Through the Door (4 page)

Cedar hung up the phone and went back to staring at her computer screen. Why had she said that? She couldn’t take tomorrow off; she had three meetings lined up, and it was too late to reschedule them. She would have to take Eden to work with her, because there was no way she was letting her out of her sight.

Cedar sat at the end of the long table in the Ellison boardroom, feeling the color rise in her cheeks as several pairs of eyes bore into her. She looked down at the table, which was made out of refurbished planks from a turn-of-the-century barn. Her thoughts were spiraling as much as the grain in the wood. It was the third time someone had asked her a question and she’d had to ask for it to be repeated. She mumbled an apology and tried to focus on the mock-ups on the screen. She had studied them yesterday in preparation for this meeting, but it felt like a lifetime ago. A wave of relief passed over her when one of the junior designers spoke up with an answer and the raised eyebrows around the table were directed away from her.

An hour later, Cedar escaped the boardroom and dashed back to her workstation, where Eden sat curled up in her chair, watching a movie on Cedar’s tablet. She lifted one side of the headphones her daughter was wearing and said, “I’ll be right back,” before heading to the ladies’ room and locking herself in a stall.

She leaned against the stall door and closed her eyes, fighting the hot tears that threatened to escape. She tried to take
deep, calming breaths, telling herself that everything would work out. It didn’t help.

Eden had wanted to do more exploring as soon as she’d woken up, but instead Cedar had bundled her into the car and stuck her in front of a movie while she slipped in late to her first meeting. Part of her thought that what had happened yesterday must have been a dream. But she knew it was real. She felt as if stepping through that first door had taken her to another plane of existence, and she couldn’t go back.

She just wasn’t sure how to go forward.

Cedar grabbed a wad of toilet paper and started blotting her cheeks.
Freaking out is not going to solve anything,
she told herself. She needed help. Which meant she needed Jane.

With Eden trailing behind her, Cedar headed downstairs to Jane’s office. Jane was director of IT and Cedar’s best friend. She had arrived at Ellison four years ago, piercings, tattoos, and all, and the two women had immediately struck up a friendship. Cedar deposited Eden on a chair outside Jane’s office, where she could still see her through the glass door, then walked in to find Jane scowling at her phone.

“Hey, Jane. How was the date?” Cedar asked her, trying to sound casual as she closed the door behind her.

Jane looked up through her long bangs, which were a surprisingly mellow shade of purple this week. Usually she went more for the shock value produced by neon greens and blues and fire-engine reds. The rest of her hair was ink black and curled under in a sleek bob. She had a lip ring, a nose ring, seven earrings in her left ear, and three in her right.
The insides of both forearms were tattooed with quotes: one from the Buddha, and the other from
Star Wars.
They’d gone for tattoos together last year, and Cedar had gotten a small Celtic knot on the nape of her neck, hidden most of the time by her hair.

Jane’s scowl disappeared. “Disastrous but fun,” she answered.

Cedar shook her head. “Do I even want to know?”

“He took me to a
Lord of the Rings Online
tournament at the gaming store.”

Cedar burst out laughing. Jane’s love life was an endless source of entertainment for them both. “Oh, no! Did you remember to wear your trench coat?”

Jane shook her head. “It was frickin’ hilarious, actually. I was the only chick in the whole place. I think the fishnets did them in.”

“I’m sure they loved you,” Cedar grinned.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to go on a date last weekend? How did that go?” Jane asked.

Cedar rolled her eyes. “It didn’t. My mum was busy and I couldn’t find another sitter.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said. “You could have asked me, you know.”

“Yeah, because you love kids so much.”

Jane shrugged. “If it gets you a date, I’ll do anything.”

“Gee, thanks,” Cedar said, her eyebrows raised.

Jane stuck out her tongue. “You know what I mean. You’re gorgeous, and you’re lonely. I think some male companionship would do you good.”

“In all my spare time,” Cedar added. “Besides, there’s some other stuff going on right now that’s kind of…distracting. I was hoping I could talk to you about it.”

“Really? What’s going on?”

“Eden is, well, she’s kind of sick or something. She’s just been acting strangely.”

“The same Eden who is camping outside my office?”

“Yeah, I had to bring her. It’s a long story.”

Jane sat down behind her desk and folded her hands. “Go on,” she said.

Cedar wondered where to begin, and how to keep from telling too much while still getting Jane’s opinion on what she should do. She settled into the chair in the corner. “I have a strange question,” she began.

“Excellent. I love strange questions,” Jane said.

“Do you believe in magic?” Cedar asked.

“That, my friend,
is
a strange question, and totally not what I was expecting. But since you asked, yeah, I do believe in magic.”

“Really?”

“Sure, why not? I mean, think about it. The idea of magic has been around forever. There are tons of legends and stories and entire religions that deal with magic as a fact of life. I just don’t think it can
all
be made up.”

“Okay, but what about science? Isn’t there a saying like ‘Magic is just science we don’t understand yet’?”

“Mmm, yes. That may be true in a sense, but I think there are some things science will never be able to explain. I dunno. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, or because I’m a fantasy junkie. But I like the idea of magic. And it’s never been proven that it
doesn’t
exist, so why not believe that it does?”

There was a pause while Cedar digested this. “You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to consult my crystal ball?” Jane asked.

