“I don’t know if I can work again,” I admitted.

“Then you don’t have to know today.”

We sat together by the window.

Leah told me about her garden, the neighbors, the ordinary things she had been careful not to complain about while my life seemed more difficult.

“You can complain about your tomatoes,” I told her.

She laughed.

“They’re a disgrace.”

I laughed too.