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From Chapter One:
Eleanor Roosevelt Urquhart squinted through the sunshine outside the bus window for the umpteenth time, trying to read the sign of each cross street. She’d ridden the bus for more than an hour as it crawled from stop to stop along a winding boulevard lined with palm trees and enormous jade plants. After four years in the Los Angeles basin, Eleanor still found waist high outdoor jade plants jarring. Back in Minnesota, Eleanor’s mother kept a jade among her many indoor plants, but it measured six inches. In Eleanor’s mind, her mother’s specimen defined “jade plant”; outdoor jade bushes belonged in a bad science fiction movie (The Houseplant That Swallowed San Dimas).