May 10, 2026

Hothouse - A Paranormal Romance (Episode 1 of 4) - Germination"

Hothouse - A Paranormal Romance (Episode 1 of 4) - Germination"

Daphne Laurel arrives in Connecticut to claim her inheritance: a sprawling botanical garden, a quaint cottage, and apparently a magical gift she didn't know she had. Within hours of stepping into the greenhouse, she's overwhelmed by a strange awareness—she can feel what the plants feel. And in May, what they feel is want.The handsome caretaker isn't helping. Neither is the vine that trips her directly into his arms, triggering a bloom cascade that makes her attraction embarrassingly visible.Her aunt's notes make the situation clear: the garden wants an heir. It's been waiting. And it's chosen the gardener as its candidate.Daphne should definitely leave. She's going to stay anyway.

Unlock an ad-free podcast experience with Caloroga Shark Media! Get all our shows on any player you love, hassle free! For Apple users, hit the banner on your Apple podcasts app. For Spotify or other players, visit caloroga.com/plus. No plug-ins needed!

Subscribe now for exclusive shows like 'Palace Intrigue,' and get bonus content from Deep Crown (our exclusive Palace Insider!) Or get 'Daily Comedy News,' and '5 Good News Stories’ with no commercials! Plans start at $4.99 per month, or save 20% with a yearly plan at $49.99. Join today and help support the show!


We now have Merch! FREE SHIPPING! Check out all the products like T-shirts, mugs, bags, jackets and more with logos and slogans from your favorite shows! Did we mention there’s free shipping? Get 10% off with code NewMerch10 Go to Caloroga.com


Get more info from Caloroga Shark Media and if you have any comments, suggestions, or just want to get in touch our email is info@caloroga.com

WEBVTT

1
00:00:03.160 --> 00:00:16.839
Caloroga Shark Media. Hello, and welcome to Romance Weekly. This

2
00:00:16.920 --> 00:00:37.560
is Hothouse, Episode one, Germination. The thing no one tells

3
00:00:37.600 --> 00:00:40.880
you about inheriting a botanical garden is that it comes

4
00:00:40.880 --> 00:00:45.359
with a gardener. This would be fine, normal, even if

5
00:00:45.359 --> 00:00:48.159
the gardener in question didn't look like he'd been sculpted

6
00:00:48.200 --> 00:00:52.600
by someone who really really liked forearms. But here I

7
00:00:52.679 --> 00:00:56.719
am standing in the gravel driveway of Laurel Gardens, watching

8
00:00:56.719 --> 00:01:00.159
a man in dirt stained jeans walk toward me with

9
00:01:00.200 --> 00:01:03.439
the kind of easy confidence that suggests he's never had

10
00:01:03.479 --> 00:01:08.760
an anxiety attack in a supply closet. Must be nice.

11
00:01:08.879 --> 00:01:13.000
You must be Daphne. He offers his hand. Matt Cole,

12
00:01:13.400 --> 00:01:17.439
I was your aunt's caretaker. His hand is warm and calloused,

13
00:01:17.879 --> 00:01:20.159
and I'm shaking it for slightly too long before I

14
00:01:20.239 --> 00:01:24.799
realize I should probably stop. Bierra talked about you, he says,

15
00:01:25.920 --> 00:01:28.159
she was excited you were coming to visit this summer.

16
00:01:28.719 --> 00:01:34.120
Before he stops, clears his throat, I'm sorry for your loss.

