Package Deal(71)

“Don’t you want to get married—to my mom? She said she loves you, but if you don’t love her …” Cece sobbed.

Marcus sat, his body rigid, unsure what to do, what to say. “Cecelia, it’s—” He reached out to touch her hand, but she scooted away from him. Oh, shit.

Amanda came out on the porch.

Cecelia turned, put her arms around her mother’s waist, and clung to her, still crying.

“I think I’d better go before I upset her more,” Marcus said.

Amanda gave him an apologetic smile then walked Cecelia into the house.



“Cece, let me explain,” Amanda said softly.

“No. Marcus didn’t say he loves you back,” Cecelia sobbed. “He shouldn’t come over here anymore. It’s not right. What he did, what you did.” She turned her back on her mother. When Amanda placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she brushed it off angrily. “No! And you can’t make me read stories with him anymore.”

Amanda reached out and pulled Cece into her arms. “We need to talk about this. Let me hold you. Here. Blow your nose.”

She did and Cecelia’s sobs gradually subsided.

Amanda wiped her daughter’s face. “You’re just like me, sweetheart. When you cry, your nose gets all red, just like your cheeks.”

A slow smile curved her daughter’s lips.

Amanda grinned back at her.“I’ll tell Marcus he can’t come over for a while. But we need to talk—so you’ll understand.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. But I want you to think about something.”

“What?” She sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve before Amanda handed her another tissue.

“I would never have a relationship with a man you don’t like, Cece, but you have to remember that it’s my decision—whether Marcus … is my friend. I want you to like him, too, but you can’t choose my friends for me.”

Cece shook her head.

Amanda rubbed her daughter’s back. “Darling, did I choose Sam for your friend—even though I’m not always happy about what Sam shows you when you go to her house?”

Cecelia looked up at her. “Nooo.” She reached for Eeyore. “But that’s different. Her mom said it was okay.”

“Now I think you’re revising history. Her mom didn’t like it when the two of you saw Brittany’s book, and she told you that. She didn’t even know about it until after I called her.”

Cecelia was silent, sliding one foot back and forth on the carpet.

“It’s not different. Sam is your special friend and Marcus … He’s my special friend. He’s your friend, too, Cece. You know he is. He even came to the hospital and read to you after your accident. Remember when we went to the fair and he carried you, up on his shoulders, when you were too tired to walk—so we didn’t have to go home early?” She continued moving her hand soothingly across her daughter’s back. “He’s a good person. You know I couldn’t like someone who wasn’t.”

Cece burst into tears again. “But it was wrong! It was! Sam’s mom says it’s wrong, and her dad says people who do that will burn or rot or something else I can’t remember. I don’t want you to rot or burn or—” Her sobs prevented her from continuing as she flung herself onto her bed and buried her head in her pillow, clinging to Eeyore.

Amanda leaned down and deposited a kiss on the back of Cece’s head. “I’m not going to rot or burn, sweetheart. We’ll talk about this again, later. When you’re calmer, come downstairs. We were going for a walk with Skipper this afternoon. We’ll talk some more. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”

They never took that walk. Cecelia refused to talk with Amanda when she finally came downstairs, preferring to color in her favorite coloring book or throw the ball in the backyard for Skipper to chase and return. Amanda chose not to push it. Maybe time would ease Cecelia’s bad feelings.



She didn’t see the note until she opened the car door to complete some errands later that day.

Amanda:

Please call me. We have to talk.

Marcus

She wasn’t sure what he was going to say, and feared what he might say. She thought she knew how he felt about her. How many times had they argued about moving in together? Once, he’d said Cecelia would be safer if they did that. But the few times he had gingerly tiptoed around the subject of marriage, she had nearly bitten off his head.

Maybe it was her fault. After all, wasn’t she the one who was hesitating when he’d said the M word? Maybe that was why he’d never said he loved her. Especially after he’d been burned so badly by Felicity. His history. Just like her history with Dylan, it intruded on their present. Maybe even their future. Maybe he’d become so frustrated with her putting him off that he’d decided they couldn’t see each other anymore. Or maybe he really didn’t love her—or Cecelia, at least not enough for them to have a relationship without being married …