Coming To
"I made a box. It was about so big." The speaker spread his hands on the counter. "By about so wide." He indicated the other dimension, one palm by his stomach, the other out by a napkin holder.
The outer hand rose over a plate of eggs. "About so high."
A smaller man at the next stool nodded, lifting his coffee mug. "About so high."
About so high, Will repeated to himself.
"Made it for my daughter."
"For your daughter."
Made it for his daughter. Will joined the chorus. He couldn't see the box, but he could hear it.
"Took me some shiplap—nice and dry. Made her tight. No cracks."
"No sir."