"I know I should find this out myself," I said, "but you're her sister. What's her favorite flower?"
"She can't have any," she said. "She's a celiac."
"No, flower with a w."
I can hear her daughter singing in the background. "Dude, 'flower' starts with an 'f.'"
"I mean, flower like one that grows in the ground."
"Yeah, like wheat? Wheat flour is just as bad as the white. It's the gluten that--"
I hung up the phone, thinking: I hope she likes Tulips.