It was a beautiful garden, flowers in scarlet and blue, and a shaded walkway with flagstones down it. The only ones walking down it were marmalade cats, orange in the sunlight.
"How lovely," Minette breathed out.
Clara nodded gravely. "We can always use hands to help."
After a minute she said, "My mother always had me sit in the shade and sew while she worked on the garden. Much as she loved me, she said I had a black thumb. . . ."
None of which changed how cold Clara's face grew. Minette sighed and hoped they would still let her eat the salads.