“Bernadine already told us,” Joshua says. He looks at his sister. “She is really all I have. We both need each other.”

Next, I say something that I never thought would pass from my lips.

“I love what you did with your mother’s shroud.”

I stand there for a second, thinking that while my words were sincere, they sounded like I was commenting on a pair of club chairs.

“She loved the garden,” Joshua says.

Sarah looks at her mother. “I’ve never done anything like this, Detective.”

“You two can handle it,” I tell them. I want to say that there are lots of people here to support you. But there aren’t—a couple of cops, an attention seeker, an aunt and cousin.

“Okay,” he says. “We’re going to carry our beloved mother to the orchard where Sarah and I prepared a symbolic resting place.”

“Symbolic?”

Joshua shakes his head. “We can’t actually bury Mom here. We’re ahead of the laws, I guess. She’ll go back to the funeral home and then be buried in a green cemetery.”

“Sheriff Gray?” Sarah asks, indicating the table. “It’s time.”

Sheriff makes his way from the taffy bowl to the table.

He’s going to help. Good. This will be interesting.

Ida’s body lays on a cotton tablecloth, and Sheriff and Joshua each take an end. Joshua has his mother’s head, all festooned with nasturtiums, and Sheriff hoists the tail end, which at once seems like a struggle for him.

I hope he can manage.

As we walk from the house to the orchard, I hear Eve talking about how hurt she is that Sarah has forgotten how close they were when they were little. If their relationship is anything like her mother and aunt’s, I can’t imagine they were that close at all. She’d probably seen her two or three times in their entire lives.

I hear Sheriff asking Joshua if he wants to set his mom down and rest a little.

He says no.

I know that Sheriff is the one who wants to take a break.

Next, he asks Joshua if he wants someone to ask the media to leave.

“We’ll be done before you can do that.”

We encircle the space where grass leads up to a rectangular space neatly cut into the black soil.

Joshua and Sheriff gently lower her on to a trestle, while Sarah brings two shovels; one’s a square edge, the other rounded.

“Like I said,” Joshua starts, looking around, “never done this before. I know it’s what my mom would have wanted. I mean, she would have liked to actually be buried here, but she’ll still be able to be part of the earth. Just not here.”

My eyes meet Ruth’s. Tears streak from her mascara-free eyes.