A Little Bit of Déjà Vu Read online

  A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

  Laurie Kellogg

  CreateSpace (2012)

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  Sometimes destiny has the last word (and laugh) Fate thrust them together Blackmail and deception tore 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 widow MAGGIE BRADFORD’s to-do list — right after picking up the pieces of her shattered life following her husband’s death. Her mission is to stamp out teen illiteracy, so when her cousin gives her a classified ad and encourages her to make a fresh start with her teenage daughter, unsuspecting Maggie takes the reading specialist job. The last thing she expects to discover is her new school district’s head football coach is the ex-NFL quarterback and Dr. Phil wannabe who broke her heart nineteen years ago. Divorced teacher and psychologist 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.

  About the Author

  Laurie Kellogg is a two-time winner of the Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® award, winner of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association® Zola award, and a Romantic Times® American Title I finalist. She began writing to avoid housework and has since resorted to naming the dust-bunnies that multiply as fast as real rabbits while she plots love stories that are steamy, heartwarming, romantic fun!

  A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

  Winner of the Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® Award

  and

  Winner of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association® Zola Award

  by

  Laurie Kellogg

  A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

  By Laurie Kellogg

  Digital Edition

  Copyright 2012 Laurie Kellogg

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations. Thank you for respecting this author’s hard work.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are used only to provide authenticity and are used factiously. All other characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance between the novel’s characters and setting and actual individuals or places is completely coincidental. All inaccuracies or mistakes are the author’s fault and accidental. The author apologizes for any factual discrepancies or typographical errors. If you find any, please contact the author so she can correct them for future copies.

  http://www.LaurieKellogg.com

  Edited by Gwynlyn MacKenzie

  Proofreaders

  Virginia Clemens

  Heidi Luchterhand

  Elizabeth Walls

  Acknowledgements 4

  Prologue 5

  Chapter 1 10

  Chapter 2 22

  Chapter 3 33

  Chapter 4 43

  Chapter 5 54

  Chapter 6 66

  Chapter 7 78

  Chapter 8 89

  Chapter 9 102

  Chapter 10 115

  Chapter 11 127

  Chapter 12 142

  Chapter 13 155

  Chapter 14 167

  Chapter 15 179

  Chapter 16 192

  Chapter 17 206

  Chapter 18 222

  Chapter 19 235

  Chapter 20 248

  Epilogue 257

  About the Author 262

  Excerpt from The Memory of You 263

  Coming soon 302

  Acknowledgements

  Dedicated to my mother and late father.

  I love you Mom / I miss you Dad

  Perfect parents don’t exist. Their mistakes—usually motivated by love—often come back to haunt them when their children repeat history.

  First and foremost, I praise God for giving me the imagination and ability to write. So many people have contributed to my writing career and helped mold me into the author I’ve become. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank:

  My husband who’s given me more support than any writer could hope for, and who is the kind of man who inspires all of the best characteristics of the heroes in my stories

  My son, not just for his encouragement and marketing advice, but for blessing me with the best daughter-in-law any woman ever had, who gave me an adorable grandson

  My wise daughter who never doubts me and who did me the favor of marrying a wonderful man, who is also a talented author

  My mom, who gave me the love of reading and who never lets me forget there are other things in life besides writing

  My late father and my dear friend, Sheri. Both of you believed in me but left us too soon to share in my joy. I miss you both every day.

  My most faithful cheerleaders, my sister and sisters-in-law

  My nieces and nephews, who motivated me to keep going and compelled me to set an example of perseverance

  My brother and brother-in-law, who never considered my writing a hobby

  My previous neighbor and good friend who convinced me to join RWA® and begin to write

  My critique partner and sister-of-the-heart who never lets me down in pointing out why my babies aren’t pretty enough for the runway

  My beta-readers and good friends

  Romance Writers of America® and all its generous members who helped me learn to use the talent I was blessed with

  The members of the RWA® chapters Bucks County Romance Writers, New Jersey Romance Writers, and The Golden Network

  All my Golden Heart® friends from 2004, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2010, and 2011—especially my 2009 Ruby-Slippered Sisters who I share a multi-author blog with at http://www.rubyslipperedsisterhood.com

  A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

  Prologue

  “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 handprint.