17
00:01:35.319 --> 00:01:39.040
Thank you. I'm sorry too. I look past him at

18
00:01:39.040 --> 00:01:43.599
the garden, which sprawls across five acres of Connecticut countryside

19
00:01:43.680 --> 00:01:47.560
like something out of a fever dream greenhouses glinting in

20
00:01:47.599 --> 00:01:51.239
the may sunshine, flower beds erupting in colors. I don't

21
00:01:51.280 --> 00:01:54.400
have names for trees that look like they've been here

22
00:01:54.439 --> 00:01:59.040
since before the concept of property ownership existed. I didn't

23
00:01:59.040 --> 00:02:01.879
know her well. We only met a few times when

24
00:02:01.879 --> 00:02:05.680
I was a kid. But she left me all this

25
00:02:06.799 --> 00:02:11.759
she did. Something flickers across his face, amusement maybe, or

26
00:02:11.840 --> 00:02:17.159
knowing have you been inside yet? Just got here? Then

27
00:02:17.240 --> 00:02:20.400
let me give you the tour. He turns and walks

28
00:02:20.400 --> 00:02:23.599
toward the main greenhouse, and I follow, trying very hard

29
00:02:23.639 --> 00:02:25.800
not to notice the way his shoulders move under his

30
00:02:25.879 --> 00:02:31.479
T shirt. This is fine. I'm a professional. I spent

31
00:02:31.599 --> 00:02:34.080
eight years as a corporate accountant before I quit to

32
00:02:34.120 --> 00:02:37.719
have a nervous breakdown, and those skills don't just disappear.

33
00:02:38.400 --> 00:02:41.599
I can handle a handsome gardener. I can handle anything.

34
00:02:42.879 --> 00:02:47.080
The greenhouse door opens and every thought in my head evaporates.

35
00:02:48.199 --> 00:02:50.199
I don't know how to describe what hits me when

36
00:02:50.199 --> 00:02:54.280
I step inside. It's not a smell exactly, though there

37
00:02:54.319 --> 00:02:59.120
are smells earth and green and something sweeter underneath, like

38
00:02:59.199 --> 00:03:02.840
honey left in Then it's not a sound, though there's

39
00:03:02.840 --> 00:03:04.759
a kind of humming at the edge of my hearing,

40
00:03:05.439 --> 00:03:08.879
almost like the building itself is breathing. It's more like

41
00:03:08.919 --> 00:03:13.159
a feeling, a pressure, the sense of a thousand living

42
00:03:13.240 --> 00:03:18.439
things pressing against my awareness, all of them growing, reaching, wanting.

43
00:03:21.680 --> 00:03:26.000
I stumble, catch myself on a potting bench. You okay.

44
00:03:26.879 --> 00:03:30.319
Matt is beside me, not touching, but close enough that

45
00:03:30.360 --> 00:03:33.919
I can feel the heat of him. The greenhouse takes

46
00:03:33.919 --> 00:03:39.240
some people that way. The humidity probably right, the humidity.

47
00:03:40.639 --> 00:03:43.879
I straighten up and try to focus, but everything is

48
00:03:43.919 --> 00:03:47.080
so much. The orchids in the corner are practically screaming

49
00:03:47.080 --> 00:03:50.919
at me, not words, not anything I could articulate, but

50
00:03:51.000 --> 00:03:53.879
a kind of desperate beauty, a need to be seen

51
00:03:53.960 --> 00:03:58.719
and admired and touched. The ferns are calmer, ancient, and patient,

52
00:03:59.479 --> 00:04:01.680
but even when they're reaching toward me, like they know

53
00:04:01.759 --> 00:04:07.960
I'm here, and underneath it all this low throb of want,

54
00:04:08.759 --> 00:04:11.879
like the whole greenhouse is vibrating with spring, with the

55
00:04:12.000 --> 00:04:15.800
urgent need to grow and bloom and reproduce. I am

56
00:04:15.840 --> 00:04:20.839
definitely imagining this. This is stress, This is grief I

57
00:04:20.879 --> 00:04:24.120
haven't processed. This is what happens when you quit your

58
00:04:24.160 --> 00:04:27.360
job and drive to Connecticut to claim an inheritance from

59
00:04:27.360 --> 00:04:32.959
an aunt you barely knew. The main greenhouse is mostly tropicals,

60
00:04:33.279 --> 00:04:37.240
Matt is saying. He's moved deeper into the space, pointing

61
00:04:37.240 --> 00:04:41.120
out different sections. Vera had one of the best orchid

62
00:04:41.120 --> 00:04:45.160
collections in New England. The rose garden is outside, along

63
00:04:45.199 --> 00:04:48.800
with the perennials. The kitchen garden is behind the cottage.

