"Um, okay..." Some people wanted to know where their loved ones were as they spoke, mostly to subconsciously back away from that spot, as though death were contagious. Ita seemed eager to envision her family reunited, as though maybe if she tried hard enough she'd be able to see her parents smiling fondly at her.
"Your mom is like, well, kind of behind your left shoulder. She's sitting on the step beside you, her knees almost touching yours." He studied Streva, trying to collect a lot of details. "One arm is across her legs, and the other is resting on her thigh, palm up. Like she's pretending to hold your hand or something." Details were Fisher's forte... describing them in this kind of instance was not.
"Your dad is next to me," he explained, turning away from Ita to get a look at Riden. He's a few steps down, so his head is right here." Fisher indicated where the top of Riden's head was, which settled a few inches above Fisher's knee line. "He keeps hitting my arm when he talks to me, like... I dunno, like he expects you to see his movement because I'm moving." He drummed his fingers on the tops of his thighs. "Is that good enough?"