Chapter 6

"Wow, you are so early!"

He turned his head from the computer screen to face Tammy, who had just entered the office, and looked surprised to see him there before her. "Good morning to you too, Horowitz."

She looked at him suspiciously. "How is it that you're already here? Unless you spent the night here, which I know you didn't-"

"I didn't sleep well," he said shortly, hoping she'd be satisfied with this answer, which was mostly the truth.

Who was he kidding? A slow, sly smile made its way to her lips. "Didn't sleep, huh? And what was that that you've been doing instead of sleeping, if I may ask?"

Here we go again. "Not what you have in mind, cut it out," he said dryly.

"How was your date?"

"Horowitz, for the 525,600th time, it was not-"

"-A date. I know, I know, because you are just friends."

He ignored the mockery her voice carried. "That's right." He was glad he was going out of town in a couple of hours. He needed to be alone, away from his work, away from Tammy's inquiries, but most importantly, away from Maureen. He needed to think it through.

"When do I get to meet her?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"When do I get to meet her, that mythological ex of yours?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Why would you want to meet her?"

"Since your mother lives too far away to approve the match."

"My mom will never approve. She's not Jewish, remember?"

Tammy let out a fake gasp. "Marky, how could you?" He rolled his eyes. "No, but seriously, I would like to meet her, to give her a fair warning about what she gets herself into."

"Well, she does know that, remember?" And then he remembered something. Is she your girlfriend or something? "You have met her, you know."

"When did I do that?"

"She told me she talked to you a day before we met. She said you told her to come back if she wanted to talk with the person who took the photos," he said, rolling his eyes. "Is that how you convince people to go back here when I'm gone, Horowitz?"

She didn't answer his question. She looked lost in thoughts. Then she raised her head to face him. "Wait a second… I do remember her! Dark, brown hair? Beautiful eyes? She wore a business suit, looked expensive."

"That sounds pretty much like her."

"Whoa!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Cohen, that she is gorgeous! Which makes me wonder again why-"

"-Not funny, Horowitz, let it go. Look, I've got some work to finish here before I leave for Scarsdale-"

"Yeah, got it, I'm gone. But you'll have to tell me what happened there sooner or later. You realize that, right?"

"First, I'll have to tell that to myself."

Wrong thing to say. She smiled victoriously. "So something did happen!"

"No! Ugh, forget it!"

Tried as she might to get information out of him, he didn't tell Tammy a single thing. He left the gallery to rent a car right after lunch, and a couple of hours later he was on his way to Scarsdale. Traffic was as horrible as he expected. He sat in the car, whistling the song that was playing on the radio. He didn't even try to sing along, he was too awful at that. He was staring absent-mindedly at the car in front of him. Two kids who were sitting in the back seat of that car suddenly noticed him, and started making weird faces at him. Ugh. He hated when they did that. He stuck his tongue at them and looked away. His thoughts soon drifted to the night before.

Of course, he didn't tell Tammy how yesterday night could have ended, unless Robin entered the scene. Would it have ended that way? She might have backed away, like she did before, but somehow he got the feeling that she wouldn't. What did that mean, though? Everything was happening so fast, and it seemed like it was totally out of his control. There was this old feeling rushing back, and although he remembered it from before, it had a slightly different essence now. But did she feel it too? Did she even feel it back then when she cheated on his endlessly and eventually dumped him?

And whatever would happen, it wasn't that simple. She lived too far away now. He had never believed in long distance relationships. And of course, there was Libby. He loved that little girl, but was he ready to be a father? And then he realized what he was thinking and wanted to kick himself. He was thinking way too far ahead. There was no relationship to talk about for one thing, and what if it was all in his head? What if Maureen didn't feel all that? What if she just enjoyed spending time with him after all these years apart? What if they were 'just friends' as far as she was concerned?

Two teenagers were playing one-on-one basketball as he pulled into the driveway of the small two-story house. They stopped playing the moment they spotted him and started waving enthusiastically at him.

"Hey mom! Uncle Mark is here!" they shouted towards the kitchen window. He smiled and parked the car.

"Josh, Michael, please don't shout!" a woman's voice called back from the kitchen, and seconds later Cindy went out from the back door. Her face lightened when she saw her younger brother getting out of the car. "Mark! Finally! What took you so long?" she asked, kissing his cheek.

"Christmas traffic. How are you guys?"

"Are you kidding? No school for them, they couldn't be happier," Cindy rolled her eyes. The twins Josh and Michael were 15. Their younger sister Natalie was 9. They all grew up so fast, it was amazing watching it happen. This made him think of Libby instantly. Would she, too, grow up so fast before he'd notice? And then his thoughts shifted from the daughter to her mother, and the choir of what if's started all over again. Like he didn't have enough of that when he was stuck on the road.

"Mark?" He blinked as his sister's voice invaded his thoughts. "You're coming inside? It's freezing here."

