better yet, west of the Rockies.

“So, as I was saying earlier--” Emma’s voice yanked Margie out of her reverie. “--Mr. Manion gave me a quiz to bring home for you.”

A test for her? Great.

Jake had been halfway to getting his masters in psych. How the heck had he ended up teaching--in the Family and Consumer Science department, no less? He could be coaching a pro team or have a position as a football news commentator.

“He wants the parents to complete as much as they can without looking anything up. The point is to give you an overview of what we’ll be learning this year. He’s gonna go over the answers with you all tomorrow.”

Margie snapped her gaze to Emma, creasing her forehead. “Tomorrow?”

“Uh--yeahhh. Remember? Back-to-school night.”

The cookie dough she’d eaten felt like a lump of clay in her gut. On the bright side, at least she wouldn’t have to fake an upset stomach to get out of going tomorrow night.

Click on the titles to read other excerpts

The Most Precious Gift The Memory of You The Right Match

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