Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“It belongs in here now,” she said, gesturing to the empty room. “We have twenty-four hours before Ryan’s friends bring him back from the lake. We need to have this room ready.”
“Do you think he will come looking for us here?” I asked, setting the pink blanket on top of the window sill.
“He does not even know Shaun has the key to this place,” my mother said, her voice dropping into a firmer tone. “He thinks you are sitting in that kitchen in Oak Creek, waiting for him to decide when you can use the car.”
“I still have to go back there to get the rest of the baby clothes,” I said.
“We will do that tomorrow morning while he is still on the highway,” my mother said, picking up a wooden crib railing from the box. “Shaun will bring the truck.”
From the hallway below, the heavy thud of Shaun’s boots echoed as he carried his tools up the stairs. He stopped in the nursery doorway, holding a cordless drill and a handful of long brass screws.
