Mia brought books, drawings, and the same moon-shaped night-light. Grandma always pretended our visits disturbed her quiet. She was usually waiting on the porch before we finished parking.

One afternoon, Mia sat on Grandma’s living-room floor drawing while Andrew fixed a loose cabinet hinge. Grandma and I drank coffee at the kitchen table.

“Your mother called,” she said.

“What did she want?”

“To explain.”

“Did you listen?”