Say something. I'm sitting on my kitchen floor. He said a pause. Then a sound he loved that surprised involuntary laugh. Why?
Because I needed to be closer to the ground for this. She laughed again longer. And then beneath the laugh, something else. Something breaking open quietly in the best possible way. I have to call the foundation contact.
She said Darius's person. He said to call him the moment I heard. Call him first. Call me after Marcus. Call him Olivia.
This is your work. Make the call. A beat. Okay. Another beat.
Okay. I'll call you after. She hung up. Marcus sat on his kitchen floor for another full minute. Then Ava appeared in the doorway backpack located wearing it over one shoulder with the practiced casualness of someone who considers punctuality a personality flaw.
She looked at him on the floor. He looked up at her. Ms. Olivia got the grant. He said Ava's face did the thing it did when something mattered. The quick stillness, the recalibration, and then the smile that came from somewhere deeper than 7 years old.
She sat down on the floor next to him. They sat there together for a moment, father and daughter, on the kitchen tile at 7:23 in the morning, not saying anything. Then Ava said, "Can we do something to celebrate? " "What did you have in mind? " She thought about it. "Chocolate lava cake." He looked at her. "Ava, she told me it's her favorite, too." I checked.
It was research. He pressed his lips together against the smile. Go get in the car. She got up, already moving with the certainty of someone whose plan has been accepted. Marcus pushed himself off the floor, picked up his keys, and thought, "3 months ago, I was just trying to keep the yard from embarrassing me at a birthday party." He thought about how much had changed.