Read Garden Spells Page 22


  Sydney put her hands on her hips. “I’m going to cut off its branches.”

  “The branches won’t break,” Claire reminded her.

  “It’ll make me feel good to try.”

  “It will conk you with apples.” Claire sighed. “Maybe we can get Bay to talk to it again.”

  “The only time we’ve even been close to getting to the photos was when Bay said she wanted to see what her grandmother looked like,” Sydney explained to Evanelle. “It lowered a branch to show her but snapped it back when we tried to grab it.” Sydney turned to Bay, who closed her eyes quickly. Ever since that night, the only time she got to hear the good stuff was when no one thought she was listening. “Let’s not wake her.”

  “I see she’s still wearing that pin,” Evanelle said affectionately.

  “She never takes it off.”

  Bay wanted to touch the pin, like she did when she got worried. But they were all watching.

  “What brings you by, Evanelle?” Claire asked. Bay cracked an eye open. They had their backs to her now. “I thought you and Fred were having lunch with Steve today.”

  “We are. I can’t wait. Steve is going to make something fancy again. I told Fred he was lucky he had a culinary instructor in love with him. He looked at me like I’d told him he had bees in his hair.”

  “He still thinks he has to date Steve because of the mango splitter?”

  “Oh, it gets better. I might as well be dating Steve these days. Just about everywhere they go now, Fred wants me to come along. He’s having a good time. He’s happy. He just doesn’t want to admit it yet. He’s going to figure it out sooner or later. I’m not going to tell him what to do. And Steve is letting Fred call the shots, which is what he needs to do. In the meantime, I get to eat fancy cookin’. I ate snails for the first time last week! How about that.” Evanelle gave a little cackle. “I like gay men. They’re a real hoot.”

  “I’m glad you’re having fun, Evanelle,” Claire said.

  “Fred’s waiting in the car, but I had to stop by to give you this.”

  Bay couldn’t see what it was, just a flash of white paper as Evanelle took something out of her tote bag.

  “Baby’s breath seeds?” Sydney said. “For which one of us?”

  “Both of you. I had to give it to both of you. Fred took me to the garden shop by the farmers’ market to get it. Oh, and I saw Henry at the market. He was buying apples. He looks real good. He said his shoulder was coming along nicely, that he’ll be as good as new soon.”

  “Yes, and he thinks it’s because of the apples.” Sydney smiled and shook her head. “Ever since that night, he can’t eat enough apples.”

  “I wish Tyler felt that way,” Claire said. “He won’t go anywhere near the tree now. He still can’t get over it. He says it’s probably the only official police report in history that claims an apple tree ran the suspect off and no one found that unusual.”

  They all tried to keep the details of what happened to David after he ran out of the garden that night from Bay, but she would hide behind doors or put her ear to the furnace grates to secretly listen when they talked about it. Her father had been arrested just outside Lexington, Kentucky. He wrecked his SUV during a police chase. When they hauled him out of the wreckage unhurt, he begged them not to take him in. He couldn’t go to prison. He couldn’t. He begged them to kill him first. That night he tried to hang himself in the county jail. Something bad was going to happen to him in prison, and he knew it. That had to be what he saw when he ate the apple, the reason he ran, the reason he didn’t want to get caught.

  When Bay thought about him, she felt sad. Her father had never belonged anywhere. It was hard not to feel sorry for a life that had no purpose of its own. He was the son of faceless parents who died many years ago. He was the friend of many who were too scared not to be. His only purpose, it seemed, was to come into her mother’s life in order to send her home.

  For that, Bay decided, she would be grateful.

  For the rest, though, she wondered if she would ever be able to forgive him. She hoped she wouldn’t remember him long enough to find out.

  It had been so scary, seeing her father here. She’d almost forgotten him, what he looked like, how angry he could get. She’d been lulled into happiness before he showed up, and she wanted to be lulled again. It was already starting; just lying in the garden made things better. It was going to take her mother a little longer, but Sydney was being lulled again too. Sometimes Bay would sit at the bottom of the staircase inside the house while Henry and her mother were on the porch, and she would hear Henry sing to her mother, not in song, but in promises. Bay wanted Henry in their lives in a way she couldn’t fully explain. It was like the way you wanted sunshine on Saturdays, or pancakes for breakfast. They just made you feel good. Her father never did that. Even when her father would laugh, it made everyone around him cringe with the anticipation of that good humor ending. And it always ended.

  But she wasn’t going to think of that.

  “These must be for you,” Sydney said, handing the seed packet to Claire. “Baby’s breath is for a bride, right? You and Tyler have a wedding date.”

  “No, they’re for you,” Claire said, trying to hand them back. “You and Henry are going to elope if he has anything to say about it.”

  Bay hoped that was true. Some nights Sydney would sit on the edge of the bed before Bay drifted off to sleep, and she would talk about Henry. She spoke in broad and tentative terms, obviously not wanting to overwhelm Bay with the thought of a new man in their lives. But Bay wasn’t overwhelmed. She was impatient. With her dream not exactly replicated yet, Bay was anxious about the way things were going to turn out. What if her father had ruined everything? What if his coming here had thrown everything off?

  “Maybe the seeds don’t mean marriage, maybe they mean a baby,” Evanelle said.

  Sydney laughed. “Well, that rules me out for now.”

