And Mark, Cedar thought, closing her eyes for a moment. What if he saw, sensed, that she was upset and asked her what was wrong? No, she mustn’t allow that to happen.
“Give me a minute, Bethany. I’ll buzz you when I’m ready to see Joey.”
“Okey-dokey. He’s having his snack now anyway.”
Cedar got to her feet and went into the small bathroom at the rear of the office. Inside, she gripped the sink and leaned forward to scrutinize her reflection to determine if there was any evidence that she had been shaken to the depths of her soul, the painful memories still hovering like beasts in the shadows eager to attack.
She was rather pale, she decided, but if Mark commented on her pasty complexion, she’d simply say that she’d had a busy day and was weary. She’d lie like Pinocchio and give Joey a thrill because he could watch her nose grow.
“You’re getting hysterical,” Cedar told her image in the mirror. “Cindy gave you a wonderful compliment by suggesting that you adopt her baby girl and you’re acting like she beat you up. Get a grip.”
Cedar straightened, squared her shoulders and left the bathroom. She hesitated at her desk, then decided to act like the professional that she was by getting Joey herself and even smiling nicely at Mark.
When she opened the door and stepped into the outer office, she stopped at the sight of a strange man sitting with Joey on the sofa.
“Hello, Joey,” she said.
“Hi,” he said, then made a loud slurping noise as he drained his juice box.
The man beside him got to his feet.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jeff Mason. I work for Mark. One of our guys got hurt on the job and Mark went to the hospital with him. He always does that, sticks right with the guy until he knows everything is all right. A lot of bosses wouldn’t do that, but Mark…anyway, I picked up Joey and brought him over here and I’ll keep him with me when you’re done until Mark calls me on my cell and tells me where to take the kiddo. If it gets late, I can take Joey home because Mark gave me the key to his house.”
“Oh, I see,” Cedar said after the man had finished talking. That was not disappointment she was feeling because Mark wasn’t there, was it? No, it wasn’t. Yes, it was. She might as well admit it and top off this lousy day she was having in style. “That’s fine. Joey, are you ready to have a little chat?”
“No,” Joey said, pressing himself deeper into the sofa. “I don’t want to talk today. No.”
“Okay, no problem. Just come into my office and sit with me and we’ll stare at each other.”
“That’s dumb,” Joey said.
“Hey,” Jeff said, “you’re being kinda rude there, Joey. I don’t think your Uncle Mark will want to hear that you were rude when we got here. Go.”
Joey executed one of his dramatic shrugs, slid off the sofa and shuffled past Cedar, dragging his feet through the carpet.
“Aren’t kids a kick?” Jeff said, smiling at Cedar. “I have four myself and I think they’re a hoot.”
A thrill a minute, Cedar thought as she produced a smile for Jeff’s benefit.
The session with Joey did not go well. He was sullen and unresponsive, the only bright spot coming when he told her that his Uncle Mark had learned how to make pancakes that were sorta gross but not as gross as the scrambled eggs.
Part of the problem, Cedar knew, was that she was not on top of her game, so to speak. She prided herself on her expertise at getting recalcitrant clients to reveal at least some clue as to where they were emotionally during a particular session, but today she was failing miserably with sad and angry little Joey.
“Well, my friend,” Cedar said finally, “I think we’ll cut this a bit short today.” She paused. “Joey, do you feel all right?”
“My head hurts,” he said, frowning. “My stomach hurts. And my feet hurt. My hair doesn’t feel too great, either. Maybe Uncle Mark poisoned me with them pancakes.”
“That’s possible, I suppose,” Cedar said, getting to her feet, “but if he did, he didn’t mean to.” She walked over to Joey and placed one hand on his forehead. “You’re a tad warm. Maybe you’re getting a bug.”
Joey’s eyes widened. “Like head lice?”
“No,” Cedar said, smiling. “I mean, you just aren’t feeling up to par, that’s all. Why don’t I have Jeff take you home?”
Joey shrugged.
