"All right, then. Thank you."
"All right."
When Elias met Emory, "You're the bench man."
"Yes, sir. Elias Ward."
"Sit down, Elias Ward. Let me look at you. My daughter gave you her last $100. I raised her to do things like that, so I can't be mad about it. But I am curious about the man who got it."
"Ask me anything you want."
"You built a company from a one-bedroom apartment?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you build anything with your hands? I'm a carpenter. Was a carpenter. I respect a man who can build something he can touch."
"My mother made me help her build a bookshelf when I was 14. It leaned about 10 degrees to the left, and we used it for six years anyway."
"That sounds about right. My wife, Faith, Nia's mother, would have decided whether she liked you before you finished your first sentence. She had a gift for reading people. Took me about four years to stop being nervous around her."
Emory grew serious. "You lost your mother 14 months ago. Then you understand what this room means. You understand what my daughter is carrying."
"I do, sir."
"Good. Then keep showing up."
Later, Nia caught Elias with another lunch. "You don't have to keep bringing me lunch."
"I know I don't have to."
"Mm-hmm. Where have I heard that before? Fine. What did you bring me?"
"Turkey on wheat and an apple. Your father told me that's what you like."
"You and my father are talking about me behind my back now."
"Extensively."
Nia asked, "Can I ask you something? Your mother. What was she like?"
Elias said, "She spent her last year in a facility a lot like your father's. Same kind of room. Same thin curtains. And I was so busy with the company that I wasn't there enough. I would tell myself I'd go tomorrow, and then tomorrow would come and I'd be in a meeting or on a plane."
"Elias."
"After she died, I sat on the floor of her kitchen holding a box of every birthday card I ever made her, all the way back to when I was five. She kept every single one. And I could not make myself stand up. That's where the drifting started. I couldn't get up off that kitchen floor, and I don't think I really stood up again until you knelt down next to me on that bench."
Months later, Nia was back in nursing school and doing clinical work. Elias found her in a restricted area.
"You can't be back here, you know. This is a restricted area."
"I told the woman at the desk I was your ride. She waved me right through. I think she felt sorry for me."
"That's the only reason anyone does anything for you. Sit. I have four minutes, maybe five."
Elias said, "Can I tell you something? I have known you a few months now, and I have never once seen you look the way you look right now."
"And how do I look?"
"Awake. Like the whole rest of you finally showed up. Back at Brightway, you were surviving. Here, you're shining. I don't know the word. You're lit from the inside."
Nia said, "You want to know a secret? When my mother was sick, I used to sit with her and just take care of her. Little things. Fix her pillows, read to her, hold her hand when she was scared. It was the worst year of my life, but those hours in that room were the only time I ever felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be."