around the edges. Three petals up. Two petals down. A little curl at the bottom of the stem. Just like she taught me.
I’d carried it at my wedding to Mark. In the backyard, with Hannah standing in front of me holding
two stuffed rabbits.
I brought it downstairs and put it in Hannah’s hands.
“This was my mother’s,” I said. “I added the flowers after she passed. I carried it when I marriedTrack Pregnancy
your dad.”
Hannah unfolded it slowly.
She looked down at it. At the little violets around the edges.
And she went very, very still.
She stared at those violets for a long time. Longer than anybody would stare at a handkerchief. Her thumb moved slowly over one of the flowers. Back and forth. Back and forth. Tracing the little
curl at the bottom of the stem.
“Hannah?” I said. “Honey? Are you okay?”
