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  “Okay,” she said, then drew a steadying breath. “First thing we do is wash our hands.”

  As they all turned toward the double sink, Cedar was acutely aware that Mark was behind her…very, very close behind her.

  “I’ll go first and get out of the way,” she said quickly.

  Oh, Cedar, she admonished herself, as she dried her hands on a towel. Would you please get it together before you make a complete fool of yourself?

  She reached into one of the sacks now sitting on the counter and removed a bright blue square of material.

  “This is your chef’s apron, Joey,” she said. “All famous chefs wear aprons, you know.” She shook it out to reveal the bright orange Garfield the Cat on the front. “How’s this?”

  “Cool,” Joey said.

  Cedar slipped the apron over Joey’s head and tied it in the back.

  “I don’t want to get stuff on it,” Joey said.

  “That’s what aprons are for, sweetie,” Cedar said. “It doesn’t matter if it gets messy.”

  “Yes, it does,” he said, nearly shouting. “’Cause then it will be yucky, and you might tell me to throw it away or something, and I won’t have it anymore, and it will be gone forever.”

  “Hey, buddy,” Mark said, “calm down. You can keep the apron even if it gets stained.”

  “Promise?” Joey said.

  “Promise,” Mark said.

  “Well…okay then,” Joey said.

  He’s so fragile, Cedar thought, her heart seeming to melt as she looked at Joey, who was smoothing the front of the apron. It will be gone forever. He’d lost his parents and couldn’t bear the idea of losing anything else, not even a gaudy little apron. Oh, Joey.

  Cedar looked at Mark over the top of Joey’s head and their gazes met, his expression telling her that he’d understood the meaning of Joey’s outburst.

  “There’s a lot of work to be done here,” Cedar said, still looking directly at Mark.

  “No joke,” Mark said, frowning.

  “Yeah, we gotta cook a big ol’ dinner,” Joey said. “Are you gonna write stuff down, Uncle Mark?”

  “What?” Mark said. “Oh, sure, you bet.”

  The project began.

  With Joey kneeling on a chair next to Cedar, the chicken was rinsed, placed on a baking sheet, then coated with barbecue sauce that Joey spread with a butter knife with exacting care.

  Potatoes were scrubbed, punctured with a fork, then wrapped in foil and placed on the second shelf of the oven below the tray of chicken.

  As delicious aromas began to waft through the air, a tossed salad was prepared and sprinkled with Italian dressing.

  Mark made a big production of writing down the directions for all that was being done as Cedar chatted with Joey. She learned the name of his teacher, that he liked science but hated math, that lunch in the cafeteria was sorta gross but not too bad some days, and that girls were weird but there was a boy named Benny who might be his friend but maybe not.

  “Benny has a mom, but not a dad,” Joey said, as he folded paper napkins, “’cause last year his dad said he liked a different lady better than Benny’s mom and they live far away now and stuff. He sent Benny a card with five dollars in it once.”

  “Is Benny sad because his dad isn’t with him anymore?” Cedar said, as she carried silverware to the table.

  Joey shrugged. “Sometimes, I guess. But I told him that having his dad far away was better than having his dad be dead forever.”

  Oh, man, listen to him, Mark thought, as he placed glasses on the table. A seven year old shouldn’t be thinking about things like that, but at least he was talking. Joey had said more to Cedar during the preparation of this meal than he had during all the weeks he’d lived here. Cedar Kennedy was obviously very good at what she did.

  She was also very good at pushing his sexual buttons by doing nothing more than being in the same room with him. She looked sensational in her snug jeans and bright red sweater. And when she smiled, or laughed, he could feel the heat coil low in his body, driving him right up the wall. She wasn’t trying to get a reaction from him, he knew that. It was just happening because…well, because she was Cedar.

  “I think you’re being a very good friend to Benny,” Cedar said.

  “He might be my friend,” Joey said. “Friends should be friends forever, you know? I don’t want to ask Benny to promise that ’cause…I just don’t.”