"Yeah, sure," he said, taking his small backpack and following Cindy and the boys inside.

For the first half an hour, he thought that it would be a quiet, peaceful dinner. That is, until his mother suddenly looked at him thoughtfully. "Mark, do you remember Sheila Goldberg?"

Oh, here we go, he thought. He laid his fork on the table and glared at Cindy, who was sitting across from him. She just shrugged, as if to say she had nothing to do with it. Yeah, right. "Umm… no, mom, I don't remember."

"You went to high-school with her, don't you remember? Her father used to work in dad's clinic." He shook his head. "Well, anyway. She is in town, visiting her parents for Chanukah. I thought you could get back together, you know, to speak of old times," she finished, winking. She had that annoying, brilliant smile, as if it was the greatest idea.

He groaned. Stay calm, he restrained himself. "Mom, please, didn't we discuss this before? I told you I do not need you to find me a bride, I can take care of myself." Josh and Michael were grinning. Oh, just you wait 3 more years, he thought bitterly, shooting them a glare.

"Now, now, Mark, there is no need for you to get so agitated, I'm only doing it for your own good. Do you remember Jerry? The guy that was in the science club with you in tenth grade? We just got an invitation for the Bris of his third son. Third, Mark."

"Yeah, mom, I got it." Man, why wouldn't she just leave it? So what if his childhood friends were all settled. Did that mean he had to be just like them? He was happy with his life the way they were.

"Well, I've already invited the Goldbergs for lunch tomorrow."

Shit. "Mom… I'm kind of seeing someone, in New York." He didn't even plan on telling her so soon. Mostly because there was really nothing to tell. It wasn't even dating. He hated using Maureen as an excuse, but he didn't have much choice.

His mother's eyes brightened. "Oh? Well, you should have brought her here, to know the family! Who is she? What does she do? Did you meet her parents? What do they do?"

Double shit. "I've only met her couple of times. I haven't met her parents yet." He thought better of telling her that it was Maureen. He knew exactly what she thought of her. His mother would have hated Maureen even if she was Jewish. He still cringed at the thought of the way both his parent treated her in that first and only dinner the two of them ever had in Scarsdale. And now, it was even worse. He didn't even want to think about his mother's reaction for Maureen's being a single mom, not to mention the fact that she was divorced. God forbid.

"At least tell us her name," she insisted, looking at him urgently.

"Her name? Uh… I'd really rather not talking about this…" he said, looking desperately at Cindy. She seemed to notice his distress, for she started talking about Natalie's birthday party, that was only two weeks away.

He leaned back in his seat, relieved. This was a close one. He ignored Cindy's questioning looks and started talking with Josh, who was sitting next to him.

The rest of the evening was peaceful enough thanks to Cindy, who kept his mother well distracted from the issue of finding him a future wife. Whenever she would start talking about the Goldbergs or whatnot, Cindy would start talking about something else. If it wouldn't have caused him to feel so pathetic, it was almost amusing.

They lit Chanukah candles and sang some Chanukah songs. Since he had his camera with him, he filmed around a bit. At some point, his mother and Cindy went into the kitchen, to wash the dishes from dinner. They insisted they didn't need his help so he wandered back to the living room. Cindy's husband and the kids had just started watching a film he saw the week before, so he excused himself and entered what used to be his father's study. Ah, peace and quiet at last, he thought as he closed the heavy wooden door behind him.

He switched the lights on and looked around with a frown. He never liked getting into this room. Just like his father, it was cold and gloomy. The huge red-wine drapes that hung on the window completely blocked the light from the outside, making the room impossibly gloomier. The walls were covered with shelves that contained hundreds of books in expensive leather covers. There was a leather couch along one wall, and two chairs near a huge desk, where he spotted what he was looking for. He sat with his back to the closed door and reached for the phone.

"Hello?" He shivered involuntarily. She always had that husky, seductive tone when she answered the phone. Unless… He glanced at his watch. It was 10PM. What were you thinking, you jerk?

"Shit, did I wake you?"

She laughed softly. "Mark, hey. No, I'm in bed, but I wasn't sleeping." He wasn't sure whether to believe her or not. She sounded tired. "How was dinner?"

He sighed. "Oh, you know. My mom was doing her Yente the Matchmaker role again. But other than that it was okay, I guess. How was yours?"

"Fine. We actually went out, which was kind of unplanned, but it stopped snowing, and Libby was bored. It was fun." Then she paused, and laughed. "Yente the Matchmaker?"

"Yeah. The Jewish Mother Syndrome. It bothers her that I'm 35 and single, so she tries to set me up with nice, Jewish girls from Scarsdale."

"Then make it stop. Find someone nice and marry her," she said playfully.

"You know any nice girls?" he teased, playing along.

"Most likely. When you come to think about it, I probably dated more girls in New York than you ever did."

