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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 nobody can touch it but me. It’s mine. Mine.”

      “That’s fine,”

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