64
00:04:49.240 --> 00:04:53.680
That's where you'll be staying. Where do you stay. There's

65
00:04:53.720 --> 00:04:57.560
an apartment above the equipment barn. He glances back at me.

66
00:04:58.120 --> 00:05:00.600
Don't worry. I won't be in your way. I know

67
00:05:00.680 --> 00:05:02.800
this is a lot to take on. If you decide

68
00:05:02.800 --> 00:05:04.600
to sell, I can help you find a buyer who'll

69
00:05:04.600 --> 00:05:09.519
take care of the place. Sell. That's what most people do.

70
00:05:10.120 --> 00:05:14.360
Botanical gardens aren't exactly low maintenance. I look around at

71
00:05:14.360 --> 00:05:18.879
the greenhouse, the orchids with their desperate beauty, the ferns

72
00:05:18.920 --> 00:05:22.199
with their patient reaching, all of it humming with a life.

73
00:05:22.240 --> 00:05:28.040
I can almost feel something in my chest Titans. I

74
00:05:28.079 --> 00:05:32.199
haven't decided anything yet, I hear myself say, I want

75
00:05:32.199 --> 00:05:37.879
to understand what I'm inheriting first. Matt nods slowly. There's

76
00:05:37.879 --> 00:05:41.879
that flicker again, the one I can't read, then let's

77
00:05:41.959 --> 00:05:47.560
keep going. There's a lot to see. The tour takes

78
00:05:47.560 --> 00:05:51.000
two hours. By the end of it, I'm overwhelmed in

79
00:05:51.040 --> 00:05:54.399
ways I don't have vocabulary for Every section of the

80
00:05:54.399 --> 00:05:59.160
garden hit me differently. The rose garden was intoxicating, all

81
00:05:59.160 --> 00:06:03.160
that scent and color pressing against my senses. The woodland

82
00:06:03.240 --> 00:06:07.160
area was cool and quiet, a relief after the intensity

83
00:06:07.160 --> 00:06:12.040
of the flowers. The vegetable garden was practical, grounding, the

84
00:06:12.120 --> 00:06:14.920
kind of place where I could imagine actually thinking straight.

85
00:06:16.319 --> 00:06:20.199
Matt is patient throughout, answering questions I didn't know I had,

86
00:06:20.959 --> 00:06:25.040
explaining the maintenance schedules and the seasonal rhythms, and the

87
00:06:25.160 --> 00:06:28.480
upcoming May Day festival that's apparently a big deal for

88
00:06:28.519 --> 00:06:33.519
the local community. Fara never missed one, he says. People

89
00:06:33.560 --> 00:06:36.800
come from three counties. It's the biggest event of the year.

90
00:06:38.079 --> 00:06:41.759
When is it three weeks and you can run it

91
00:06:41.800 --> 00:06:45.199
without her? I've been running it with her for three years.

92
00:06:45.680 --> 00:06:49.879
I know what needs to happen. He pauses. But it

93
00:06:49.920 --> 00:06:52.639
would be good to have a Laurel here for continuity.

94
00:06:53.319 --> 00:06:57.040
If you're planning to stay that long. I should say no,

95
00:06:58.240 --> 00:07:01.160
I should say I'm just here to assess the property,

96
00:07:01.800 --> 00:07:04.240
figure out what to do with it, move on with

97
00:07:04.319 --> 00:07:07.360
my life. I have no life to move on to,

98
00:07:08.079 --> 00:07:12.439
but that's beside the point. Instead, I say, I'll think

99
00:07:12.439 --> 00:07:16.279
about it. We're standing at the entrance to the cottage now,

100
00:07:16.959 --> 00:07:20.560
a perfect little stone building covered in climbing roses, the

101
00:07:20.680 --> 00:07:24.319
kind of place that belongs in a storybook. Matt hands

102
00:07:24.360 --> 00:07:28.519
me a key, old fashioned and heavy. The fridge is stocked.

