“Mom came back too.”
“I see that.”
Lauren stood a few feet off, the pink suitcase handle in her fist, her eyes raw from the flight or from the week. She waited to be invited into the greeting and did not assume it. Derek stood and took the suitcase. “Car’s in the garage,” he said. “You can tell me the ugly parts on the way or you can tell me tomorrow. He’s fed? He’s yours to put to bed or mine. Your choice, and his.”
“Yours,” Mason said, immediately, and then looked at Lauren, worried that speed was a betrayal. “You can come up and say goodnight. I just want Dad to do the book.”
“That’s a good plan,” Lauren said. Her voice held. “Hi, Derek.”
“Hi.”