In the reception area Cedar explained to Jeff that Joey needed some baby aspirin, a light dinner and should be tucked into bed early.
“I’m not a baby,” Joey yelled. “Why are you telling him to give me baby stuff?”
“Correct that, Jeff,” Cedar said. “I meant to say the kind of aspirin that is given to brave young boys who aren’t quite old enough for adult aspirin. Are you with me, Mr. Father of Four?”
“Got it,” Jeff said, chuckling. “Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thank you,” Cedar said. “It was nice to meet you, Jeff. I hope the injured member of your crew is going to be all right. Goodbye for now, Joey.”
“’Bye,” Joey mumbled.
After the pair left the office, Cedar turned to Bethany. “I am going home, taking four adult aspirin, having a light supper, and tucking myself into bed, and I don’t intend to emerge for the next five years.”
Bethany was still laughing when Cedar made her escape.
Chapter Six
On Wednesday evening, Mark stood in front of the bathroom mirror and worked on creating a decent knot in his tie. Joey watched him intently from his perch on the edge of the tub.
“A woman invented ties,” Mark said, “to torture men. Trust me, no guy would do this to another guy.”
Joey giggled and Mark smiled at the sound he so rarely heard coming from his nephew.
Should he ask Joey if he’d ever watched his father struggle with a tie? Mark wondered. No, he’d better not. He didn’t want to do anything to destroy this moment. Joey had actually wandered in here on his own, instead of hiding in his room as was his usual routine.
“Are you and Cedar going to eat fancy food at a fancy restaurant?” Joey asked.
“She can have fancy if she wants to,” Mark said, yanking the tie free and starting over. “Me? I’m going for a big juicy steak. That’s not very nice of me, huh? Considering that I served you macaroni and cheese my crew could use to seal bricks together?”
Joey shrugged. “It was just medium gross, not totally gross. Do you think Cedar will wear a pretty dress tonight?”
“Sure. But I think she looks pretty in anything she wears.”
“Yeah. You like Cedar a lot, don’t you, Uncle Mark?”
“How much is a lot?” Mark said.
“Well, you know, you might, you know…kiss her.”
Mark snapped his head around to stare at Joey. “Kiss her? Aren’t you a bit young to be thinking about kissing?”
“Everybody knows about kissing,” Joey said, frowning. “Geez. The next time I see Cedar, I’m going to ask her if you kissed her.”
“No, you are not,” Mark said, pointing a finger at Joey. “That’s a question you don’t ask. Kissing is a private thing and you don’t go around doing a survey on who is kissing who. Or whom. Or whatever. If I kiss Cedar, it will be nobody’s business but ours.”
“You’re going to kiss her,” Joey said, nodding. “I can tell ’cause you’re getting all grumpy about it and stuff to be sure I don’t ask her if you did.”
“Knock it off,” Mark said, redirecting his attention to the mirror and fixing the tie.
“It will be good if you kiss Cedar because she’s cool and I like her,” Joey said. “She asks me too much stuff sometimes, but she’s still cool and she smells good. Like a girl. Not a sweaty girl. A girl who just took a bath.”
Mark chuckled.
“Maybe you could kiss her,” Joey continued, “and make her smile at you real nice and stuff, then ask her if she wants to live with us.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, Cedar’s house is falling down and
she needs to get another one and there’s room for her here. She cooks good and when we all eat together it’s fun and there’s talking and stuff instead of just eating and getting done. And you like her and I like her, and I like her cat, and I think Cedar likes us okay, so….”
The doorbell rang and Mark looked heavenward in gratitude that he had been saved from having to address Joey’s dissertation.
“There’s Sally, your sitter. She said she’d walk over since she only lives across the street,” Mark said. “She’s a senior in high school and babysits a lot so you should have some fun with her.”
The doorbell chimed again.
“Go answer the door, Joey, before she thinks we skipped town.”
“’Kay.”
As Joey ran from the bathroom, Mark smoothed the tie down the front of his shirt. “That’s as good as it gets,” he said, then went into his bedroom to retrieve his suit jacket. Shrugging into the jacket, he glanced around the large, nicely furnished room.