103
00:07:29.160 --> 00:07:32.560
Fia left instructions for everything in the desk drawer. She

104
00:07:32.639 --> 00:07:35.360
knew she was sick toward the end. Wanted to make

105
00:07:35.399 --> 00:07:39.040
sure whoever came next would know what they were getting into.

106
00:07:39.560 --> 00:07:43.920
Did she know it would be me, she hoped. He

107
00:07:44.000 --> 00:07:46.399
holds my gaze for a moment, and I feel that

108
00:07:46.439 --> 00:07:52.360
pressure again. Not the garden this time, something else, something

109
00:07:52.399 --> 00:07:55.199
that has nothing to do with plants, and everything to

110
00:07:55.199 --> 00:07:57.519
do with the way his eyes crinkle when he's thinking.

111
00:07:58.639 --> 00:08:02.279
I'll let you get settled, says if you need anything,

112
00:08:02.319 --> 00:08:05.759
I'm in the barn. He walks away, and I watch

113
00:08:05.839 --> 00:08:08.879
him go, and I absolutely do not think about the

114
00:08:08.920 --> 00:08:12.519
way his genes fit The cottage is exactly what you'd

115
00:08:12.519 --> 00:08:16.240
expect from a woman who talked to plants, herbs, drying

116
00:08:16.279 --> 00:08:20.360
in bundles from the ceiling, books on botany and folklore,

117
00:08:20.439 --> 00:08:24.600
crammed into every shelf, a kitchen that smells like lavender

118
00:08:25.040 --> 00:08:31.240
and something earthy I can't identify. And everywhere, everywhere, plants

119
00:08:32.440 --> 00:08:36.320
on every window sill, hanging from every hook, climbing up

120
00:08:36.360 --> 00:08:39.840
the walls like they're trying to escape. I set my

121
00:08:39.960 --> 00:08:43.639
suitcase down and stand in the middle of the living room, breathing.

122
00:08:45.000 --> 00:08:48.799
It's quieter here than in the greenhouse. The plants are

123
00:08:48.840 --> 00:08:52.320
still present. I can feel them, that strange awareness that

124
00:08:52.440 --> 00:08:57.960
started when I walked through the greenhouse door. But they're calmer, settled,

125
00:08:59.000 --> 00:09:00.919
like they've been here a long time and have nothing

126
00:09:00.960 --> 00:09:13.120
to prove. I find the desk draw Matt mentioned and

127
00:09:13.200 --> 00:09:16.399
pull out a thick folder, Vera's handwriting on the cover

128
00:09:16.840 --> 00:09:21.039
for Daphne. When she's ready, I open it. The first

129
00:09:21.039 --> 00:09:25.159
page is a letter, my dear girl. If you're reading this,

130
00:09:25.679 --> 00:09:28.200
then I'm gone and you've come to claim what I've

131
00:09:28.240 --> 00:09:31.559
left you. I'm sorry we didn't have more time together.

132
00:09:32.399 --> 00:09:34.840
Your mother and I had our differences, and I let

133
00:09:34.879 --> 00:09:36.759
them keep me from knowing you the way I should have.

134
00:09:37.559 --> 00:09:40.600
But I knew enough. I knew that you have the gift,

135
00:09:41.200 --> 00:09:44.519
even if you don't know it yet. The women in

136
00:09:44.559 --> 00:09:47.279
our family have always had a connection to growing things,

137
00:09:47.759 --> 00:09:52.559
a sensitivity, an empathy. It skipped your mother, much to

138
00:09:52.600 --> 00:09:55.000
her relief. But I saw it in you when you

139
00:09:55.039 --> 00:09:57.720
were seven years old, and the roses bloomed out of

140
00:09:57.759 --> 00:10:02.080
season when you walked past them. The garden knows you're coming.

