She had to rise early in the morning. But then a quick trip to the kitchen to snag a bun and a hard-boiled egg, and she was outside. It seemed like a garden all the more in the dew. Roses and lilies everywhere, snapdragons and black-eyed susans and more blossoms.
The cross on the stone was a bit hard to pick out, if you did not know what to look for. But she probably would have found it only by the memorized steps.
She sat by it, quiet and companionable, and ate her breakfast.
"You don't need an umbrella," said April-Lily, blinking.
"That's a joke," said Augusta, taking up hers. I'm not some kind of fool, she thought, and out on the porch, she was vindicated: a shower began between their leaving the door and her stepping on the way.
Her laugh ringing, April-Lily ran out into the rain.