Nicholas had been changing Max, and he had carried him to the phone in the kitchen with his snaps all undone. He placed the baby on the kitchen table, cradling his head on a stack of napkins. At the cadence of his wife's voice, he had suddenly become very still. It was as if the air had stopped circulating, as if the only motion was the quick kick of Max's legs and the insistent pounding of blood behind Nicholas's ears.