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“That’s a lovely idea, but I have to admit I don’t exactly have a green thumb,” I replied. The older woman turned and smiled up at me. At that moment, she looked radiant, her eyes bright and shiny as she sat there, happily covered in dirt and grass stains.

“Well, then, get down here so I can show you,” she replied. I laughed but realized she was very serious. I bent down slowly until I was kneeling in the dirt.

“My name is Lilah. Do you live around here?” The woman turned to me, ready to reply, but she froze. A lost look came over her face, and her eyes moved around wildly.

“Of course. I live right over…I…We were living in South Carolina—no, Florida. But there aren’t any palms here.” She was clearly distressed, her expression confused as she looked around my backyard. Gently placing my hand on her shoulder, I waited until her gaze focused on me.

“Can you tell me more about the garden? I’d love to get it back into shape, Mrs…” I trailed off as the woman started smiling, shrugging off whatever stupor had taken over.

“Call me Elizabeth, dear. None of that formal nonsense. Now, let’s start with the basics and get rid of these weeds.”

She moved efficiently, yanking at the plants until they were ripped from the earth, roots and all. Pointing at one, she nodded at me. “Now you try.”

As I grasped the plant and started to pull it from the ground, I tried to learn more about my new guest.

“How’s your family, Elizabeth?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.

“Eliot is good, but boy, does he fuss over me. Acts like he’s the parent. Spends all his free time here when he’s not doing something for his brothers.”

“Oh, how many boys do you have?” I asked at the mention of brothers.

“Club brothers, dear. Eliot is a member of The Reaper’s Guard.” I had no idea what she was talking about, so I just nodded and smiled.

“So your son, Eliot. Does he live around here?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. The clubhouse isn’t more than fifteen minutes away.”

“Can I possibly have his number? I need help moving some furniture around. Could use some help from him and his…brothers.” I made it up quickly, hoping I made enough sense.

“Of course! I’m sure we can get the boys over here in a jiffy.” Taking my cell phone out of my pocket, I asked for his number and quickly entered it into my phone.

“It’s getting pretty warm out here. Do you want to take a break and have a glass of tea inside?” I asked, and I was grateful when Elizabeth agreed easily.

Once she was seated at my kitchen table with a drink, I excused myself and stepped into my studio. Closing the door behind me, I dialed the number Elizabeth had given me. I was a little nervous when, after only a few rings, a deep voice answered.

“Who is this?” No hello, no greeting. His voice was raspy, and I hesitated, startled by his response.

“Hi Mr.—um, sorry, is this Eliot? Elizabeth’s son?” I finally stuttered out.

“What’s wrong? Is Mom okay?” The urgency in his voice was tangible.

“She’s okay. I found her in my backyard. I guess she saw my garden and decided it needed work.” I tried to joke, but there was only silence on the other end.

“Anyway, I just moved here, and I haven’t met all of the neighbors yet. I’m not exactly sure which house is hers.”

“Text me your address. I’ll be there in half an hour.” The phone went dead before I could reply, but there wasn’t much more to say. Clearly, Elizabeth was suffering from some sort of memory condition, and I was sure her son was concerned. Texting my address, I went back to the kitchen to sit down with Elizabeth.

“So, when you’re not gardening, what else do you like to do?” I asked once I settled at the table.

“Oh! Well, I was an English teacher, so I love to read,” she replied, her face relaxing at the topic.

“That’s lovely. You must have quite the library.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve got all the classics. I’ve got to hide my harlequins, though. Eliot would keel over if he saw them. Do you know anything about that new series with the fairies? I’ve been dying to try it,” she whispered, her eyes excited.

“I’ve heard of it, but I haven’t read it yet. You’ll have to let me know what you think.”

“As long as the author didn’t skimp on the spice, it will get five stars from Old Beth.” I laughed out loud at her shameless confession, and I was rewarded with a smile.