141
00:10:02.679 --> 00:10:07.000
It's been waiting. Be patient with yourself. The gift takes

142
00:10:07.039 --> 00:10:10.759
time to understand. Matt will help. He knows what I was,

143
00:10:11.320 --> 00:10:15.440
even if he doesn't have the empathy himself. Trust him

144
00:10:15.600 --> 00:10:18.720
and trust the garden. It wants what's best for you,

145
00:10:19.000 --> 00:10:23.720
even when its methods are unsubtle. All my love, aunt

146
00:10:23.799 --> 00:10:28.360
Vera p s. The greenhouse can be overwhelming in spring.

147
00:10:29.000 --> 00:10:31.919
Try to eat something before you go in there. Low blood,

148
00:10:31.919 --> 00:10:36.679
sugar and botanical empathy don't mix well. I read the

149
00:10:36.720 --> 00:10:40.679
letter three times, then I set it down and stare

150
00:10:40.720 --> 00:10:45.360
at the wall for a while. Botanical empathy the gift.

151
00:10:46.039 --> 00:10:50.639
The garden knows I'm coming. This is insane. This is

152
00:10:50.679 --> 00:10:53.399
the kind of thing that happens in fairy tales, not

153
00:10:53.519 --> 00:10:56.440
in real life. Not to former accountants who quit their

154
00:10:56.519 --> 00:11:00.080
jobs because they couldn't stop crying in the bathroom. But

155
00:11:00.120 --> 00:11:03.879
I think about the greenhouse, the way everything pressed against

156
00:11:03.879 --> 00:11:08.879
my senses, the wanting I felt coming from everywhere at once.

157
00:11:10.200 --> 00:11:13.240
If I'm being honest with myself, if I'm being really

158
00:11:13.360 --> 00:11:18.159
truly honest, I've been feeling something like that since I arrived,

159
00:11:18.639 --> 00:11:23.279
a hum underneath everything, an awareness of green and growing things,

160
00:11:23.919 --> 00:11:27.000
just at the edge of my perception. I thought it

161
00:11:27.080 --> 00:11:31.159
was stress. I thought it was grief. What if it's

162
00:11:31.200 --> 00:11:36.039
something else. Entirely that night I dream about the garden,

163
00:11:37.080 --> 00:11:40.679
not the way you normally dream about places, vague impressions,

164
00:11:40.879 --> 00:11:47.639
symbolic imagery, the usual subconscious nonsense. This is vivid, immersive,

165
00:11:48.120 --> 00:11:52.279
more real than waking. I'm standing in the greenhouse. But

166
00:11:52.360 --> 00:11:56.240
the greenhouse is enormous, stretching out in every direction, farther

167
00:11:56.320 --> 00:12:00.960
than I can see, And everything is growing, not slowly,

168
00:12:01.360 --> 00:12:06.879
the way plants actually grow fast, urgent, pushing up through

169
00:12:06.919 --> 00:12:10.639
the soil and climbing toward an unseen light. I can

170
00:12:10.679 --> 00:12:14.440
feel them, not just see them, feel them, the pull

171
00:12:14.480 --> 00:12:18.639
of water through roots, the unfurling of leaves, the desperate

172
00:12:18.720 --> 00:12:22.840
stretch towards sun, and underneath it, all that throb of want,

173
00:12:23.919 --> 00:12:27.120
the same want I've felt during the tour, but stronger, now,

174
00:12:27.360 --> 00:12:31.399
more insistent. Spring is here. The garden is telling me.