Ask her if she wants to live with us.
Boy, oh, boy, when Joey came out from behind his walls for a visit, he sure talked up a storm. He had him kissing Cedar Kennedy, then moving her right in here so things could be fun.
Interesting proposition.
Mark started toward the door, then stopped and glanced back at the bed.
Imagine what it would be like to wake up each morning next to Cedar, he mused. A morning that followed a night of lovemaking so incredibly beautiful it defied description. She’d smile that sunshine smile of hers, add a dose of her wind-chime laughter, and make him glad to be alive and ready to start a new day.
And he would no longer be lonely.
“No longer…what?” Mark said aloud, planting his hands on his hips and scowling.
Where was this lonely notion coming from? he fumed. He didn’t have time to be lonely. He was on a mission to achieve financial security, one he had mapped out years before. When he reached that goal, somewhere down the line, then and only then would he entertain the idea of having a wife and children and—
Well, he already had Joey and that was fine, great, would be even better once the little guy dealt with the pain of losing his parents. They’d be a team, doing father-and-son things together, like tossing a baseball around, going on hikes, cooking dinner with Cedar and—
“Uncle Mark,” Joey said, running into the room, “Sally brought a thingy of popcorn to do in the microwave and said to ask you if it was okay if we did that.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Mark said. “You can have your snack with Sally.”
Before he left, Mark gave the teenager instructions regarding Joey’s bedtime and what he was allowed to watch on television.
“I don’t know what time I’ll be back, Sally,” Mark said.
“No rush,” Sally said. “I can always zonk out on the sofa if I get sleepy. Have a nice evening, Mr. Chandler.”
“Don’t forget to kiss Cedar,” Joey said.
“I’m outta here,” Mark said, as Sally burst into laughter.
Cedar slowly turned around in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door. When in doubt, she thought, wear the ever-famous little black dress, hers being wool crepe with long sleeves, a narrow belt and jewel neckline. She’d added a gold heart-shaped locket and small gold earrings, and her shoes were regulation two-inch black heels.
“And that,” Cedar said, leaving the bedroom, “as they say, is that.”
She decided to ignore the other addition to her ensemble, which was a bevy of butterflies that had arrived uninvited in her stomach. She was nervous, darn it, and that fact was infuriating. She was determined to set aside the butterflies and all thoughts of work and her crumbling house, and simply have a lovely evening in the company of a handsome man.
Cedar smiled. She could do this.
The doorbell rang.
She was still smiling when she opened the front door to Mark, but her smile faltered a tad as she drank in the sight of him in a charcoal-gray suit, dark-blue shirt and gray tie.
The man was beyond handsome, she thought.
“Hello, Cedar,” Mark said, as he stepped into the living room. “You look sensational.”
“Thank you,” she said, closing the door. “So do you.” She paused. “Would you care for something to drink?”
“I made reservations, so we really should get going,” he said, then frowned. “Cedar, I just want to say that I’ve really been looking forward to this evening. I don’t know why it’s suddenly so important that I tell you that, but it is.”
“What a nice thing to say, Mark. I…well. I’ve been looking forward to it, too.”
“Good,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “That’s very, very good to hear.”
They stood about two feet apart, not moving, hardly breathing, mesmerized by eyes of blue and fathomless depths of dark, dark eyes. The room around them faded into a hazy mist and the only sound they heard was the thundering of their own hearts echoing in their ears.
Heat began to swirl within them, fanning flames of desire that threatened to consume them.
Mark finally tore his gaze from hers and drew a rough breath.
“We…” he started, then cleared his throat. “We’d better go.”
“What?” Cedar said dreamily, then blinked. “Oh. Yes, of course. I’ll just get my purse and shawl, except I don’t remember where I put them…there they are.” She hurried to snatch them from a chair. “I’m ready.”
Mark looked at her for a long moment before he spoke again.
“So am I,” he said quietly.
A shiver slithered down Cedar’s spine.
