I wanted to be able to disagree with Vanessa without Mom declaring me the cruel one simply because I spoke more calmly.

“I won’t get it right immediately,” she admitted.

“I’m not asking for perfect.

I’m asking you to notice when it happens and try again.”

Before she left, she wandered between the tables of seedlings.

She stopped beside a flat of white dahlias and touched one leaf with the gentlest finger.

“These were at the wedding,” she said.

“I grew them for it.”