Home Again

“I insist,” he said, then grasped the bag, the back of his right hand brushing her breast lightly. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to…sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Cedar said. “On to the kitchen, gentlemen.”

Providing that her legs would carry her that far, she thought frantically, which was doubtful because her bones were dissolving from the incredible heat that was consuming her. That one-second flicker of Mark’s hand on her breast was wreaking total havoc on her body.

There was a flush on her cheeks, too, she just knew there was, darn it. This evening was not starting out well at all.

“Are you coming?” Joey said from across the room.

“What?” Cedar said. “Oh, yes, of course. Lead the way, sir.”

In the kitchen, Cedar offered the appropriate compliments on the state-of-the-art appliances and the generous size of the room, finally deciding that she was babbling like an idiot.

“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?”