"Shalom," the voice on the other end answers.
"I was just returning your call," Ziva admits.
"I called twice," he points out.
"I was sleeping."
"Since when do you sleep so late?"
"I usually don't. Thing have been kind of hectic, around here."
"Your partner is spending an awful lot of time at your apartment, isn't he? Shouldn't the two of you be working?"
"I would really prefer if you didn't keep tabs on me. I am an adult. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I do not need your help."
"I have no choice, Ziva. You rarely speak to me."
"I have my reasons."
"How else am I supposed to know what you're doing?"
"You could pick up the phone."
"You do not answer my calls."
"I have been busy."
"With what?"
"Does it matter?"
"Ziva, I have heard rumors."
"What rumors?"
"I heard that you have a baby. I have told my people that simply cannot be true. I would have known if you did. Then I received pictures."
"What are you talking about?"
"Pictures that no one wanted to show me."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
"Isn't that their job? To show you pictures of me? To show you what I am doing, at all times?"
"They were pictures of you. Incriminating pictures."
"Incriminating how?"
"You looked pregnant, very pregnant."
"And?"
"I was hoping for some explanation."
"You were hoping that it wasn't true?"
"I do not like to be made a fool of, especially by my own daughter."
"I see."
"So this is where you tell me it is all part of come undercover mission, right?"
"Is that what you want to hear?"
"I want the truth, Ziva."
"The truth? Since when have you ever cared about that?"
"Just tell me the truth."
"It was not part of an undercover mission."
"Then you were pregnant."
"Yes."
"Is there a reason you did not tell me?"
"I didn't want you to know," she admits.
"Why not?"
"I do not have to have a reason."
"But you do."
"It is complicated."
"Why wouldn't you want me to know?"
"I was not planning on keeping it."
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Like I said, it is complicated."
"How complicated can it be?"
"It doesn't matter."
"So you were pregnant," he tries to clarify.
"Yes."
"And now you have a baby?"
"Yes."
"Were you ever planning on telling me?"
"Why would I have to tell you. You have me under surveillance, apparently. You should know all of this, without having to ask."
"You feel as if I have invaded your privacy?"
"Yes. I am no longer with Mossad. What I do, is none of your business, anymore."
"I have no choice. You do not share your life with me."
"And that is my choice, you should respect it."
"Tell me, is Tony the father?"
"Yes," she lies.
"That is why you did not want me to know?"
"Maybe," she shrugs.
"So are you going to tell me about this baby?"
"Tell you what?"
"Anything?"
"It is a boy."
"Does he have a name?"
"Ethan Malachi."
"A Hebrew name?"
"What did you expect?"
"I figured that you would choose something more American. You seem to try and distance yourself from your past, from your home."
"This is my home."
"For now."
"Forever."
"So do I get to meet him?"
"Meet who?"
"My grandson."
"I don't know."
"Ziva he is my grandson."
"Is that supposed to mean something, to me? A sense of family, has never meant anything to you, before."
"Please do not hold the mistakes of my past against me. Let me have second chance."
"A chance to do what? Fly out here once every five years, to see him? I do not want him to get attached to someone, that he cannot see, on a regular basis."
"So are you just going to cut me out of your life, forever? You are going to forbid me from seeing my own grandchild? My flesh, and blood?"
"I cannot trust you. I cannot count on you to keep your promises."
"Then I will make no promises. I am simply asking for a chance to meet him."
"Not now."
"Then, when?"
"A couple of weeks."
"A couple of weeks? Why? Is there something wrong with him?"
"No. There is nothing wrong with him."
"Then why do you want me to wait a couple of weeks?"
"I do not really feel like having visitors right now."
"Fair enough," he agrees.