The sound of Michael’s and Brady’s voices from the backyard was comforting, and it made me miss Lena. She’d been gone only a few days, but it would be another week before she was due to return. How quickly I’d become accustomed to having a friend right next door. I looked down at Grace’s little face, her eyes not fluttering shut as they should have been but wide open, impossibly bright, staring at me. She’d stopped nursing and was just looking, like she’d never seen me before.

She didn’t resist or protest as I lifted her to my shoulder, patting her on the back softly, and then a little more firmly until she burped. Then she pushed up again, twisting to look at me. No chance she’d be going to sleep anytime soon. If she insisted on three hours of this “quiet alert” stage and then I fed her again, maybe, just maybe, I could get to sleep by eleven, then feed her at three-ish in the morning, then get another few hours of sleep before rising at a normal hour.

I went to the back door and looked out. The yard was shadowy, the sun too low now to light it. Michael was kneeling on the ground, examining some part of the tiered garden structure, and while I couldn’t see Brady, I could hear him shout from the other side of the fence, “Try it now.”

Then an arc of water rose from beside Michael, curving up and over the top of the garden, falling on the tiers I couldn’t see, the ones on Brady and Lena’s side.

“Add the pulse,” Michael shouted back.

And the water changed from a smooth arc to a series of dashes, the flow of the water interrupted even as the arc remained. With a whoop, Michael stood and stepped back to admire his work.

I turned Grace to face the yard. Maybe she would see the light shining on the flashing water, or just her father and his eager, excited face.

Then Brady pushed back through the fence. “Looks even better from this side.”

“Now we just have to get your part rigged up.” Michael glanced back and saw me there. “Hey, isn’t it cool? We’ll have at least one from each side, like a water display. It has to be high-powered enough to sustain the arc, but not so much that it batters the plants.”

“Looks like the water feature at the Galleria.” Elizabeth and I had walked there just last week, pushing the babies past the designer stores, looking down at the skating rink, and people-watching, observing shoppers from all over the world.

“Or a mini Bellagio.” Michael slipped his arm around me and kissed the top of Grace’s head. I leaned in, loving the way we made a complete group, ready for our portrait.