He laughed, feeling his distress slowly fading away. "Oooh, that one hurt, Mo."

"Well, actually I do know this one girl, but she's not Jewish."

He froze. Somehow, he got the feeling that she wasn't playing anymore. She didn't mean what he thought she meant, didn't she? "You know, it's my mom who has this religion obsession," he said slowly, carefully picking his words. "I don't really mind whether she'll be Jewish or not."

"I know. I just keep thinking that she's not good enough for you," her tone became serious.

He held the receiver close to his ear until his knuckles turned white. He could almost hear his heart pounding. How was he supposed to answer?

"Libby really misses you, you know," she said all of a sudden, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "She didn't stop talking about you the entire evening. She loves that cow you brought her."

"I'm glad," he smiled. Yeah, talking about Libby instead of about them was a safe ground. He missed her too. "Any chance that she's awake?"

"She was, half an hour ago."

"Damn. I should have called sooner."

"Oh, so I'm not the reason you called here in the first place, Mr. Cohen, is that it?" Here goes that seductive tone again, he thought.

"Well, she is younger," he teased.

"Ha, ha," she said. "You should go spend time with your family. Isn't that the reason you went there?"

"Yeah, you're probably right," he said reluctantly.

"Give me a call when you're back in town, okay?"

"I might do that even before, I'll need to hear a friendly voice after lunch tomorrow. My mom invited this… Oh, forget it. I don't want to keep you awake."

"Good night."

"Bye, I'll call tomorrow."

"Okay." She paused. "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

It felt like she wanted to tell him something, but instead there was this long pause. For a moment, he thought that she wasn't there. "Never mind. Merry Christmas," she said eventually.

"Merry Christmas," he replied quietly. He didn't put the receiver on its hook even after he heard the dial tone. What was that all about?

"Mark?"

He turned around abruptly to find Cindy standing on the threshold. Shit. "How long have you been standing there?" he asked, suddenly panicked. How much did she hear?

"Couple of minutes," she said, entering the room and closing the door. She sat in the chair next to him and gave him a serious look. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Who were you talking so secretly?"

"No one you know," he said, avoiding eye contact. Please let it go, he thought.

"Was it this woman you're seeing? I thought you were making it up to get away from mom."

"Well, not exactly. I mean I'm not exactly dating her, it's… complicated."

"Complicated how?" she asked, and then went pale all of a sudden. "You didn't do anything stupid like getting someone pregnant, didn't you?" she looked horrified at the thought. Well, she was more like mom than she realized, he thought bitterly.

"No, of course not, I would never!" he assured her. "It's nothing like that, Cindy, don't worry." He knew she'd understand if he told her the truth, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He wanted to try solving this himself first. He was also kind of afraid she'd tell something to their mother. And then… he didn't even want to think about it. He stood up. "I think I'm gonna go to bed. Will you be here for lunch tomorrow?"

"Sure. I'd give anything to see you get embarrassed again," she teased. She stood up as well and pulled him into a hug. "I just hope you know what you're doing, Mark."

"I'll be fine," he promised. He slowly let go, and left the room.

Once in his old room, he quickly got ready for bed and got under the covers. He knew there was absolutely no way to get away from meeting this Sheila Goldberg the next day. His mother wouldn't let it go, not even after he told her he was seeing someone. Tammy would laugh so hard when he'd tell her about all this, he thought bitterly.

He tossed and turned, but couldn't fall asleep. He heard Cindy and her family when they left. He heard his mother going upstairs. She stopped in front of his door, as if wondering whether or not to check on him, but eventually she decided against it as her steps echoed down the hall.

Everything went quiet, except for sounds from the street. Every now and again a car would pass by. Two cats were talking to each other in some unfamiliar cat language. God, he hated those nights when he couldn't sleep. Usually, it happened when he had too much on his mind. And tonight, it was her voice he couldn't stop thinking about. He couldn't stop trying to interpret what she told him on the phone. Of course, it was easier to admit all that when they weren't facing one another, but did she really mean that? It felt as if she was talking about herself, but what if he was making a huge, stupid mistake simply because he wanted her back?

Wait a minute… Who said he wanted her back?

Sure, there were millions of times in the past in which he did, but he thought he was over that time. Especially after she left them. Yet somehow now, as she got back, it was like those ten years never existed. Like she had never left, like he had never hated her for leaving. He loved spending time with her. She was her old self, but at the same time she wasn't. And he loved the change she went through. And Libby… although he had only known her for several days, he loved that little girl as if she was his own.

I just keep thinking that she's not good enough for you.

How could she possibly think that? Didn't she know how much she meant to him back then when they were together? And right now? Of course she was good enough for him, no one was better! Well, he'd simply have to prove her wrong on that one. And once he got to that decision, he drifted off to a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

A/N- sorry the ending is a bit lame, you guys. next chapter is New Years so wait for it. and umm... review? you know you want to!