  “Why don’t you just be friends one day at a time?” Cedar said. “Don’t worry about forever, just have fun with Benny each day as it comes for now.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let’s check the chicken, sir chef,” Cedar said, ruffling Joey’s hair.

  Dinner was delicious and praise was directed to the little chef who beamed.

  “Do you have a kid?” Joey asked Cedar as they ate.

  “Hey, buddy,” Mark said, “that’s kind of a personal question to ask someone.”

  “It’s fine, Mark,” she said, then took a bite of fluffy potato. “No, Joey. I don’t have a child. I was married once, but I’m not married now.”

  “How come?” Joey said.

  Mark realized he was waiting for Cedar’s answer as intently as Joey was.

  “Because sometimes, even though we want things to be forever, it just doesn’t work out that way,” she said quietly. “It makes us very sad when that happens, but we have to learn to smile again and look forward to all the adventures yet to come. Understand?”

  Joey shrugged.

  “I really cried a lot when I knew I wasn’t going to be married forever,” Cedar continued. “It may sound strange, Joey, but crying when you’re sad can actually make you feel better.”

  Joey shrugged.

  “Do you have room in your tummy for another piece of chicken, Joey?” Cedar said. “Yes? No? Maybe you’ll want to leave room for the chocolate chip ice cream I brought.”

  “Do you like being in your house all by yourself?” Joey said.

  “Oh, I’m not alone,” Cedar said, smiling. “I have a cat named Oreo. I named her that because she’s black and white.”

  “Cats are cool,” Joey said, nodding in approval.

  “I sure like being in this house better since you came to live with me, Joey,” Mark said. “Having you here beats being all by myself.”

  “Really?” Joey said, his eyes widening.

  “Yep,” Mark said. “I wish you’d talk to me more, though.”

  “Well, I might be able to do that,” Joey said. “Maybe.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” Mark said.

  “Cedar could live here with us and bring her cat Oreo,” Joey said, “in case I don’t want to talk to you too much, Uncle Mark.”

  Interesting thought, Mark mused, stifling a chuckle. How was Cedar going to respond to that one?

  “Do you have room for that ice cream, Joey?” Cedar said.

  Mark laughed. “There’s more than one kind of chicken at this table, Dr. Kennedy.”

  “Huh?” Joey said.

  Cedar glared at Mark.

  After they’d consumed ice cream and cleaned the kitchen, Cedar asked Joey if he’d like to show her his room.

  “It’s just a room, with a bed and stuff,” Joey said. “There’s nothing much to see or anything.”

  “But you have—” Mark started.

  “Well, maybe another time,” Cedar interrupted.

  “Yeah…maybe,” Joey said. “I need to take my chef’s apron off now. I hardly got anything messy on it.”

  Cedar helped him to remove the apron.

  “Yep, you kept it pretty clean, Joey,” she said, holding it up for view, “but I think it still needs to be washed.”

  “No,” he said, snatching the apron out of Cedar’s hands.

  “Hey, that was rude,” Mark said. “You shouldn’t grab things from people, Joey.”

  Joey hugged the apron tightly. “But I don’t want it washed. I’m going to go put it in a special place in my room and nobo
dy can touch it but me. It’s mine. Mine.”

  “That’s fine,” Cedar said. “Off you go to select that special place. I’m headed for the living room to enjoy that lovely fire.”

  Joey ran from the kitchen and Cedar walked slowly to the living room, Mark following behind her. She sank onto a love seat facing the fireplace while Mark put another log on the glowing embers. He straightened, rested one arm on the mantel and looked at her.

  “I don’t have a clue whether this evening is going well or not,” he said, frowning. “Joey said more to you than he’s ever said to me, but…are we thrilled or discouraged?”

  Cedar smiled up at him. “Neither, really. I’m just gathering information.”

  “You approached some heavy topics, then backed off right away.”

  “It’s like planting seeds, Mark. Now we wait to see if Joey thinks about any of those topics we touched on. He did to a point, when he broached the subject of my being alone. You did very well with that, by the way, by telling him you liked having him here.” Cedar sighed. “Joey is a very frightened boy. He’s even afraid to be friends with Benny because, to him, friendship is supposed to be forever, and Joey has no trust in forever anymore. We’ve got a long way to go with that little sweetheart.”