They left the house, but the heightened awareness, the hum of sexuality, the simmering heat accompanied them, taking greater hold as they drove across town, then found themselves, somehow, being seated at a table for two in one of Phoenix’s finest restaurants.
They ordered from flocked menus, Mark tasted and approved a rich wine, then salads appeared before them.
“How is that member of your crew who was injured?” Cedar said, hoping her voice was steadier than it sounded to her.
“He’ll be okay,” Mark said, “but he’s out of commission for now because he broke his wrist. He slipped going up a ladder, put out his hand to catch himself as he fell and snapped a bone.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” she said. “That Jeff who brought Joey to my office was very impressed with the fact that you always accompany an injured worker to the emergency room.”
“It doesn’t happen that often,” Mark said, “but, yes, I tag along and see what’s what.”
“Joey wasn’t feeling well when I saw him. Is he all right now?”
“He was fine by the next morning,” Mark said. “Cedar, let’s not talk about Joey tonight. Remember?”
“I remember. I don’t want to discuss any of my clients, cold-hearted person that I am, nor my stressing-me-to-the-max house.” Cedar took a bite of the crisp salad. “Mmm. Delicious. Mark, I’d like to hear about where you grew up. Were you always interested in construction? You know, creating things from odds and ends when you were little?”
“We…um…we moved around a lot,” Mark said, looking at his salad, then pushing it aside. “There was never extra money for movies, or special outings, so, yes, I entertained myself by building junky things from whatever I could find. The majority of the time my sister…Mary…had to ask me what it was when I announced that my project was finished.”
“You were that talented, huh?” Cedar said, smiling.
“It was grim, very grim, but I had fun doing it,” he said. “Little by little, I got the hang of it and as I got older I knew that I wanted to have a career where I could create things that would be on this earth long after I was gone. I still get a rush from the process of starting with nothing, seeing a structure take shape, then seeing it completed.”
“That must be very fulfilling,” Cedar said, “to see and touch your creation. My work is more nebulous. I take a client as far a
s I’m capable, then hope that the positive changes I’ve witnessed stay in place in the future.” She paused. “I promised myself I wouldn’t talk about my career. Not tonight. I’d love to hear about something you made when you were, oh, say, Joey’s age.”
Mark laughed. “That’s a long time ago. Give me a minute to trip down memory lane and come up with an example.”
Just then the waiter appeared and placed their dinners in front of them. Mark had ordered a big steak that came with an enormous baked potato and mixed vegetables. Cedar had chosen baked salmon with dill sauce and steamed asparagus. They each sampled their meals, and agreed that everything was delicious.
“Sure beats Uncle Mark’s scrambled eggs,” Mark said, then took another bite of juicy steak.
“No offense, sir,” Cedar said, laughing, “but rumor has it that just about anything beats Uncle Mark’s scrambled eggs.”
“True, very true,” Mark said, nodding. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be serving them to my nephew, the victim of my culinary arts. But, hey, now I know how to make barbecue chicken.”
“Yes, you do. We need to expand your talents a bit further, though.” Cedar paused. “You were going to tell me about something you made when you were little.”
“Ah, yes, let me see,” Mark said. “I made my mom a birdhouse one year for Mother’s Day. I was about Joey’s age, I guess. I hammered and glued and used duct tape to get that thing together, then painted it about ten different colors in stripes and circles. Man, that was one ugly birdhouse, but I was so proud of it, I was bursting my buttons.”
Cedar made no attempt to hide her smile as she listened to Mark, envisioning the eager child working so hard on his precious gift for his mother. What a sweet and tender picture that created in her mind.
“The thing was,” Mark went on, laughing softly, “I forgot to make an opening so the birds could go inside the house.”
“Oh, my,” Cedar said.
“My mom was great. She said she was going to hang it from the tree anyway as a decoration that she could enjoy when she looked out the window as she washed dishes. It was so beautiful, she said, that it would make a chore like dishes a pleasure. My mom was…well, she was the best.”
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