I took a breath.

“It’s paid work, and the students are counting on me.”

“Your cousin Peter is coming from out of town.”

“Then tell him I hope he has a lovely visit.”

For years I would have rearranged the workshop and apologized until Mom believed I’d tried hard enough.

This time I didn’t.

The change felt small and enormous at once.

The morning of the class, twelve people gathered in the greenhouse, including a retired teacher, two teenagers, and a young woman who had recently moved to town.