I am in NJ, under a slow ceiling fan, having celebrated the 85th birthday of my brother’s father-in-law. The two mother-in-laws are chatting about the overuse of cellphones; my niece is reading; and in another room my sister-in-law is teaching her father how to use free weights. I think my brother is with them. Traffic lulls by. It is summer. It is sultry without the wind. We are older than we think, yet the pulse beats. Outside on the terrace, the tomatoes grow incrementally bigger.