Leo’s Hospital Papers Changed What I Thought I Knew About Vivian

The silver house key was still beside my plate when Daniel asked, “Did you give my mother a copy?”

I looked at the key, then at him. “No.”

He closed the lunch bag and checked the zipper twice.

“I should have asked you before she asked me,” he said.

“When did she ask you?”

“Yesterday afternoon. She wants one before the babies come.”

I put the mail into three neat stacks, bills, advertisements, and letters that needed an answer. “Why?”

Daniel picked up an apple and turned it in his hand. “She says it would make helping easier.”

“Helping with what?”

He set the apple down.

“The house. The babies. You.”

That answer was too broad for a key.

I slid the silver key away from my plate. “She can help without having access to the house.”

Daniel looked toward the kitchen doorway. “I thought you would say that.”

“Did