A laugh burst out of Winnie, and all three kids stopped talking to gape at her.
It still happened sometimes. Those little pauses where the children seemed almost startled by how much they liked her. Honestly, I understood the feeling.
We entered the botanical gardens through a wrought iron archway wrapped in climbing roses.
Billie gasped dramatically. “Oh my god.”
An elderly woman nearby looked scandalized.
Billie pointed toward a massive floral installation shaped like a butterfly. “That’s the biggest flower bug I’ve ever seen.”
The old woman relaxed.
Then Billie added, “Do you think it eats people?”
The old woman looked alarmed again.
Winnie bent slightly toward Billie. “Only the rude ones.”
“Good. I’ll be safe, then.”
The gardens stretched out around us in bursts of spring color. Tulips. Peonies. Dogwoods. Wisteria climbing over white trellises. Families wandered along winding paths while fountains splashed quietly nearby.
It was easy to see why Jade had loved this place.
I waited for the ache to slice through, but it didn’t. Lately, thinking about Jade hurt less than it used to.
CJ darted ahead toward a stone statue near the center path, but Bianca stopped at the first informational plaque like she’d discovered buried treasure.
“Papaver orientale,” she read aloud reverently. “Oriental poppy.”
Winnie walked beside her. “Used medicinally in several forms throughout history.”
Bianca’s head whipped around. “You know about this, too?”
“Plants and old remedies have been a hobby of mine for quite some time.”
Bianca launched into rapid-fire discussion. “Foxglove can regulate heart arrhythmias but also poison you if prepared improperly. Monkshood was historically used on arrows. Nightshade gets overrepresented in fiction because hemlock is actually more practical?—”
“Correct,” Winnie said with all the calmness in the world.
Bianca visibly lit up. She was engaged in a way I hadn’t seen much before Winnie entered our lives. The two of them drifted over to a section of medicinal herbs. Bianca pointed excitedlyat different plants, and Winnie listened attentively. It struck me again how she wasn’t like other adults, who would only nod absentmindedly. She was really listening to my little girl, giving her the one-on-one intellectual conversation Bianca craved.
A few feet away, Billie was trying to climb onto a decorative boulder next to the koi pond.
“Billie,” I warned.
“I’m exploring.” She jumped from one slippery rock to the next.
“You’re going to fall.”
“Adventure requires risk.”
Winnie glanced over without missing a beat. “Most adventurers died terrible deaths.”
Billie paused, one foot in the air, ready to jump to the next rock. “Really?”
Winnie grimaced for effect. “Horrible.”