  “What about you, Cedar?” Mark said. “You didn’t get happily ever after in your marriage. Have you learned to trust forever again?”

  “I’m focused on my career now,” she said, shifting her gaze to the flames in the hearth. “I really don’t have time for a relationship. You should be able to relate to that. You obviously put in very long hours at your construction company.”

  “True, but someday, when I’ve reached my goals, I want to have a wife and family. That won’t be for quite a while yet, though.” The wife part, at least. “I have a son, family, even if Joey isn’t exactly thrilled about it.”

  “Well, I hope those goals are clearly defined in your mind,” Cedar said, looking at Mark again, “so you know when you’re there. Me? I’m centered totally on my career so I don’t have to worry about when to shift gears.”

  “In other words, you don’t trust in forever anymore,” Mark said.

  “I didn’t say that,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’ve chosen what I want to do with my life and I’m very content with my decision.”

  “Mmm,” Mark said, then looked toward a hallway. “I don’t think Joey is going to come back out of his room. I’m going to go get him. It’s one thing to ignore me every evening, but you’re company, and he’s not being polite.”

  Cedar got to her feet. “No, let him do what feels right. I’ll go say goodbye to him, but I won’t attempt to enter his room because he doesn’t want to share his private space yet.”

  “You’re leaving?” Mark said, pushing away from the mantel. “There’s no reason for you to go so soon. I mean, hey, shouldn’t you be here in case Joey decides to be sociable? Anyway, just because Joey’s had enough of our company for tonight doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves. I have a lot of DVDs if you’d like to watch a movie. I’ve even got some girl flicks that belonged to my sister. You know, like Sleepless in Seattle and While You Were Sleeping and Casablanca.”

  “Girl flicks?” Cedar said, with a burst of laughter. “Oh, that is such a politically incorrect term, Mr. Chandler. Shame on you.”

  Mark grinned. “Well, what would you call those movies? I can’t picture myself rushing out and buying any of them.” He placed one hand over his heart. “However, nice guy that I am, I’ll watch one with you.”

  “Thank you, but no,” Cedar said, still smiling. “It’s been a long day. I’d probably doze off halfway through a movie.”

  “No problem,” Mark said, matching her smile. “That would mean you’d still be here in the morning and you could sample some of my world-famous scrambled eggs.”

  “Oh, I’m definitely going home now,” Cedar said, laughing again.

  The smile on Mark’s face vanished.

  “I told you how much I like hearing your laughter,” he said, “but it bears repeating. Wind chimes.” He stopped speaking, stared down at the floor for a long moment, then looked directly into Cedar’s eyes. “You know, I realize you’re here tonight for Joey, but I want to tell you that I enjoyed your company very much.”

  “Thank you, Mark,” Cedar said. “I…I had a nice time, too, even though I was working, per se. But…well, I’m going to say good night to Joey and be on my way. I want to get home and make some notes on what took place with Joey while everything is fresh in my mind and add them to his file on Monday. My professional duties aren’t over yet for today.”

  “You put in longer hours than I do, and I’ve been called a workaholic.”

  “I love what I do.”

  “But is it enough to fulfill the woman as well as the psychologist?” Mark said, raising his eyebrows.

  “We’ve been over this ground, Mark,” Cedar said. “I’m centered on my career. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see Joey.”

  Cedar hurried across the room and went down the hall, stopping at a closed door with a sliver of light visible at the bottom. She knocked. A moment later, Joey opened the door.

  “I just wanted to say good night, Joey,” Cedar said, smiling. “Thank you for a lovely evening and for cooking such a delicious dinner. I enjoyed being with you very much.”

  “’Kay,” Joey said. “Did you like being with Uncle Mark, too?”

  “Sure. He’s a nice man. You might consider spending more time with him, instead of being alone in your room. Think about that. Okay?”

