The Emerson Family Garden became a community garden. Families from the nearby town received small plots. Children planted herbs where Jacob had once planted basil. Martin, now working on the irrigation system, designed a simple water line that reached every bed.
Daniel attended the opening and stood beside Judith near the door.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I am.”
“Happy?”
Judith looked across the greenhouse.
Jacob was kneeling beside a little girl who was pressing a seed into the soil. He listened seriously while she explained that the seed needed a song to grow.
“Very,” Judith said.
Daniel smiled. “Samuel would be pleased.”
“He would complain about the paint color.”
“He hated yellow.”
“He hated the wrong shade of yellow.”
They laughed.
Jacob came toward them with dirt on his sleeves.
“The children want you to cut the ribbon,” he told Judith.
“I thought you were running this.”
“I thought we were.”
The word rested warmly between them.
Judith walked to the entrance. A red ribbon stretched across the repaired doorway. The children gathered close, holding tiny paper flags painted with vines.
She took the scissors.
Before she cut, Jacob touched her shoulder.
“Mom.”
She looked at him.
“I found something else in the office.”
“What now?”
He smiled.
“A bill.”
“That is not a surprise.”
“It was from the year I was twelve. You paid for a school trip to the coast.”
“I remember.”
