“I thought we were lesbians because we’re attracted to each other instead of men.” Hæra sounded puzzled. “Or—oh! You mean it like one of those jokes online.”

Madeleine laughed. “Yes, like those jokes.”

Over time, she’d come to love the jokes. They were about U-Hauls, getting attached to one another too quickly, being emotionally needy, and somehow they were still funny. Probably because lesbians had made up the jokes about themselves. She was now in a place where she could read them, and think Yes, Hæra and I are like that, and feel like she was a part of something. A group she belonged to more than she’d belonged in a convent.

“Well, this is about more than just wanting to see you,” Hæra said. “I don’t want to lose the weather.”

Madeleine looked up into the blue sky. This was the sunniest day Jorsay had seen in weeks. It was ideal weather for Madeleine to putter around in the garden, where she was now, and it was even better for what Hæra had planned. The forecast said it would stretch into tomorrow.

But Hæra had been bursting with excitement about this for weeks, and Madeleine couldn’t blame her wife for wanting to take every precaution.

“Then I’m on my way,” she said, smiling. “Let me just grab my things.”

“Drive safely,” Hæra cautioned, as she always did. “I’ll be waiting.”

They bid each other farewell, and Madeleine took one last look around the garden. The Honey Angel Crocosima was flourishing, but the cheesewood struggled. Next year, she’d have to pack it in with a hardier plant that could shield it from the wind. Both gardening and farming involved lots of trial and error. There was always something new to learn, as Jonathan had told her more than once.

That seemed fitting, since this was his memorial garden. Madeleine and Hæra had begun planning it three years ago, when Madeleine moved here permanently and said the back yard ought to have something nicer than gravel and grass. She’d expected Hæra to resist—say the last thing she wanted to do after wrangling sheep all day was wrangle plants.

Instead, Hæra bought bags of fertilizer the next day. Now, after some missteps and false starts, Jonathan’s memory flourished, nourishing the land he’d adored. His body might belong to the sea, but both Madeleine and Hæra believed something of his spirit was here.

Madeleine hurried into the house. She neatly placed her gardening apron and gloves in their spot by the back door and continued to the bedroom to change into cleaner clothes.