175
00:12:32.279 --> 00:12:37.519
Everything is ready, everything is reaching for connection. Find him,

176
00:12:37.720 --> 00:12:41.679
the garden says, not in words, not in anything I

177
00:12:41.679 --> 00:12:46.720
could describe as language, just a knowing a direction. Find

178
00:12:46.799 --> 00:12:51.759
him and let us bloom. I wake up tangled in sheets, sweating,

179
00:12:52.360 --> 00:12:55.840
my heart racing like I've been running. The clock says

180
00:12:55.879 --> 00:12:59.799
three a m. Through the window, I can see the

181
00:12:59.799 --> 00:13:04.200
Gris house glowing faintly in the moonlight. I do not

182
00:13:04.320 --> 00:13:10.279
go back to sleep. Morning finds me in the kitchen garden,

183
00:13:10.679 --> 00:13:14.879
aggressively weeding. I don't know anything about weeding. I've never

184
00:13:14.919 --> 00:13:18.000
gardened in my life, but I woke up with too

185
00:13:18.080 --> 00:13:21.879
much energy, too much of that strange awareness humming through me,

186
00:13:22.480 --> 00:13:26.200
and I needed to do something physical. The weeds seemed

187
00:13:26.240 --> 00:13:30.960
like a safe choice. You're up early. I don't jump.

188
00:13:31.559 --> 00:13:36.279
I definitely don't jump. I just move suddenly in a

189
00:13:36.279 --> 00:13:40.279
startled fashion. Matt is standing at the edge of the garden,

190
00:13:40.679 --> 00:13:43.440
coffee cup in hand, looking like the kind of person

191
00:13:43.480 --> 00:13:46.480
who's been awake for hours and is completely at peace

192
00:13:46.519 --> 00:13:51.120
with it. Couldn't sleep, I say, brushing dirt off my knees.

193
00:13:52.039 --> 00:13:54.600
The garden does that to people. Takes a while to

194
00:13:54.639 --> 00:13:59.159
adjust to the energy. The energy, I say it flatly,

195
00:13:59.320 --> 00:14:04.840
daring him to elaborate. VERA didn't tell you. He walks closer,

196
00:14:05.240 --> 00:14:07.519
hands me the second coffee cup. I didn't notice he

197
00:14:07.600 --> 00:14:12.360
was holding. The garden is particular. It takes time to

198
00:14:12.399 --> 00:14:19.200
get used to particular, how it has opinions, preferences. It

199
00:14:19.279 --> 00:14:22.759
knows what it wants. He SIPs his coffee, watching me

200
00:14:22.799 --> 00:14:27.480
over the rim, and it usually gets it. I think

201
00:14:27.519 --> 00:14:32.559
about the dream, the pull toward connection, the very unsubtle

202
00:14:32.639 --> 00:14:36.720
directive to find him. My aunt left me a letter,

203
00:14:37.159 --> 00:14:41.399
I say, carefully. She mentioned something about a family gift,

204
00:14:42.039 --> 00:14:47.720
an empathy with plants. Ah Matt nods like this confirms

205
00:14:47.720 --> 00:14:53.440
something he suspected. So you're feeling it already, feeling what

206
00:14:55.120 --> 00:15:00.440
everything he gestures at the garden around us. It's may

207
00:15:00.639 --> 00:15:04.600
the whole property is in reproductive overdrive. For someone with

208
00:15:04.639 --> 00:15:11.840
the empathy, that can be intense. Intense. How he opens

209
00:15:11.840 --> 00:15:14.600
his mouth to answer, and that's when the vine wraps

210
00:15:14.600 --> 00:15:19.039
around my ankle. I don't see it coming one second.

211
00:15:19.039 --> 00:15:22.600
I'm standing there, coffee in hand, having a civilized conversation.

212
00:15:23.919 --> 00:15:26.840
The next second, I'm pitching forward, tripped by a vine

213
00:15:26.879 --> 00:15:30.279
that I swear was not there. A moment ago, Matt

214
00:15:30.320 --> 00:15:34.039
catches me. His arms come around my waist, pulling me

215
00:15:34.080 --> 00:15:37.080
against his chest. Before I can face plant into the

216
00:15:37.159 --> 00:15:41.600
raised bed, the coffee goes flying. I grab his shoulders

217
00:15:41.600 --> 00:15:45.519
for balance, and suddenly I'm pressed against him, our faces

