I laughed despite myself.

Claire had indeed been a terrible gardener.

The flowers survived because they were stubborn, which she had considered a compliment.

That weekend Rachel and I took Hailey to a nursery.

She picked yellow marigolds, purple petunias, and one small rosemary plant because she liked the smell.

We planted them in pots on Rachel’s back steps so she wouldn’t have to return to the old patio before she was ready.

Hailey made a sign in uneven block letters: CLAIRE’S GARDEN.