Turn 148 of 233

Tell her about the crew's reaction and share a funny story from the site. Her and Samuel surprise visit us tomorrow

The phone is warm against Lena's ear and the truck is running and the AC is pushing stale air and Kimo is asleep in the car seat and the asleep is the deep asleep of a boy who crawled across a blanket six times today and earned every inch of it. The line is still open and Janet is still there and the there is the there of a mother who is proud and scared and proud.

"The crew saw it first," Lena says. "Marco was on the nail gun and he just stopped. The gun stopped and he looked over and his mouth was open and the mouth stayed open for about three seconds before anything came out. He said 'he's moving' like he was seeing a ghost."

Janet laughs. The laugh is short and bright and the brightness is the brightness of a grandmother hearing about her grandson and the hearing is the thing she needs.

"And Daryl — you remember Daryl, the slow nodder — he said 'he's two months old' and the way he said it was like he was reading a printout that didn't match the specs. The nod was the slowest I've seen it. I think it took him a full ten seconds to process."

"And Frank?" Janet says. "The quiet one?"

"Frank said 'he's big.' That's it. Two words. Frank is a man of few words and every one of them is the right one."

"He is big," Janet says. "He's — Lena, he's twenty-three pounds at two months. That's —"

"He's building his own chart, Mom. Dr. Parekh said so."

"His own chart," Janet says. The echo is soft and the softness is the softness of a woman who is making room for something she doesn't understand and the making room is the love.

"Oh — I have to tell you this," Lena says. The voice shifts and the shift is the shift of a woman who is about to tell a story she has been saving.

"Tuesday morning. I'm on the pad stretching, right? O-line stretches — hips open, glutes engaged, the whole routine. And Kimo's in the harness, humming away, vibrating against my chest. Tuki's wife sent extra plantains from Monday, so I'm eating one while I stretch and the plantain is — it's gone. The boy reached up and grabbed it right out of my hand. Two months old and he snatched a plantain out of his mother's hand while she was mid-stretch."

The laugh that comes through the phone is the laugh Lena hasn't heard in months — the real laugh, the one that fills the room, the one Janet used to do when Lena was small and would say something that cracked her open. The laugh is big and full and the fullness is the fullness of a mother who is laughing about her grandson and the laughing is the closest she has been to Lena in weeks.

"He ate it?" Janet says. The voice is still laughing.

"He gummed it to death. The whole thing. Plantain all over his face, all over my chest, all over the harness. Tuki saw it and said 'that's my wife's plantains — he has good taste.' And Marco said 'he's got your appetite' and Frank said nothing and the nothing was the funniest thing because Frank's face was — you had to see it, Mom. The man was trying so hard not to smile."

"He sounds wonderful," Janet says. The laughing is done but the warmth is still there and the warmth is the warmth of a woman who has just heard her grandson steal a plantain and the hearing has made her day.

"He is wonderful. He's — he's perfect, Mom."

"Send me the video of the crawling. And the plantain."

"I'll send both tonight."

The line is quiet for a moment and the quiet is the quiet of Janet deciding something. Lena can hear it — the small intake of breath, the pause, the way the silence shapes itself before a mother speaks.

"Samuel and I are coming tomorrow," Janet says. The voice is careful and the careful is the careful of a woman who knows the visit might be complicated and is coming anyway.

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow morning. Early. We'll drive up tonight and stay at the motel off the highway. We'll be at your place by seven."

"You don't have to —"

"We want to see him crawl, Lena. Samuel wants to see it. He won't say it but he does. I know my husband."

"Seven o'clock," Lena says. "I have to be at the site by five-thirty but I'll —"

"We'll come to the site," Janet says. "We've done it before. Samuel liked it."

"Samuel liked the work," Lena says. "Samuel tolerates the rest."

"Samuel loves his grandson," Janet says. The correction is gentle and the gentle is the gentle of a mother who has been mediating between her husband and her daughter for a year and the mediating is the muscle she has built.

"And his daughter. Even if he doesn't say it the way you want him to."

The drive home is the drive home and the sun is low and the truck is warm and Kimo sleeps and Lena drives and the driving is the driving of a woman whose parents are coming tomorrow and the coming is the thing she didn't know she wanted and the wanting is the structure and the structure holds.