Chapter 10: The Mother

Jameson's mother looked at the small hand held out to her.

She didn't take it.

She looked at Benji's face instead, for a long time, in the light from the gate lamp.

I knew what she was seeing. I'd watched it happen to her son four days ago.

"Mother," Jameson said.

"Good evening," she said to Benji. Her voice was faint. "Crumb is an unusual name."

"It's a nickname," Benji said. "My real name is Benji. Crumb is because I eat like a raccoon."

Her lips parted.

Jameson stepped through the gate.

"Not tonight," he said. "He's three, he had surgery on Tuesday, and he's going to bed."

She drew herself up.

"Tomorrow, then. I'll come at nine."

"Fine."

She looked at me one more time, from my heels to my hair.

Then she got back into the silver car and drove away.

Benji tugged my hand.

"She didn't shake," he said. "Is she shy?"

"Something like that, baby."

She came at nine exactly.

Jameson had made coffee in the main house and carried it out to the garden on a tray. He said it would be better outside.

The garden was the one thing about the house I'd loved without being afraid of it.

Brick paths. A fountain with a stone fish. Camellias I'd planted myself, now taller than me.

A gardener was edging the beds along the back wall. He tipped his hat to me.

Jameson's mother sat down at the iron table and arranged her linen skirt.

She'd brought a leather folder.

I sat across from her. Jameson stood behind my chair.

Benji was on the grass with the stegosaurus and Ollie's phone, watching a cartoon about volcanoes with the sound low.

"I'll be brief," she said. "I've spoken to my attorney."

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