  Claire looked thoughtfully at the packet in her hand.

  “Claire?” Sydney said.

  Claire looked up with a small knowing smile, one that Bay had never seen before, but one that Sydney seemed to immediately recognize.

  “Really?” Sydney exclaimed, taking her sister’s face in her hands. Bay thought she’d seen her mother growing happier lately, but she’d never seen her like this. Yellow joy was radiating from her. When you’re happy for yourself, it fills you. When you’re happy for someone else, it pours over. It was almost too bright to watch. “Oh, my God. Really?”

  Claire nodded.

  Bay watched the three of them hug, then they walked out of the garden in a Waverley cluster, talking with their hands, touching, laughing.

  The tree was shaking with excitement, like it was laughing along with them.

  It threw an apple after them.

  Bay rolled onto her back after they’d left the garden. She stretched in the grass under the tree. As the tree shivered, there was the sound of paper flapping above her. She looked up at the photographs the tree had picked up that night six weeks ago. They were fluttering slightly. The sun was now beginning to fade the images, and Lorelei was slowly disappearing.

  The longer Bay stayed out here, the more her father faded too.

  She loved this place so much.

  Things were only halfway perfect, because there still weren’t any sparkles and rainbows on her face, but wasn’t this good enough? Everyone was happy. It was as close to her dream of this place as she was probably going to get. And it was close. So close. She really shouldn’t worry.

  She put her hand to the brooch automatically, for comfort.

  Her fingers suddenly clutched the pin.

  Wait a minute.

  Was that it? Was it really so easy?

  She pinched her lips together as she unhooked the brooch from her shirt. She was so excited that her fingers were clumsy and it took several tries.

  The grass was soft like in her dream. And the scent of herbs and flowers was exact
ly like in the dream. There was the sound of paper flapping all around her as the tree continued to shake. She lifted the starburst rhinestone pin above her head breathlessly. Her hand was trembling now, not wanting to be disappointed. She moved the pin back and forth until suddenly, like a Christmas cracker, the light broke through and multicolored sparkles rained down on her face. She could actually feel them, the colors so cool they were warm, like flakes of snow.

  Her entire body relaxed and she laughed. She laughed like she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

  She needed this. She needed this proof.

  Yes, everything was going to be okay now.

  Perfect, in fact.

  FROM THE

  WAVERLEY KITCHEN JOURNAL

  Angelica - Will shape its meaning to your need, but it is particularly good for calming hyper children at your table.

  Anise Hyssop - Eases frustration and confusion.

  Bachelor’s Button - Aids in finding things that were previously hidden. A clarifying flower.

  Chicory - Conceals bitterness. Gives the eater a sense that all is well. A cloaking flower.

  Chive Blossom - Ensures you will win an argument. Conveniently, also an antidote for hurt feelings.

  Dandelion - A stimulant encouraging faithfulness. Frequent side effects are blindness to flaws and spontaneous apologies.

  Honeysuckle - For seeing in the dark, but only if you use honeysuckle from a brush of vines at least two feet thick. A clarifying flower.

  Hyacinth Bulb - Causes melancholy and thoughts of past regrets. Use only dried bulbs. A time-travel flower.

  Lavender - Raises spirits. Prevents bad decisions resulting from fatigue or depression.

  Lemon Balm - Upon consumption, for a brief period of time the eater will think and feel as he did in his youth. Please note if you have any former hellions at your table before serving. A time-travel flower.

  Lemon Verbena - Produces a lull in conversation with a mysterious lack of awkwardness. Helpful when you have nervous, overly talkative guests.

  Lilac - When a certain amount of humility is in order. Gives confidence that humbling yourself to another will not be used against you.

  Marigold - Causes affection, but sometimes accompanied by jealousy.

  Nasturtium - Promotes appetite in men. Makes women secretive. Secret sexual liaisons sometimes occur in mixed company. Do not let your guests out of your sight.

  Pansy - Encourages the eater to give compliments and surprise gifts.

  Peppermint - A clever method of concealment. When used with other edible flowers, it confuses the eater, thus concealing the true nature of what you are doing. A cloaking flower.

  Rose Geranium - Produces memories of past good times. Opposite of Hyacinth Bulb. A time-travel flower.

  Rose Petal - Encourages love.

  Snapdragon - Wards off the undue influences of others, particularly those with magical sensibilities.

  Squash and Zucchini Blossoms - Serve when you need to be understood. Clarifying flowers.

  Tulip - Gives the eater a sense of sexual perfection. A possible side effect is being susceptible to the opinions of others.

  Violet - A wonderful finish to a meal. Induces calm, brings on happiness, and always assures a good night’s sleep.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SARAH ADDISON ALLEN was born and raised in Asheville, North Carolina, where she is currently at work on her next novel, which Bantam will publish in 2008.

  GARDEN SPELLS

  A Bantam Book / September 2007

  Published by Bantam Dell

  A Division of Random House, Inc.

  New York, New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2007 by Sarah Addison Allen

  Bantam Books is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Allen, Sarah Addison.

  Garden spells / Sarah Addison Allen.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-553-90412-3

  1. Sisters—Fiction. 2. North Carolina—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3601.L4356G37 2007

  813'.6—dc22 2007000195

  www.bantamdell.com

  v1.0

 


 

  Sarah Addison Allen, Garden Spells

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