Someone had been tending it.
The roses were trimmed.
The beds were clear.
“Who’s been looking after the garden?” I asked.
The brothers exchanged a look.
“We have,” Paul said.
“We’ve been coming by every few weeks.
We didn’t know how to call you.
So we just — came and did the garden.”
I stood at the window and looked at the roses for a long moment.
“Why tonight?” I finally asked.
“Why graduation night?”
“Because Mom’s letter told us to,” Daniel said.
“She wrote the date down.
She said — ” He stopped.
Cleared his throat.
“She said, ‘By the time your father walks across that stage, you will have run out of excuses.
Don’t make him come home to an empty house.'”
The refrigerator kept humming.
Outside, the roses were very still.
I put my hand on the envelope in my pocket.
“I need a few minutes,” I said.
