“Pick up your water,” Tabby said. “Why?” “We’re doing a toast.” Jo lifted her battered blue water bottle, predictably situated next to her. “Ready?” Tabby said. “Ready,” Jo said. “Happy birthday to Eleanor Teale, the flower whisperer who made everyone and everything around her bloom. Her light is still with us, growing love across the universe.” Jo raised her bottle to the gray sky and drank. “Thanks,” she said, wiping fingers on her lower lashes. “That was a good toast.”