  “’Kay. Bye. Thank you for my chef’s apron, Cedar. I’m going to keep it…keep it…forever.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I’ll see you at my office on Monday.”

  Joey nodded, then stepped back and closed the door.

  Cedar stood in the hallway for a long moment, sending mental messages to Joey just to let go and cry, to bury his sad little face in his pillow and weep until he had no more tears to shed.

  She sighed, then walked slowly to the living room to retrieve her purse from the chair where she’d placed it. She’d been so deeply in thought, she hadn’t been aware that Mark had moved to stand close beside her.

  “Mark,” she said, “I’d like to ask you a personal question which you don’t have to answer if you prefer not to.”

  “That sounds ominous, but ask away.”

  “When your sister and brother-in-law died in that accident, did you cry?”

  Mark frowned. “Why would you want to know that?”

  “Because if you did, and if the opportunity presented itself, you could tell Joey that there’s nothing wrong with men crying when they’re sad and that you’re not ashamed about your tears. Maybe Joey’s father preached the old philosophy ‘real men don’t cry’ and that is playing a major role in Joey’s refusal to shed those very important tears.”

  “Oh.” Mark shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, yanked them out again, then stared at the ceiling, his shoes, anywhere but at Cedar. “Well, I…well, yeah… I cried because I was really busted up about what had happened, but…I don’t think my telling Joey that would be helpful at all.”

  Cedar placed one hand on Mark’s upper arm. “Oh, but it would be helpful,” she said. “And it would mean far more than me, a woman, telling him that crying when you’re sad is perfectly fine.”

  “No, Cedar, you don’t get it. It was not easy to let go like that. I guess I made up my mind when I was a kid that tears sure as hell weren’t going to change the crummy stuff that I was dealing with, so what was the point?”

  “Crummy stuff?”

  Mark waved one hand in the air in a dismissive gesture, causing Cedar to drop her hand back to her side.

  “That’s not important now,” Mark said. “It’s old news best forgotten. We’re talking about Joey’s baggage, not mine. What I’m trying to say is that the only way I could cry for Mary and John was to…was to get drunk as a skunk. I really don’t think
you want me to give Joey a shot of whiskey and tell him to wail his little heart out.”

  “You had to get drunk before you could…” Cedar shook her head. “The fact that it’s perfectly acceptable for men to show their emotions is being realized in our society much, much too late. Better late than never, I guess. Still… I’m sorry that you had what was apparently a less than wonderful childhood. I’m sorry that you have to get drunk to cry.”

  “Don’t go there, Cedar,” Mark said, shaking his head. “I don’t intend to talk about it…ever.” He paused. “So…you believe that a man should show his feelings.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “That’s very, very good, because I have this heavy-duty feeling that I need to kiss you.” He framed her face with his hands, then lowered his head to claim her lips.

  No, no, no, Cedar thought. This wasn’t what she’d meant when she said…when she’d talked about—what had she been talking about? Oh, forget it. She really didn’t care, because this kiss…mercy, this kiss…

  Cedar’s purse dropped unnoticed to the floor as she encircled Mark’s shoulders with her arms. She returned his kiss in total abandon, savoring his taste, his aroma of soap and wood smoke, his strength tempered with infinite gentleness.

  Oh, Mark, yes.

  Oh, Cedar, no, said a niggling little voice in her brain. What on earth are you doing? This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

  She pushed on the hard wall of Mark’s chest with enough force that he broke the kiss. He looked at her questioningly as he dropped his hands from her face.

  “Wrong,” she said, then took a much-needed breath. “That should not have happened.”

  “Why not?” he said, his voice slightly gritty. “You enjoyed that kiss as much as I did, and you know it. It was sensational, and you know it. There’s no reason to say it was wrong, and you know it. So why are you saying it?”

  “Because I don’t go around kissing my clients, that’s why,” Cedar said, leaning down to snatch her purse from the floor.

  “Well,” Mark said, dragging a hand through his hair, “didn’t that sound snooty as hell? Did you make that up, or is it in chapter whatever in one of your textbooks?”