A Mother Would Know (36)

I don’t, but it certainly fits Kendra and Theo.

“I’ll never understand what it is about this house that appeals to you,” Kendra said shortly after Darren’s death. It was right after she’d tried to convince me to downsize, and I’d shot her idea down flat.

“It has character,” I said, immediately knowing it was the wrong way to go.

Kendra’s nose scrunched up. “It’s old. Everything in it is old.”

“Antique,” I corrected her. “There’s a difference.”

“Dad hated this house, too,” she said, looking at me as if to gauge my reaction.

If she was hoping for shock, she wasn’t going to get it. “Yeah, I know,” I said, and it was her face that flipped from smug to surprised.

“You knew?”

“Of course I did.”

“And you made him live here, anyway?”

I laughed. “I didn’t make him do anything. We chose together to buy this house and stay here. Marriage is full of compromise.”

“Seems Dad was the only one compromising,” she muttered, and as much as I wanted to tell her that wasn’t true, that she had no idea how much I’d compromised for Darren, I kept my mouth shut. She was grieving. Let her think what she wanted.

It wasn’t her business, anyway.

When I peer down at Mason, his eyes are closed, his eyelids fluttering as if dreaming. I stroke his head and continue rocking. Kendra doesn’t like when I hold him through a nap, but I have no desire to put him down. Besides, he looks too comfortable to move.

On the wall nearest the hallway, Kendra has hung a collage of family photos, all in matching frames, of course. It was an idea she got off of Pinterest. I stare at the newest one—a photo taken out in a large, leafy field, the sky sun-streaked, burnt orange and yellow hues mixed with the bright blue. Kendra holds Mason in her arms, his legs dangling, his face forward. Theo has his arm resting on her shoulders. All are smiling broadly, even Mason. The photographer was good.

A car engine roars out the window. I whip my head in the direction of it, knowing rationally that it won’t be Kendra, but hoping it will be. I wonder what the police are asking Theo. Is Kendra in with him or waiting out in the lobby?

Mason stirs, his fisted hands rubbing over his eyes, but he doesn’t wake. My legs are wearying of the constant rocking, but I don’t dare stop. When my own kids were babies, this was my least favorite part of the day. It felt like a waste of time to sit and rock them to sleep. I’d be restless, my mind a revolving door of all the things that needed to be done. All that I could be doing. Funny how differently I feel about my grandson.

Then again, life isn’t so busy anymore.

I find my own eyelids drooping slightly. Still rocking, I lean my head back and close my eyes for a moment.

I’m startled awake by a car door slamming, followed by Mason whining. How long have I been out?

Blinking, I lift my head from the chair. Mason stares up at me, blue eyes large and round. The front door pops open, Kendra stepping through. Hanging her purse on the hook near the door, she looks at Mason and me, raising her brows.

“Well, someone had a nap,” she says sourly.

I smile. “We both did, actually.”

She doesn’t smile back. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Mason’s eyes track his mom as she makes her way over to us. She bends down, gripping her son’s hands and shaking them gently. “Hi, there, little man. Looks like Grandma spoiled you, huh? Now you’ll expect to be held every time you nap. It’ll make it twice as hard for Mommy to get you down in your crib.” Even though her words are laced with sarcasm and irritation, she keeps that soothing, high-pitched tone reserved for Mason.

Why is she acting so normal? You’d think she returned from the grocery store, not the police station.

“Where’s Theo?” Outside, the sun is going down, the sky beginning to darken.

“He’s stopping at the store on the way home. We’re out of diapers.” She plucks her son from my arms, drawing him into her bosom. “I bet you’re hungry,” she says in a singsong way.

I follow her as she carries him into the kitchen. “Kendra, what happened at the police station?”

“Just a few routine questions.” Patting Mason’s back, she peers over her shoulder. “They questioned all of Molly’s work colleagues. Standard procedure, I guess.”

“Oh.” Leaning against the doorway, I cross my arms over my chest. “That makes sense.”

Kendra lowers Mason into his high chair and buckles him with a loud snap. “I’m sorry I made you come all the way over here. Theo didn’t need me. I just overreacted.”

“Well, that’s understandable. It’s not every day your husband gets questioned in a murder investigation.”

“True,” she says absently while spooning pureed sweet potatoes into a bowl and stirring it with a tiny spoon. “How are things at home...with Hudson?”

“Good,” I say, pushing off the wall and stepping further into the kitchen. “He’s working now.”

“Oh? That job he was telling us about? With Jared’s uncle?”

“Yeah,” I say.

She nods, loading up Mason’s spoon. “Well, at least he’s doing something.” After depositing it into her son’s mouth and wiping the excess with a rag, she says, “And how have you been feeling?”