Home Again. Joan Elliott Pickart
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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