Page 13 of #Lovestrong

Declan

Mrs. Deb and I are both semi-covered in flour and laughing way too hard as we make the dough for her homemade pie crust. It's not often I get to help her cook, but honestly, it's so much fun. We've been at it for over an hour and my sides hurt from laughing so hard.

"You want to stick around and help make the pies too, Declan? I mean, unless you have somewhere else to be," Mrs. Deb says as she pulls out several baking tins.

The bell in the front of the shop chimes softly and we both lean in to look through the kitchen door. Lena's walking toward the counter and she's breathtaking. Her hair is in a high ponytail, no makeup on her face, wearing a short sleeve, green shirt with a big white shamrock on the front, and black jeans.

As my eyes roam over her body, they fall on white gauze wrapped and taped around her left forearm just below her elbow.

What the hell happened there?

Mrs. Deb clears her throat and my face heats a little. "I don't have anywhere to be today, Mrs. Deb. I'd love to stay and help if you need me."

"Mmhmm, that's what I figured you'd say."

I playfully roll my eyes as she hands me a can of nonstick spray.

A moment later, Lena walks in and cusses under her breath.

"Watch your mouth, young lady," Mrs. Deb says in a stern tone. "I usually don't say anything, but it's too early for that."

"What the hell is he doing here, Grandma?"

I keep spraying the pans Mrs. Deb lined up on the countertop. I glance up at her as she slides her phone into her back pocket and fidgets with the bandage on her arm, rubbing her fingers over it and picking at the edges of the tape.

My eyes narrow, suspicion bubbling in my stomach. Something isn't right— I just can't put my finger on it. "What happened to your arm?"

She looks down at the bandage before covering it with her hand. "Nothing. I scratched myself. What's it to you?"

"Maybe you should cut your nails, Lena," Mrs. Deb says as she moves around me to the other side of the table to start laying the dough in the pans. "You're going to poke an eye out with those nails."

Lena shuffles from one foot to the other, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I'll do it later, Grandma. What do you want me to work on today?"

"Ah, yes. Your Grandpa and I have to run to the Whole Foods store. We'll be done in about an hour or so. But you and Declan can just follow this recipe right here and work on each of the pie filings. When you're done, set them in the fridge. They have to chill for two hours before we bake them anyway."

Lena rolls her eyes and picks up the piece of paper Mrs. Deb pointed to on the countertop. As she reads it, she constantly rubs and touches the bandage on her arm and it makes me even more suspicious. She doesn’t move until the back door slams shut after her grandparents exit the building.

"Okay," she says. "Looks like we need to pit the cherries first. Can you get them out of the fridge?"

As I walk to the fridge, she reaches under the counter and grabs a large metal bowl. I take a deep breath, knowing I may very well start a war in this kitchen. Throwing the bag of cherries on the table, I quickly grab her bandaged arm.

"Hey, what are you doing," she yells, her eyes going wide.

"What happened to your arm?"

She tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip, trying not to be too rough.

"Oh my God, nothing! Get off!"

I grab the tape and quickly rip the bandage off her arm. Running the full width of her forearm is a thin, precise cut. It doesn't look too deep, but the skin around it is red. There's no way she did that with her fingernail.

She rips her arm from my hand and I let her. As she covers the cut with her other hand, I take a step forward. "Don't lie to me. You didn't do that with your fingernail."

Her chest heaves as she takes a breath. When she looks up at me, her eyes are filled with tears. "Why do you even care? It's none of your business!"

She turns her back on me and my stomach drops. I know an intentional cut when I see one. An ex-girlfriend of mine used to do the same thing, probably still does for all I know. Sighing, I walk over so my body is only inches from her and I want so badly to wrap my arms around her. Something is hurting this beautiful girl, and I just want to help her.

Gently, I lay my hand on her shoulder and squeeze. "Lena, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to upset you, but whatever you're going through, whatever the reason is for cutting yourself, I just want to help."