The Night Strangers - Chris Bohjalian [58]
“Well, I’m not sure that’s why the girls love the greenhouse. We’ve discussed what we will and won’t do with the building, and Hallie and Garnet are pretty clear about this: It will be their playhouse, not my greenhouse,” Emily said. “Besides, I think this village must have enough greenhouses already devoted to tomatoes and phlox and whatever.”
“Tomatoes and phlox,” Sage said slowly, pondering Emily’s response. She didn’t seem especially happy. “We do grow both. At least some of us. But we also grow a fair amount of … whatever.”
“Really, why are there so many greenhouses in Bethel?” Emily asked. “There must be a reason.”
“There might be more than in some towns, but there’s no mystery to it,” Clary answered, jumping in. “There used to be a very active garden club in the village—women from Bethel won embarrassing numbers of blue ribbons at the county fairs for flowers and herbs and vegetables—and Sage’s father-in-law happened to own a construction company that specialized in them.”
“In greenhouses.”
“And solariums. And sunrooms. And he gave us all the ‘friends and family discount.’ ”
“But whatever it is that we grow,” Sage added, still smarting from Emily’s offhand dismissal of what they cultivated in their greenhouses, “more times than not it tends to be more interesting than mere tomatoes and phlox. Some of us bring in cuttings and seedlings from all over the world. I have all sorts of things thriving in my greenhouse right now that most Americans have never even heard of—would never even have dreamed of! And Anise? Her work is even more extraordinary. Anise is brilliant: You simply can’t imagine. The things either of us could tell you about the power of herbs and tinctures and blood and—”
“Yes, Sage,” Clary said, squeezing her arm and cutting her off. “We all know that you grow some remarkable things. But we don’t want to bore the girls!”
“What do you mean by blood?” Emily asked. “I presume you don’t put blood in tinctures or potions.”
“Oh,” Sage said, her voice more measured than a moment ago but still edgy, “I only meant the effect a natural remedy can have on the blood—on a person’s health.”
“Herbs and tinctures and blood,” Chip said, and because he had barely spoken since they arrived, everyone turned to him expectantly. Even the girls. He sat down in an easy chair upholstered with images of honeysuckle vines. “Sometimes I think I could use a good herbalist these days.”
Emily could tell there was a subterranean layer of sarcasm in his remark, but only because they had known each other so long. She was confident that only she had even an inkling that he might be mocking the need for an herbalist. Moreover, she also believed that it wasn’t precisely that he lacked faith in herbal medicine; rather, it was that he had problems of his own that in his opinion far transcended the powers of cohosh and ginseng.
“Tell us, Hallie: What specifically do you like about the greenhouse?” Clary asked, not exactly ignoring Chip but not responding to his remark, either.
“Well, it’s, like, Garnet’s and my own special place,” the girl answered.
“It is your own special place, isn’t it? Places have auras, and I am so glad you appreciate the aura of that greenhouse.”
“We haven’t spent a lot of time there yet,” Garnet added. “It’s kind of cold right now.”
“Of course it is. But Sage and Anise and I will be happy to help you decide what to grow there. We can bring by seedlings and starters and roots. We can—”
“I was serious,” Emily said, careful to smile as she interrupted Clary. “I think the girls want it to be a playhouse. Dolls and games and secrets—that sort of thing.”
Sage stared at her, the woman’s eyes narrowing just the tiniest bit. “You know that Peyton’s father built that greenhouse. You know it was on land that was carefully dowsed.”
“I didn’t know that. But, still, it seems to be metal framing and big pieces of glass with a good southern exposure. It