1
Her mother had asked Nina to translate at the tailor’s appointment because Grandfather wanted his old jacket altered for Nina’s graduation. Before they left, her mother handed Nina the claim envelope and explained that he would agree to anything rather than admit he was confused. Nina tucked the envelope into her bag. At fourteen, she was usually the person someone reminded to bring things.
2
On the bus, Grandfather carried the jacket across his knees, its sleeves crossed neatly over the front. He asked whether she would wear the silver earrings he had given her. She answered in Arabic, then rehearsed in English what she would tell the tailor. He watched the passing storefronts. At home, someone always explained television jokes to him, usually after he had stopped smiling.
3
The tailor, Ms. Bell, stood Grandfather before three mirrors and slipped the jacket over his shoulders. Nina stationed herself beside the raised platform, where she could see all their reflections. The mirrors made a small, well-lit stage of the fitting area. When Ms. Bell asked what needed changing, she looked at Nina.
4
Grandfather pulled gently at the cloth above his elbows. He wanted room there, he told Nina, but he did not want the shoulders made larger. Nina explained that he wanted the jacket more comfortable. Ms. Bell nodded and began lifting the shoulder seams between her fingers. Grandfather’s hands settled at his sides.
5
“We can give him a cleaner line,” Ms. Bell said. “He’ll probably be sitting through most of the ceremony anyway.” Nina translated the first sentence and added that the jacket would look nice in photographs. The second sentence seemed unnecessary, something that might make him feel old. In the mirror, his eyes moved from Ms. Bell to Nina, though his head remained still.
6
“And when I stand?” he asked in English. Ms. Bell lowered her hands. Nina repeated his question, more clearly, although neither adult had asked her to. Grandfather bent one arm. The sleeve caught above his wrist, exposing the pale strip where his watchband usually rested. He held it there.
7
Nina remembered an afternoon when he had searched for a word while telling her mother about a neighbor. Her mother had supplied three possibilities, then finished the story herself. Afterward, she said that he was becoming stubborn about accepting help. Nina had agreed. Now she could remember the spoon suspended in his hand, but not which word he had been trying to find.
8
“Sitting is also with elbows,” he said. His English was deliberate, the words spaced unevenly, but he was looking at Ms. Bell. “I clap for her. I carry the flowers. This part must move.” He pinched the sleeve again, exactly where he had first shown Nina. This time Ms. Bell followed his fingers.
9
Nina felt herself turn warm beneath her collar. She had translated comfort, which was true, and left out nearly everything he meant by it. Yet he had let her speak. She studied his reflection for an accusation, or perhaps a smile that would make the whole thing harmless. He was watching the tailor examine the sleeve.
10
Ms. Bell pulled a stool closer and turned back the lining. She explained that there was enough cloth inside to widen the sleeve, although the old stitching might leave a visible trace. Now she addressed Grandfather, occasionally glancing toward Nina. He listened without nodding. When she described how the fabric might retain the marks, he touched Nina’s wrist and asked her to explain.
11
For a moment, she was pleased that he needed her, and then less pleased with her pleasure. She translated the warning carefully, including the possibility that the marks would remain even after pressing. Grandfather asked a question in Arabic about the outside of the sleeve. Nina passed it on without answering it herself. Ms. Bell turned the cloth toward him.
12
He examined the exposed seam, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. Nina waited while he considered it. Beyond the fitting area, a machine rattled and stopped; someone shook out a length of fabric with a sound like a sheet snapping in wind. Finally, he said the marks would be acceptable. She translated that, too.
13
While Ms. Bell pinned the sleeve, Nina’s phone lit up with a message from her mother: Did he understand everything? Nina began typing that he understood more than anyone thought. She erased it. Across from her, he was asking Ms. Bell whether the jacket would be ready by Thursday, and waiting through her search of the order book.
14
Outside, he took the claim envelope from Nina and slid it into his own pocket. In the shop window, their reflections floated over the jackets on display. He lifted his arm to point out a bus approaching behind her. Along his shirtsleeve, a narrow fan of creases opened at the elbow, then folded together as his hand came down.