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?”