“It’s just that when I was with Finn, he, well, he thought the way you do. He talked sometimes like magic was real. I always just laughed it off. But I think he was serious.”

“Yes, and he was also a first-class dickhead, leaving you the way he did. I thought you were over him. Why are you thinking about him now?”

Cedar chose her words carefully. “I
am
over him. It has nothing to do with that. It’s just that Eden’s been acting strangely. And it’s making me question some of the things Finn used to say.”

“Acting strangely how? Has she been riding a broomstick or moving things with her mind or something? Or is this unrelated to the magic thing?”

Cedar winced. She knew what she must sound like, and was starting to wish she had never said anything. “No, of course not, nothing like that. It’s unrelated. I’m just worried about her, and I wish I had more answers. That’s all.”

Jane exhaled. Then she asked, “Do you want me to find him?”

“What?”

“Finn. Do you want me find him? If there’s something wrong with Eden, and you think it might have something to do with him, then maybe you need to talk to him.”

“Jane, I looked everywhere for him. I practically went out of my mind trying to find him. But he’s gone. And it’s pretty obvious he doesn’t want to be found. Why would that have changed?”

Jane snorted. “Because now you know me, of course. I
am
a computer genius, after all. Plus…” Jane paused for effect. “I know people,” she stage-whispered, her eyes wide.

“You know people?” Cedar repeated.

“Look, anyone can be found as long as you know where to look. And between me and some of my, er, friends, we know where to look. Like I said, I think the guy is a giant dick. He doesn’t deserve you, and you’re better off without him. But since you’ve obviously decided to never get a life
and
his kid is sick or messed up or something, I think it’s time you found him. Maybe he can help. It’s the least he can do.”

Cedar sat there quietly silently for so long that Jane stood up and walked over to her. “You okay?” she asked.

“I know it would probably help. To talk to him, that is. I’m just…”

“Afraid he’s going to reject you again,” Jane supplied.

Cedar scowled at her, but then nodded. “It’s been so long, and I really thought I had forgotten him. Honest, Jane, I thought I was done with all that. But now Eden looks more like him every day, and she’s been asking questions about him, and it’s all been coming back. And even if I could find him, there’s no guarantee he won’t just turn and walk away from me. Run, maybe. I don’t think I would handle that very well.”

“I understand,” Jane said, giving her a hug. “But remember, you’re not asking him to take you back. You don’t
want
him to take you back because he’s an insensitive, cruel jerk and you are much, much better off without him. You just want to talk to him about Eden, right? At least think about it. I’ll see what I can dig up and then you can decide what to do about it.”

Later that night Cedar lay in bed, unable to sleep. She had made it through the rest of the workday without any major
embarrassments, fielded a phone call from Maeve, and caught Eden standing in a doorway staring with longing at the towering spires of Cinderella Castle. Cedar had threatened to put locks on all the doors if she caught Eden creating a portal again. She knew she needed to find answers, and find them fast. And unless she was willing to take Eden to a doctor or a psychiatrist, and God only knew what they would do with her, the best place to start looking for answers was with Eden’s father. But she hadn’t heard anything from Jane, and there was no guarantee she would be able to find him. There was no guarantee he was even still alive.

She felt a sharp stab in her gut at that thought and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She turned on the light and went into her closet.

She stretched up on her tiptoes and shoved a pile of wool sweaters over on the top shelf. Behind them was a tin coffee can from the era when she had made cheap coffee that came pre-ground in bucket-sized cans. Finn had introduced her to the glories of freshly ground beans and had insisted she own a proper grinder. But Cedar had kept this one can, and it had become her keepsake jar. The top was covered in a thick layer of dust. She hadn’t touched it in years.

Cedar pried off the plastic lid and peered inside. She pulled out two ticket stubs. They had taken the train to Toronto to see U2. They had planned to take it all the way across Canada one summer. There was a picture of them at the busker festival, beaming into the camera and holding up giant gyros. A faded birthday card was curled against the inside of the can. In it, Finn had sketched a picture of Cedar’s profile, her long black hair flowing out behind her as she lifted her face toward the sun, eyes closed. At the bottom he had written, “You are
the sun that lights my world.” Cedar set the card down, her teeth clenched.

Well, this is hardly helping,
she said to herself, dumping her memories back into the coffee can and snapping the lid on. If she
was
going to face Finn again, she needed to do so from a position of strength, as a mother concerned about her child, not as an emotional sap stuck in the past. She pulled her housecoat on and stuck her feet into her slippers. She grabbed the can and carried it out of the apartment. Closing the door softly behind her, she headed down the stairs.
I don’t need this anymore,
she thought, clutching the can tighter all the same. She let herself out into the night and walked around to the side of the building, where the big green dumpster was tucked behind a tall wooden fence. She felt a stirring of panic and tried to stifle it. She didn’t want to have any expectations of him coming back into her life. She had a successful career, her own condo, her own child. She didn’t need him, and she didn’t need this old can of memories of a life that had died the moment he turned his back on her. She swung her arm back and threw the can as far as she could over the dumpster fence. She heard it crash and bounce off the top of the dumpster. No matter; it was as good as gone to her. A breeze swept through her and she shivered, pulling her housecoat closer. She breathed hard and gritted her teeth together, steeling herself against the tendrils of despair that licked at her like hungry flames.