*Lena*
Abigail had spent the last two hours bossing me and Elaine around as we snipped roses in the front garden, filling heaping baskets of roses and whatever other blooms we could find in the garden. Elaine gave me a look as Abigail slowly went through each basket, pulling out what she must have thought were prized flowers based on the judging look on her face, and placing them in clear vases of water and some special solution to keep them full and perky until the wedding reception.
My fingers were raw and shriveled from wearing gardening gloves all afternoon. I tossed the gloves on the bistro table in the sunroom and unstrapped the baby carrier from my chest, lifting Alexis out of her cozy nap spot that had left my shirt damp with sweat. Alexis’s legs were still reflexively tucked into her stomach, her little fingers curling into fists as she blinked into the soft sun filtering through the windows and grimaced.