Home Again. Joan Elliott Pickart

      “We’ll see,” Cedar said. “I’ll do that for you, but you have to do something for me. That’s how this deal works.”

      “What do I have to do?”

      “Well, if you don’t want gross eggs, we have to decide what you do want, then teach Uncle Mark how to make it. You invite me to your house and we’ll give him a cooking lesson. That’s your part of the deal. You invite me over and we, together, show Uncle Mark how to make your choice and tell him it can’t be gross when he does it. How’s that? What would you like to eat instead of scrambled eggs?”

      Joey shrugged.

      “Well, I guess you’re stuck with gross eggs then.”

      “No, wait,” Joey said. “I’d rather have chicken with barbecue sauce. I really like that. But Uncle Mark can’t ever learn how to make it. No way. He got a big fat chicken one time and stuck it in a pan without barbecue sauce on it or nothing, just a fat naked chicken and we waited for it to cook and stuff, you know? I was really hungry and hours went by and then Uncle Mark figured out he didn’t turn on the stove right and the stupid chicken was just sitting there. Cold. I mean, that is so dumb.”

      Cedar laughed. “So what did you have for dinner? No, let me guess. Gross scrambled eggs.”

      A hint of a smile appeared on Joey’s face, then disappeared in the next instant.

      “Yeah,” he said. “Eggs again.”

      “Okay, my new friend. We’re in business. I’ll buy what we need to make barbecue chicken, bring it to your house, and you and I will show Uncle Mark how to fix it.”

      “He’ll never go for this,” Joey said, rolling his eyes.

      “Let’s find out,” Cedar said, getting to her feet. “I’ll go get him.”

      “He’s going to be really, really grumpy,” Joey said, then sighed.

      Cedar opened the office door. “Mark? Would you come in please?”

      “Yeah. Sure,” he said, getting to his feet and hurrying across the room. “How’s it going?”

      “Joey and I have something of great importance to discuss with you.”

      “Already?” Mark said, raising his eyebrows. “Hey, that’s terrific.”

      “Mark, you take the chair opposite Joey and I’ll sit behind my desk now,” Cedar said.

      Mark settled onto the chair and looked at Cedar, an expression of anticipation on his face.

      “Joey and I have talked at length,” she said, “and I have agreed to be the spokesperson here.”

      “I’m listening, believe me,” Mark said, leaning forward.

      “Mark,” Cedar said seriously, “you make extremely gross scrambled eggs.”

      “I…what?”

      “Yes. Totally gross,” Cedar said. “Joey would prefer not to eat the scrambled eggs you prepare. Ever again.”

      “What?” Mark repeated.

      “So, Joey and I are going to teach you how to make what he would like to eat. Barbecue chicken.”

      “This is the matter of great importance that you wanted to discuss with me?” Mark said, none too quietly.

      “I told you, I told you,” Joey said, stiffening in his chair. “He’s getting grumpy right now. See? He is.”

      “I am not grumpy,” Mark said, then cleared his throat. “I’m…I’m just a bit surprised about the subject, that’s all. My eggs are gross, Joey?”

      “The worst,” Joey said. “Totally.”

      “I didn’t think they were that bad,” Mark said, frowning. “They wouldn’t win first place in an egg-cooking contest, but…you want barbecue chicken? I didn’t have much luck with that other chicken, remember?”

      “Yeah, well, this time Cedar and me are going to show you how to do barbecue chicken right,” Joey said. “Then you’ll know how to do barbecue chicken and gross eggs will be history.”

      “Got it,” Mark said, a bemused expression on his face.

      “What evening this week would be good for you?” Cedar asked. She flipped through her engagement calendar. “We’ll cancel our Wednesday afternoon appointment. I’m free Thursday or Friday.”

      “Pick one,” Mark said, throwing up his hands.

      “Friday night?” Cedar said, then recorded it. “I’ll be at your house by five-thirty.”

      “But I work until…” Mark hesitated. “Five-thirty, it is.”

      “Good,” she said. “Joey, it was wonderful to meet you and I am really looking forward to cooking with you and enjoying that chicken. I’ll see you Friday night. Why don’t you go see Bethany now and tell her I said you could pick a piece of candy from the jar. I want to speak to your Uncle Mark for a second.”

      “’Kay,” Joey said, then slid off the chair and ran out of the office.

      Cedar leaned forward and folded her hands on her desk. “Mark, I am so pleased with the progress made today with Joey,” she said, smiling.

      “You are?” he said. “Pardon my confusion, but I thought you two were coming in here to discuss Joey’s parents. But the topic was my crummy eggs? Why are we thrilled?”

      “Because Joey and I are establishing a rapport. He was comfortable enough with me to tell me that he wished he didn’t have to eat those scrambled eggs.”

      Mark got to his feet. “Why didn’t he just tell me?”

      “Mark, you have to understand where Joey is coming from. He is a bright little boy who realizes that you are the only person available to provide a home for him. He’s lost his parents. He’s now terrified that if he upsets you, you won’t want him to live with you.”

      “That’s nuts,” Mark said, nearly shouting.

      “Shh,” Cedar said, rising to round the desk. “I don’t want Joey to hear any of this. He used me as a buffer to deliver the message about the eggs and to inform you what he does like to eat. It’s a marvelous start. Our Friday session will also give me a chance to see his bedroom, the possessions that are important to him, and to watch the interaction between you and Joey.

      “Joey’s problems are not going to be solved overnight. It will be a slow process. He did not want to discuss his parents with me, and I didn’t push him on the subject. I have to establish a level of trust with Joey first. And…well, I need you to trust me, too.”

      Mark looked at Cedar for a long moment.

      “Doesn’t that work both ways?” he said finally. “Don’t you need to trust me?”

      “I don’t understand what you mean.”

      “You’re going to be coming to my home, plus you said we’d be going on outings together with Joey at times. We’ll also have private meetings such as this one right now to discuss progress. I’m referring to you trusting me as a man, not just as Joey’s guardian. Do you trust me as a man?”

      “I…” Cedar stopped speaking.

      Why was Mark doing this? she thought frantically. She didn’t intend to view him as a man. No, he was Joey’s guardian, his uncle, the person who was now that little boy’s father. Their relationship had nothing to do with Cedar, the woman, trusting Mark, the man.

      Mark Chandler unsettled her, made her acutely aware of her own femininity and his incredible masculinity. She had no idea if she trusted him. She was having enough trouble trusting herself not to overreact to his blatant sensuality whenever she was near