Chapter 6
The footage was still playing on the black phone in my hand. I could hear Martha's voice from the dome camera audio, tight and sharp, and my own voice smaller underneath it. Leo had gone quiet against my hip, his face tucked into my turtleneck. The kitchen smelled like coffee that had gone cold.
I looked at Martha. She was still standing by the glass-pane door, her navy coat buttoned to the top, her gray bun neat. She'd arranged her face again after Connor had seen the screen.
"Martha," I said. My voice didn't come out loud. I had to breathe and try again. "I need you to leave for tonight."
She didn't move. Her eyes flicked to Connor, then back to me.
"I will not be put out of this house," she said. "Not after you've turned my son against me with a trick on your phone."
It wasn't a trick. The timestamp was in the corner, the white cabinets and the marble island behind us, my hands reaching for Leo while she held him back. But she said it like she believed it, or needed Connor to believe it.
I kept one hand on Leo's back. His overalls were damp where he'd cried into me. "It's not a punishment," I said. "Leo needs quiet. We all need space to figure out what just happened. Please go home for the night. We can talk tomorrow."
Martha turned her shoulders toward Connor. Her voice softened. "Connor. You heard her. She is telling your own mother to get out. After I came here to help you with your son."
Connor was standing between the island and the door, his olive bomber jacket still zipped, his hands at his sides like he didn't know what to do with them. He'd been looking at the phone, then at my cheek, then at Leo.
"Mom," he said. "That's not— She didn't tell you to get out forever. She's asking for tonight."
"You would let her do this?" Martha said. She reached for his arm. "I raised you in that apartment by myself after your father left. I never once let anyone speak to me that way in my own family. And now this girl—"
I felt Leo flinch at her tone. I shifted him to my other hip and took a step back toward the white cabinets, putting more of the wood floor between us.
"I'm not a girl in your family," I said as evenly as I could. "I'm Leo's mom. I'm asking you, calmly, to give us the night."
Martha's mouth tightened. "I have every right to be here. He's my grandson. You're keeping him from me."
"You held him away from me," I said. "The camera showed it. Connor saw it."
She stared at me, and for a second I saw something flash behind the distress, quick and controlled. Then she looked back at Connor and her eyes watered.
"Connor, honey, please," she said. "Tell her. Tell her I don't have to leave my son's house because she got upset."
The recessed lights hummed over us. Outside the glass pane it had gotten darker, the daylight gone blue. I could see our reflections in the door.
Connor swallowed. He didn't look at Martha when he spoke. He looked at me, then at Leo.
"Mom, I need you to step outside for a little bit," he said. His voice was low and it shook. "Just to decompress. Just for tonight. Not like this."
Martha's hand dropped from his arm. "Outside? You're sending me outside? Like a stranger?"
"To your car, to get air," Connor said. "I'll walk you out. We can talk on the sidewalk. But not in here. Not right now."
I didn't say anything. I was holding my breath without meaning to. Leo's breathing had slowed against my chest, but his hands were still fisted in my sweater.
Martha looked at Connor as if she'd expected a different answer. She glanced at the black phone still lit on the island, at the dome camera in the ceiling corner, as if noticing it for the first time again.
"This is how you want it," she said. It wasn't a question.
Connor reached past her and turned the handle on the glass-pane door. Cold air came in and lifted the edge of my skirt. He held the door open with one hand and gestured with the other, not pushing, just waiting.
Martha picked up her purse from the kitchen chair where she'd left it. Her movements were precise. She didn't look at me as she walked past Connor and out the door. Her black flats made almost no sound on the wood, then a sharp click on the concrete outside.
Connor stayed in the doorway for a moment. He watched her walk toward the driveway, then he eased the door closed but didn't lock it. The kitchen went quiet except for the refrigerator running.
Leo lifted his head. His curls were mashed on one side and his cheeks were pink.
"Grandma go outside?" he whispered.
"Yeah, buddy," I said. I smoothed his hair. "She went outside to get some air."
May you like
Connor turned back from the door. His face was still pale, his eyes on my cheek. He didn't come closer yet.
The house was quiet, but none of the tension had left it. It was just on the other side of the glass now, waiting.
