I followed them back in the house.
“Where’s Helene?” Mark asked Hilde as he set Brody down.
Hilde was still working in the kitchen. “Sienna woke up too early from her nap. Helene went upstairs to try to get her back down.”
Mark took Brody’s hand and led him into the living room. I hung back for a moment, but decided I’d prefer to watch Mark read to his child than try to make small talk with Hilde any day of the week. Brody sat on Mark’s lap, and Mark would read a sentence or two, pointing out words here and there for Brody to sound out. I watched them for a few minutes, waiting for Helene to come downstairs, and when she didn’t, I snuck off to find her, passing the penis drawing on my way upstairs.
I could hear her voice, and I followed it down the hall to a very pink bedroom. I stayed at the door, watching her silently. She was singing quietly to the little girl in her arms. Her hips swayed back and forth, and she stood in front of the window, looking out at the rain that was now coming down.
I could see the little girl’s fingers twisting in Helene’s hair, and I sank against the frame, listening to Helene’s voice. I didn’t know the song, but it sounded like a lullaby, given its mention of conversations with the moon, but I did know Helene’s voice. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was. How had I forgotten that?
There was one particular line in the song that sent a shiver through my body. It was about the light the moon had bestowed on a child illuminating the dark in a room. All I could think about was the yellow flower in the snow, and how much warmth this woman had the power to give me.
I caught myself digging my fingers into the frame of the door as I clung to it, and by the time she finished singing, Sienna’s fingers had stilled in Helene’s hair.
“I love you, peanut,” she whispered.
She carefully laid Sienna in her small bed, and she pulled the blankets over her. When she turned toward me, she started for a second, clutching her hand to her chest, but then she smiled. Her eyes were glossy even though her lips were pulling up—as though the song she’d been singing or the fact she’d been singing it to her niece had affected her emotionally in some way. She walked past me out the door, pulling the door closed behind her.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
“Hi.”
We stared at one another for a moment saying nothing more. All I could see was her wasting away in pain. I never should have asked Mark to talk about that time in Helene’s life. I cleared my throat as I looked away, and when I looked back, her brow was furrowed.
“What was that song you were singing?” I asked her. I wanted to know, but I also just really needed to move on from the thoughts circling in my head.
“The Sweetest Gift. Sade.” Her brow still hadn’t unfurrowed.
“I like it.”
“Are you okay?” She reached for my waist, slipping her hands underneath my shirt as she stepped closer.
I nodded, leaning down and letting my lips touch the top of her head. But it was lie. I wasn’t okay.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Helene
Kane took the keys from me when we left, and we ran quickly out to the car, getting soaked on the way. His longer hair hung in his face, and he pushed it back off his forehead. He was silent as we drove, but he reached over, taking my hand.
When he headed toward his own house instead of mine, I didn’t say a word. When he sat in silence beside me after pulling into his driveway without asking me to come in, I didn’t react. And when he reached for my hand, I bit my lower lip.
He leaned over and kissed me. “I need to get some work done. I’ll call you later.” His voice was too quiet, his eyes too hesitant. I didn’t like this.
I nodded, trying to figure out his mood. But I couldn’t, and when he opened the door and climbed out, I did too. I ran around the car quickly as the rain poured down on me. I said nothing as I pulled the door open, but he stopped walking, and I paused, still standing in the rain.
He turned to face me and closed the space between us, placing his hands on top of mine as I clutched the top of the door. “I know you don’t think your life is beautiful,” he said quietly. “And I know it hasn’t always been. But, Hell, your life is so … fucking … beautiful.” His mouth pulled up in an odd smile, but his lips trembled.
I nodded, not even sure what I was nodding at. I was confused. I was also afraid. I wanted more than anything to understand what was happening in his head right now, but I didn’t.
“I’ll call you later.” And he turned and walked away.