  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. Since Dan’s death five months ago, her hips had spread like an albatross’s wings.

  Emma dashed to the kitchen sink, splashed 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 suffered from an auditory hallucination.

  She gulped the water, and inhaled the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate melting in the oven. For the preservation of her waistline, she 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. “Someone probably mentioned it, but I forget. Do you tell your classes your first name?”

  Her daughter had a point. Most of Margie’
s middle school students wouldn’t know her name, either—especially since she was 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 waiting 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 being nice. We talk about movies, books….what I want to do after graduation. Stuff like that.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting the man was hitting on you.” Margie sucked in a deep 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 a date with him.”

  Seeing her daughter act like a normal seventeen-year-old again warmed Margie’s heart. Regardless of her teacher’s identity, his extra attention was just what the child needed.

  Ever since Dan’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 Dan brought a lump to Margie’s raw throat. She swallowed hard and transferred the baked goodies to the wire racks spread across the center work island. “Okay, so what’s he look like?”

  Her daughter filched a warm cookie and nibbled it, pacing the length of the condo’s kitchen. “Mmm, I’d say his hair’s about the same shade of light brown as yours before Aunt Barbie talked you into the highlights. And his eyes....” Her dreamy sigh said her description was of Alex, not his father. “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 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, and she sank onto one of the counter’s stools. 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 covered every major sports magazine and appeared regularly on the boob-tube. He’d played in the NFL for eight seasons and taken his team to three Super Bowls, two of which they won, before a couple of three-hundred pound behemoths broke his back.

  It was only natural Emma hadn’t recalled his first name. Ever since Jake had streaked sixty-yards for his first NFL touchdown, he’d been Rocket to the media and all his fans.

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

  “Why would I?” Emma looked at her as if she suspected 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. With any luck, he’ll tell me some more stuff about Alex.”

  Wonderful. 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 he 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. “Anyway, it’s not as if Alex would ever notice a nobody like me. He’s the first-string 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.

  But what if, God forbid, he did notice her?

  She could always pack her daughter off to an all-girl boarding school for the rest of the year.

  Except that was exactly what her controlling mother would’ve done. Katherine Hunter had kept such a tight rein on Margie she never even had a date before she married Dan. Or since he died, for that matter.

  The only time Katherine permitted Margie out of her sight had been the single weekend Margie visited her cousin at college to tour the campus of one of the few schools her mother was willing to chip in on the tuition. A last-minute change in her work schedule was the only reason Katherine had allowed Margie to attend her preadmission interview without a chaperone.

  Margie absolutely refused to follow in her mother’s footsteps, controlling every moment of her daughter’s existence. She didn’t want Emma blaming her for ruining her life the same way Margie’s overbearing mother had destroyed hers.

  Or for her daughter to leave home and never return.

  All she could do was pray Alex would never ask Emma out. Of course, if the boy’s attention span was anything like his old man’s, even if Alex developed an interest in Emma, it would only last four days.

  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-double-S cousin had orchestrated this last May at the same time she’d talked Margie into blonde highlights and using a little of Dan’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 hoped meddling would accomplish? 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 her cousin was up to something. Except, after Dan 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 the district was so spread out, with any luck, she could finish 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? That was just peachy.

  Jake had been halfway to getting his masters in psych. How the heck had he ended up teaching—in the Family an
d Consumer Science department, no less? He should be coaching a pro team or exploiting his jaw-dropping good looks as a television football 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?”

  “Uhh—yeahhh. Remember? Back-to-school night?”

  The cookie dough she’d eaten settled 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 attending that little soiree.

  Chapter 1

  June—eight and a half months later....

  “What do you mean you got Emma pregnant?” Jake Manion stared across the diner’s booth into a pair of silver eyes identical to his. He flinched at the clatter of dirty dishes the busboy dropped behind him.

  “Exactly what didn’t you get about that, Dad?” Alex shrugged his broad quarterback shoulders. “I’m gonna be a father.”

  The previously appetizing aroma of coffee and fried onions turned Jake’s stomach. A father? His son wasn’t done being a kid yet. He gazed out the window in a futile attempt to draw some serenity from the green rolling hills. “How the hell did this happen?”

  “You’re the Human Development teacher.” Alex snorted. “You tell me.”