“All those years in the field, remembering every detail of a person based on just a flash impression, paid off. I described him to Josh. Komal had pictures of your brother, so between that and my recollection he came up with his face, the body type and stance.

I hope we did well.”

“It’s him.” The words came out thickly. Tears began to fall, her expression torn between grief and joy. “Oh, God, Tyler. You…” She shook her head and he pressed his face to her throat, wrapping both arms around her.

“No, angel, I didn’t want you to cry.”

“Yes, you did. In a good way. And this is a good way, I promise. You just…you understand so much about me, more every day. And this…if you keep giving me gifts like this, I’ll be the first person whose heart broke out of too much happiness.”

“I’ll be here to put it back together, angel. Every time. I promise.”

Robert slipped into the garden as they strolled back up the path, smiling a little at their absorption in each other, remembering his and Sarah’s days as newlyweds. He turned at a shadow, a rush of wings as if a heron had taken flight close by. Seeing nothing but the delicate pointed leaves of the Japanese maple quivering, he shrugged, bent to retrieve his garden tools and went to the statue to clip back some of the weeds trying to poke their heads out among the ferns at the base.

He discovered a feather there. Large enough to be a heron’s, only herons didn’t have feathers like this. Long and white with gilding on the tips like the touch of gold and silver mixed. Holding it in his hand, Robert felt a warmth sweep through him, a sense of peace, of the type of spiritual tranquility he often felt in his garden. He felt thanks sweep him. For the day, for Sarah. For Mr. and Mrs. Winterman. For the beauty of green things and flowers. For life.

Leaving his weeding tools for the moment, he went to find Sarah. He wanted to give her the feather, sensing that it was the perfect gift for the woman who’d agreed to be his for the rest of their lives.

The End