Chapter 22
Two years later, Mom gave me Evelyn Hart's photograph. The one showing her laughing beneath the tree.
“I think you should have it.” “Why?” “Because I don't need the reminder anymore.” I looked at her. She smiled. “I remember her now.” “Who?” “Myself.”
I hugged her. Then she added, “Also, your apartment desperately needs better photographs.”
There was my mother. Some things didn't change.
Mara eventually left her corporate job. Not immediately. She spent nearly a year planning. She took classes in landscape design, something none of us knew she had secretly loved since college.
Her first major project was the garden at Ruth's Door. When she showed me the plans, I stared at them.
“A vegetable garden?” “Yes.” “That's ambitious.” “Herbs, tomatoes, flowers.”
Something in me tightened at the word garden. Mara noticed. “We can change it.”
I looked at the drawing. A path curved through raised beds. There was a bench beneath a maple tree. A small fountain. Nothing about it resembled the garden from my old house. Still, for one second, memory tried to claim it.
Then Ruth toddled onto the porch wearing one yellow rain boot and one purple one. She pointed at Mara's plan.
“Flowers!” Mara smiled. “Yes. Lots of flowers.”
I looked at my daughter. Then at the empty ground. “Keep the garden.” “You're sure?” “Yes.”
And I was. Because places did not belong permanently to memories. Sometimes we could grow something new in them.
That spring, we planted tomatoes. Mom planted lavender. Claire insisted on strawberries. Mara supervised all of us and complained about spacing. Ruth followed behind carrying a plastic watering can that was almost as large as she was.
“More water,” she announced. “That tomato has received enough water to qualify as a lake,” Mara told her. “More.” “Absolutely not.”
Ruth looked at me. I shrugged. “Your aunt is in charge.”
May you like
Ruth considered this injustice. Then she poured water on Mara's shoe. Claire laughed so hard she had to turn away. Even Mom laughed. Mara stared at her wet sneaker. “This family has no respect for expertise.”
Ruth clapped. I laughed too.
