The Smell of Cedar

"I like the way he smells after he's been asleep in his bed, he smells like cedar," she said. She turned her head toward him and began to speak in a voice only he gets. Her jaw tightened and eyes squinted, as she looked up at me, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, my hands clutching the top of the jam as I looked at her while she dug her fingernails deep behind his ears.

"The smell reminds me of pet gerbils I had as a kid," I said, "I never separated the father from the babies and he ate them." She looked up at me and knew the story was true. Her eyes stayed on me while her fingers dug behind his ears, waiting for more, but there was nothing.