A Mother Would Know (35)
I went to bed fairly early, but then tossed and turned for a bit before falling asleep. When I did, I fell hard and deep. That’s why I didn’t hear my phone at first when it rang. When I did awaken, it was by Darren’s rough hand, shaking my shoulder.
“Your phone,” he said, his voice groggy.
It was past midnight. Who would be calling?
The kids.
Were they still out?
My pulse spiked.
“Hello,” I answered.
“Mom,” Hudson’s voice was strangled, panicked. I glanced over at Darren, who was already starting to fall back asleep. For being such an involved parent during the day, he was sure a disappointment at night. It was the same when they were infants. I’d be rudely awakened by a baby’s wails only to find Darren snoring away, not a care in the world. I’d feel nothing but resentment for him as I peeled myself from the sheets and slunk down the hallway toward the nursery, where I was greeted by a red-faced crying baby. Then again, it was Darren who got up for early-morning feedings while I slept in, so I suppose it was a wash. I just couldn’t see it at the time.
“Yes? It’s me.” I sat up straighter in bed.
“Mom,” he repeated, and now there was no doubt something was very wrong. My son was fifteen, not two. His days of repeating “Mom” over and over had long past. “I need you to come quick. Something bad happened. I can’t—” he choked “—I can’t tell you. Just please come.”
A thousand scenarios ran through my mind as I headed to the field overlooking the American River, where—I learned—my son, his girlfriend and their friends had been drinking and partying. But my imagination could never have prepared me for the truth.
* * *
Kendra is waiting for me at her front door when I arrive. Probably wondering what took me so long. I can usually make it to her house in less than ten minutes. But I don’t usually have to sneak out of a house I’ve broken into and run back to mine before coming over. I barely have time to walk into the entryway before she thrusts Mason into my arms. She’s wearing jeans and a blazer, flats on her feet, a purse hanging from her shoulder.
“He’s just been fed,” she says, palming her keys and moving around me. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. But I’ll keep in touch.”
“Wait.” I turn, wishing I could reach out and grab her arm, but mine are securely fastened around Mason. “Where are you going?”
“The police station.” She says it like I’m daft.
I open my mouth to ask more questions, but she’s already stepped outside, the door closing loudly behind her.
Mason coos in my arms. Kicks his pale, chubby legs. I bounce him up and down as I stare out the front window. Kendra backs her car out of the driveway. Her mouth is set in a hard, determined line. My stomach twists as I try to work out what’s going on.
Does Theo have something to do with what happened to Molly?
I think about how uncomfortable he’d been in the hospital when Kendra had been in labor. The sight of Kendra in pain distressed him—and he didn’t have the stomach for the mess, the blood. A couple of times I thought he’d pass out. I mean, he practically gags every time he changes Mason’s diaper.
And it’s not just bodily messes that gross him out. Glancing out at the pristine front lawn, I think about how he and Kendra hired a landscaper the moment they moved in here.
Theo doesn’t like getting his hands dirty.
He always drives the speed limit, and according to Kendra, he never even partied in high school. Didn’t drink until he turned twenty-one.
He’s not a risk-taker.
He’s stable and responsible, matter-of-fact, logical. All the things Kendra wanted from a husband. I’ve never seen him lose his temper, and I’ve been around in times when he probably should have. After Mason was born, I helped around their house a lot. Kendra picked and nagged at him incessantly during those days, and they were both exhausted, running on almost no sleep. But still, he kept his cool. It’s only been recently that I’ve even seen them argue openly. He did appear frustrated with Kendra the other night, but I understood that. She could wear anyone down. Besides, he didn’t raise his voice and I never thought he was in danger of exploding on her. I’ve been around men who were loose cannons before. Men who had anger and violence simmering under their skin.
That wasn’t Theo.
Before they got married, I warned Kendra that I didn’t see a lot of passion or enthusiasm from Theo. She scoffed at that, saying that life wasn’t a sporting event. She didn’t need a cheerleader. She needed a partner. It wasn’t exactly what I meant, but by her response, I could tell we desired very different things from a romantic relationship.
No, there’s no way Theo did anything to that girl. Besides, what would his motive be?
Turning away from the window, I rain down soothing words of love onto Mason’s head. I sink down into the leather recliner, pushing off with the toe of my shoe, causing it to rock gently back and forth. Mason nestles into my chest, a squishy ball of softness that feels like heaven in my arms.
In front of me sits the sleek granite coffee table, decorative gold shapes (octahedrons, Kendra once told me) and a planter sitting on top. Beyond that, the leather sectional couch, piled high with throw pillows in muted tones, matching with the large painting of the New York skyline on the wall. Next to it is a tall wicker basket filled with fuzzy throw blankets. Kendra’s house is the opposite of mine. Modern and trendy. Darren would’ve loved it.