The Baby Monitor Caught Him, So I Played It at Sunday Dinner novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: Last Night

On Saturday night we made the pie together, which was Jonas's idea and a mistake.

He peeled the apples with a pocketknife, in one long curl each, the way his grandfather had taught him.

I rolled the dough and told him he was cutting them too thick.

"They're fine," he said.

"They'll never cook."

"They'll cook. I'll sit on the oven door and make them."

The baby was in her bouncer by the stove, kicking at a plastic giraffe.

Flour was on my forearms and on his nose, and the radio was playing something old with a steel guitar.

For an hour I forgot.

I laughed at the pocketknife, and at the long apple curls he hung over my ears like earrings.

He kissed the flour off my cheek.

Then I looked at the clock, and it was 8:40.

Tomorrow at one I would put my phone against a speaker in his mother's dining room.

I put the pie in the oven and shut the door.

"Marty."

"I'm fine," I said.

"You went somewhere."

"I'm right here."

I took his hand off the counter and led him upstairs.

The baby was asleep in her crib, and her monitor sat on the dresser with its small green eye.

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