8. Harper
EIGHT
HARPER
My father, a scientist, taught me that there are over 435,000 different plant species. That number changes as new plants get discovered, and we lose others to habitat loss and climate change.
Wyatt’s greenhouse must have contained at least half of the world’s known species, and now that I had a chance to fully explore his paradise on my own, I saw just how vast it was. If it wasn’t for the sun shining through the full glass panels, and the UV lights illuminating the path from above, I’d worry about getting lost in the lush jungle.
I strolled through the aisles in awe and felt a strange nostalgia that I couldn’t put my finger on – for a past memory, or for my old job at the plant nursery. I wasn’t sure. But as I walked toward what I knew to be the laboratory, I couldn’t dodge the feeling. It settled around me, growing heavier, like Michelle Carder’s obnoxious-smelling perfume, and I tried not to choke on the fear.
It was just a feeling.
The tall, silver-haired chemist was where I’d expected to find him, bent over at his station. He was busy stirring a bright yellow liquid into a beaker and I watched him carefully add a sprinkle of a green powder. The explosion of blue was immediate, and he smiled contently at the beaker, like a proud father.
I gently cleared my throat, to let him know he had a visitor. When that didn’t work, I spoke quietly. “Excuse me.”
His eyes shot up and met mine. “Ah, Miss Davis. You’ve returned.” His smile seemed genuine, and I felt my posture relax. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the tall metal stool across from him. “Just… give… me… a… minute…” He scribbled something onto a sheet of paper, then nodded once, satisfied, before labeling the beaker with masking tape. With a sharpie, he wrote the number thirty six.
My eyebrow raised. “Thirty six?”
“Believe it or not, thirty six is a record. My last remedy took two hundred tries to perfect.” He carefully placed the beaker into the small fridge that sat atop his counter, then wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Just give me a second to tidy up here.”
As Tim cleaned his station, I thought back to the first time we’d met. Wyatt had asked his scientist to try out a new memory potion on me, but it hadn’t worked. My memories of Wyatt had never returned, other than a few small glimmers here and there. Yet against all odds, we had still found our way back to each other. Was that true love?
“It’s nice to have you on the estate full time.” Like Fiona earlier in the kitchen, Tim’s words surprised me. I didn’t think any of the sasquatches liked me. I knew it wasn’t personal, but it still hurt.
As if he could read my mind, he added, “I understand this might be frowned upon, but the researcher in me is thrilled to have a human around.”
I laughed. “Just as long as you don’t need me to test any stinky lotions.”
He raised both hands, palms facing upward, and shrugged his shoulders. “Only the ones you agree to.” He winked. “Say, I promised you a tour of this place, didn’t I?”
“You did. And that’s actually why I’m here. Thanks, Tim.” I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment over calling the scientist by his first name. The man appeared close to Gloria’s age. “Or, uh, Mister…”
“Tim is fine,” he laughed. “I’m not my grandfather. Although, if you get the chance to meet him one day, you’ll see the resemblance.”
My jaw dropped. “Your grandfather? He’s… alive?”
The scientist beamed. “Of course he is. In fact, he’s never been healthier at the ripe old age of 220.”
My jaw dropped even further, my eyes wide as saucers.
“Oh dear.” His eyes shone brightly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but… has Wyatt not taught you much about our biology?”
Lips closed, I nodded in reply. Wyatt had made a few comments in passing, but whenever I brought up our future together, he shut down. I’d chalked it up to him being unable to handle human emotion, but now I knew there was more to it.
His forever was a lot longer than mine.
With a sigh, I realized that our relationship had suddenly become even more complicated. As if my dad returning, only to disappear again, wasn’t enough.
“How about that tour, then. And feel free to ask me any questions as they come up.”
He removed his lab coat, revealing a thick gray flannel button-up. Was wearing flannel in some kind of sasquatch guidebook? How to Disguise Yourself in Seattle , I thought with a snicker, covering my mouth with my hand to not seem rude.
