alone in his bedroom, and just seems to be operating in his own little world where no one is allowed to enter. I enrolled him in school and his teacher called me in and said Joey doesn’t participate in class. He just sits there doing nothing, she said. I took him to Dr. Gibson to be sure he wasn’t sick or something and that’s how I ended up here.”
“How well does Joey know you, Mr. Chandler?” Cedar asked.
“Call me Mark. My sister and I were close, talked on the phone at least once a week, but I couldn’t get to New York much because of work. I visited for a couple of days last Christmas, but…Joey recognizes me when he sees me, but know me? I guess I’d have to say he doesn’t really know me if that means feeling comfortable with me, or trusting me. I’m just Uncle Mark who showed up once in a while.”
“Do you feel comfortable with him?”
Mark uncrossed his legs and shifted in his chair.
“Not…really,” he said, a deep frown knitting his brow. “I don’t have a clue what to say to him about his parents, or even about something as simple as how his day went. Dinner conversation is something like ‘So, Joey, how’d school go today?’ and he’ll say ‘’kay’ and that’s it for the entire meal. Then he asks to be excused and spends the rest of the evening in his room until I tell him it’s time for a bath and bed.”
“It sounds as though Joey has his emotions under lock and key,” Cedar said.
“That’s a good way to put it,” Mark said, producing a small smile. “I’m doing a lousy job with him and I realize that. I need help here. It is November already and if Joey doesn’t start doing some work at school, he’s liable to flunk second grade. Plus there’s so much tension in our house, you could cut it with a knife.”
“All right,” Cedar said. “I have the basic information I need to start working with Joey. I do need you to fill out this form for his file, though. I’d like to see him three times a week to start. Is he available after school?”
“Well, no, not exactly. A van takes him up from school to a day-care center, where I pick him up just before six when they close.”
“That’s a long day for a little boy,” Cedar said.
“Yeah, well, I have a lot to do running Chandler Construction.”
“We’ll get into that later,” Cedar said. “There will be times, Mr…Mark, when I’ll want to see you alone, sessions when I want to see you and Joey together and, of course, sessions with Joey on his own. I also do things a bit differently than most child psychologists.
“I feel an office setting can be intimidating for my young clients, so I’ll come to your home, or go on an outing with Joey, perhaps join you and Joey for dinner at a pizza parlor. We’ll decide on those things further down the line.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Now about Joey’s appointments. To have you bring him here after you pick him up at day care isn’t workable. He’ll be tired, hungry…no, I need you to get him here three times a week right after school.”
“Man,” Mark said, running one hand over the back of his neck. “Okay, yeah, I’ll figure something out.”
“Good.” Cedar got to her feet holding the information form. “Let’s go look at the appointment book and set up some of those sessions.”
“There’s one other thing I feel you should know,” Mark said, rising.
“Yes?”
“Joey hasn’t cried.”
“What?”
“He hasn’t cried through any of this.”
“Are you certain of that?” Cedar said, joining him in front of her desk. “What about when he was at the neighbor’s while you were tending to the estate?”
He shook his head. “Maggie, the neighbor, made a point of telling me that Joey didn’t want to talk about his parents, nor did he cry if she or her kids brought up the subject. He didn’t cry at the funeral, or when I brought him here or…no, Dr. Kennedy, Joey hasn’t cried.”
“Cedar is fine. I like to keep things casual, but goodness, Joey must address his pain, let his emotions out instead of bottling them up. For a seven year old to not have cried when his very world was destroyed is saying a great deal about his mental state.”
“You sound…I don’t know…like you really care about Joey and you haven’t even met him yet.”
“He’s a child in crisis, Mark. Of course, I care.”
“Do you have kids of your own?”
“No,” Cedar said quietly. “I don’t. My clients are my family. Oh, and my very spoiled cat Oreo.”
“You don’t have a husband or children, and you devote yourself to other people’s kids who are messed up. That’s admirable, but don’t you get lonely at times?”
“Do you?” Cedar said, starting toward the office door.
“Ah-ha,” Mark said, following her. “Now that was a slam-dunk shrinky-dink maneuver. You answered a question with a question.”
“Of course,” Cedar said, laughing. “We’re taught that the very first week of classes in college.”
“Whoa,” Mark said, as they entered the reception area. “I thought your smile was something else, but your laughter is…is…okay, I’m going for corny here. Your laughter is like wind chimes. Nice, very nice.”
“Thank you,” Cedar mumbled, then glanced at her watch. “We’d better hurry. You fill out this form while I set up some appointments for Joey. You don’t want to be late picking him up at the day-care center. Do you cook dinner for Joey?”
“Sort of. We eat a lot of scrambled eggs which is about it as far as my culinary skills go. We do the fast-food circuit and order in.”
“Mmm,” Cedar said, shaking her head. “We’ll discuss that later, too.”
Cedar scheduled appointments for Joey over the next two weeks while Mark filled out the form. She gave him a paper with the session dates and times, then offered him her hand.
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’m looking forward to speaking with Joey.”
Mark took her hand. “I appreciate your being willing to take him on.”
Was that heat slithering up her arm and across her breasts? Cedar thought. Good heavens, it was. Mark’s hand was strong and callused, yet so gentle. His touch had caused a strange and disturbing feeling—
“May I have my hand back now?” she said.
“Oh. Sure,” Mark said, releasing her hand very slowly. “Thanks again…Cedar.”
“You’re welcome…Mark.”
When the door to the suite closed behind Mark Chandler,
