Katie couldn't have a garden, as much as she wanted to. She wasn't around most of the year to take care of it, and there weren't so many things that she could leave to their own devices in Minnesota; some of the plants she would have chosen would die in the brutal winter, while others wouldn't have survived comfortably in the summer. She hated coming home to dead plants. It seemed like they were watching her and blaming her for the state that they were in.

What she wanted, more than anything, was a place she could call her own and never leave. She'd been rootless for too long; all she wanted out of life was somewhere where she could plant herself and never leave. Wandering, always wandering, she couldn't stay long enough anywhere to grow and learn. She felt most at home in Columbus, doing her graduate work in the place where she had spent her college years; it was funny to return and see how things had changed, like the oak tree along one of the main streets that had grown a couple of feet since the last time she had seen it. It was the closest place to home that she could think of anymore.

But she dreamed of a place that she and Jen could call their own, a farm somewhere out in the middle of nowhere- there was enough middle of nowhere left in the United States that they could choose whether to have it in Tennessee or Ohio. The hard work would do them both good, and they'd be able to keep in shape- a big thing for Jen, and something Katie definitely wanted to encourage in her extremely well-muscled beloved. She wanted to settle down, create something with Jen that would last until well after mountains had worn down to nothing; it was a testament to the power of her emotion that she genuinely believed that this could be so.

She sensed it in Jen, too, sensed that Jen wanted nothing more than to settle in one place for all eternity. Jen did everything for keeps- when she had helped create the ABL, she had intended for that to last for as long as she needed it; when she had come to the WNBA, she had planned ot stay for the rest of her playing days until Detroit had made her almost give up on the league for good. And now that she had retired, no amount of begging or pleading would convince her to have a farewell tour with the Silver Stars; as many times as the brass and some of her now-former teammates had begged her, she had remained stbborn as a stone, unwilling to change her mind. That was that, and now she was taking care of her business full time. As simply as that, she had turned over the new leaf. Katie often marveled at how efficiently Jen could switch from one thing to another.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. It had been too long a day, and she was more than glad to get home from school. She wanted to check her mail and see if Jen had written her back about her proposal. She couldn't bleieve that she had had the courage to bring up the issue with Jen about buying land, and now she wanted an answer so that she knew her effort wasn't in vain. As she came up the steps, she noticed a package on the welcome mat in front of her door. She picked it up, puzzled. The card on it was blank, except for the cryptic message for starters. She opened the paper cautiously and gasped. It was a basket of flowers, all of them still in their little pots of dirt. The flowers were mostly of the fragrant variety, and the heady scent brought a smile to Katie's face as she inhaled.

"Someone sure knows how to make the end of the semester livable," she said to no one in particular, fumbling noisily for her keys. She made enough noise that Jen finally gave up and opened the door. Katie carefully put the basket down and threw her arms around Jen.

"I guess you like 'em then," Jen said with a laugh. "Someone reminded me that May Day, people used to give out flowers to their friends."

"Oh, is that all I am to you?" Katie teased.

"Aw, you know better'n that. You gonna stand out here all day? I got business back in San Antone to take care of, if you're just gonna ignore me while I'm here I'm walkin' right out that door."

Katie laughed, picked up the flowers and came in. "Thanks for coming," she said quietly. "I missed you so much."

"I've been missin' you too, sugar. That's why I decided to answer you in person instead of by a letter or a phone call."

"Oh?" Katie asked nervously, excitement knotting up her nerves.

Jen smiled secretly. "Let's start out with a flower garden..."

Katie turned the ignition key in the tractor and listened to the rumble settle down. She looked out over their little plot of land. She'd thought it would be harder to farm in Texas, but Jen had surprised her. They were doing pretty well for themselves, between Jen's fitness camps and the occasional crops that Katie felt were worth more as products than dinner. They'd both saved up a bit before that, Jen more than Katie since Katie had been going to school a few extra years. It was the kidn of life Katie had only dreamed of.

She hopped off the tractor and headed into the house for a long tall glass of lemonade; it was getting warm here at the beginning of May, and global warming was starting to make its presence felt, because Katie couldn't remember the last time it had been this hot on May 1st. She passed through the flower garden that was descended from the basket Jen had given her twenty years ago that day; every year it had grown, and though very few of the plants were direct descendents of the original basket, Jen had done her utmost to match them when they died so that it always seemed like the same garden.

When Katie entered the kitchen, all thoughts of lemonade flew from her mind. On the table sat the most elaborate basket that Jen had put together to date. All she could do was stop and stare. Strong arms corded with hard muscle seized her around the waist, and Katie leaned back into her partner's embrace. "Oh, Jen, you've outdone yourself..." she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"I always try," Jen replied, putting her face in Katie's sun-warmed hair.

"And you always succeed."