Fernando shifts in his sun patch. Diego surfaces from the water feature and shakes himself, droplets catching the light.
"You're not like the others," Grace says. "Joel sees me and he translates. Beck sees me and he adopts." She pauses. "You see me and you wait."
"Is that bad?"
"I don't know." Her voice is smaller than I've ever heard it. "I've never had someone wait before. I don't know what to do when someone gives me room without going anywhere."
"I'm good at waiting," I say. "I've spent years watching animals. You don't rush animals. You meet them where they are."
"I'm not an animal."
"No. You're better. You can tell me if I'm doing it wrong."
She laughs. "You're not doing it wrong."
We sit in the silence together. The sun moves across the sky, marking time in the way that existed before humans and will exist after us.
Grace finds my hand on the concrete floor between us and rests hers on top of it. "Hey Grant?"
"Yeah?"
"The round friends think you're good."
"The round friends told you that?"
"Fernando communicated it through eye contact. Diego confirmed via vibes."
"Vibes aren't scientifically measurable."
"Vibes are only scientifically measurable. You science people just haven't figured out the instrument yet."
"I think you might be right about that," I say.
She squeezes my hand. Then she lets go, stands up, stretches, and says something about Kevin getting into the candy room again, and Beck owing her a rematch at a card game I didn't know they were playing.
I watch her go. Fernando opens one eye, watches Grace leave, and closes the eye again.
"I know," I tell him.
Fernando doesn't respond. Fernando is a capybara. But I imagine he agrees.
Diego agrees too.
The round friends have opinions. And right now, their opinion is that something worth waiting for is beginning.
I agree.
24
GENTLE THINGS SURVIVE
GRACE
The garden part is different at night.
During the day, it's chaos. Grant moving through it all with the calm of a man who's accepted that his life is a nature documentary and he's both the narrator and the subject.
At night it transforms.