As I trailed the scientist down the narrow aisles, the overhead mister doused our heads with a soft aromatic spray. “Eucalyptus,” he explained, pointing up at the misters, before pausing in front of a strange-looking fern. He brushed his fingertips over the large fronds.
“Go ahead,” he said, giving me permission.
I gently stroked the plant, admiring its vibrant purple hue. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “I’ve never seen a fern this color. Is it native to Washington?”
He smiled and nodded. “It only grows in Stirling County. And even then, only under the right conditions. This is the first year I’ve been able to reproduce it successfully indoors.” I detected a hint of pride in his voice.
“That’s incredible.” And it was. From working at the nursery, I knew the intricacies of plant reproduction.
“It’s even more amazing than you realize.” His voice lowered a notch. “This is no ordinary fern, Miss Davis. Its fronds contain an incredible gift. You are familiar with aloe vera, I take it?”
I nodded. I’d left my aloe plant, one of my favorites, at Savannah’s, knowing I now had an entire greenhouse in my backyard.
“Its leaves are similar to that of aloe vera. Have you ever seen such fleshy fronds on a fern before?” He squeezed gently, and a gel-like substance appeared on his fingertips. He rubbed it together, smiling.
“Like aloe,” I grinned.
“Yes,” he nodded. “But with far greater medicinal properties. This gel can be formulated into a medicine that aids with everything from healing wounds, to aging, to reproduction. As a matter of fact, our species share seventy-five percent of our genes with this fern. Remarkable, no?”
My eyes lit up. “Reproduction?”
He chuckled. “Yes. Reproduction. This fern is one of the reasons our kind can birth such healthy children well into our later years. Why, my aunt gave birth to a robust baby just last year. He had the biggest cheeks, like perfectly round apples,” he boasted.
I shuffled back and forth on my feet, afraid to ask the question that had been haunting me this past week. I didn’t want to say the words out loud. “Could it…” I quickly shut my mouth. What was I thinking? I barely knew Tim. He was a stranger, and not even a human one. This wasn’t a casual chat with Savannah over a glass of wine. And if word got back to Wyatt that I’d been so forthcoming with one of his staff...
Looking down at the ground, I could feel shame building inside me. I vowed to be more careful with my words. “Never mind,” I whispered.
But Tim’s voice spoke, low and gentle. “Harper.” Surprised to hear him use my first name, my eyes looked up from the concrete floor, meeting his. They shone golden, and like Wyatt’s, seemed trustworthy. “I’m a scientist. My entire world lies within these glass walls. No question is off limits.”
His words gave me the strength I needed. “Could it help me have a baby with Wyatt?”
“Oh, I see.” His face fell, and I steeled myself for the answer I knew was coming. “I’m sorry. It’s impossible for a human and a sasquatch to reproduce.” He sighed. “The cryptothelys is an amazing plant, but it can’t do the impossible.”
He turned to continue the tour, but I stayed frozen in my spot, unsure if I had heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”
He paused and turned back to face me, but any warmth was gone. His eyes flashed, tense and anxious. “I’m sorry, Miss Davis. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but it’s genetically impossible for you to get pregnant by a sasquatch.”
“No, not that.”
He looked relieved, yet perplexed. “I’m… not sure I understand.”
“The fern. What did you call it?”
The side of his mouth turned up, his relief apparent. “Cryptothelys. But of course, you won’t find it in any encyclopedia. As far as humans are concerned, the cryptothelys doesn’t exist. Now, shall we continue in this direction? I have some exciting new discoveries from South America I’d love to share with you…”
His voice faded away. My mind was unable to make any sense of words but I nodded along, pretending to be fully engrossed in his tour, a fake smile plastered on my face to show interest as he droned on.
But Tim was wrong. Today wasn’t the first time I had heard the name cryptothelys.
The last time I’d heard it was long before Wyatt had appeared in my life. And before my dad had left it.