218
00:15:45.600 --> 00:15:50.279
inches apart, his hands warm through my shirt. Every flower

219
00:15:50.320 --> 00:15:55.679
in the kitchen garden blooms. I'm not exaggerating. I watch

220
00:15:55.720 --> 00:16:00.320
it happen over his shoulder, the tomato blossoms, opening, the verbs,

221
00:16:00.360 --> 00:16:04.360
sending up sudden flowers, even the vegetables throwing out blooms

222
00:16:04.399 --> 00:16:07.879
they shouldn't have for weeks. It's like a wave rolling

223
00:16:07.960 --> 00:16:11.759
outward from where we're standing, a chain reaction of flowering

224
00:16:11.919 --> 00:16:16.279
that sweeps across the entire garden. Matt looks at the flowers,

225
00:16:16.679 --> 00:16:21.759
looks at me. His expression is very carefully neutral. That's new,

226
00:16:22.120 --> 00:16:27.039
he says. I put away from him, face burning. What

227
00:16:27.080 --> 00:16:31.799
the hell was that? The empathy when you feel something strong,

228
00:16:31.840 --> 00:16:37.639
the garden responds, I didn't feel anything. He raises an eyebrow.

229
00:16:38.480 --> 00:16:42.559
I didn't. I stop, regroup, try to remember how words work.

230
00:16:43.279 --> 00:16:46.639
That was the garden's fault. The vine tripped me. The

231
00:16:46.720 --> 00:16:52.120
vine tripped you, he repeats, Yes, the vine that wasn't

232
00:16:52.120 --> 00:16:55.759
there before and has now mysteriously retreated back into the soil.

233
00:16:57.399 --> 00:17:00.679
I look down. He's right, there's no vine anywhere near

234
00:17:00.720 --> 00:17:06.799
my feet, just ordinary dirt, looking completely innocent. The garden

235
00:17:06.839 --> 00:17:12.920
did that on purpose, I say, probably why Matt's neutral

236
00:17:12.960 --> 00:17:19.000
expression cracks slightly. There's something underneath amusement or something warmer,

237
00:17:19.480 --> 00:17:23.480
something I don't want to examine too closely. The garden

238
00:17:23.640 --> 00:17:28.440
likes you, he says. And it's spring, and he trails off,

239
00:17:28.759 --> 00:17:31.839
shaking his head. I should get back to work. The

240
00:17:31.960 --> 00:17:36.200
roses need pruning. He walks away, and I'm left standing

241
00:17:36.240 --> 00:17:39.119
in a garden full of newly bloomed flowers, trying to

242
00:17:39.160 --> 00:17:52.079
pretend my pulse isn't racing. I spend the rest of

243
00:17:52.079 --> 00:17:56.440
the day avoiding the greenhouse. This is harder than it sounds.

244
00:17:57.200 --> 00:18:00.480
The greenhouse is the center of the property, the hub

245
00:18:00.559 --> 00:18:04.759
through which everything else connects. I find myself walking toward

246
00:18:04.839 --> 00:18:08.440
it three separate times before catching myself and veering off

247
00:18:08.440 --> 00:18:13.119
toward the woodland garden instead. But even in the woodland garden,

248
00:18:13.359 --> 00:18:18.240
I feel it that low hum of awareness, the garden's

249
00:18:18.240 --> 00:18:21.960
attention pressing against me like a cat demanding to be petted.

250
00:18:23.480 --> 00:18:26.359
Every time I think about Matt, about his hands on

251
00:18:26.440 --> 00:18:30.240
my waist, the heat of his chest against mine, the

252
00:18:30.240 --> 00:18:33.279
slightly shell shocked look in his eyes. When the flowers bloomed,

253
00:18:34.039 --> 00:18:39.519
The plants around me respond, leaves turning toward me, flowers

254
00:18:39.559 --> 00:18:43.880
opening vines, reaching in my direction like they want something.

255
00:18:44.440 --> 00:18:46.880
I do not know what they want. I do not

256
00:18:47.000 --> 00:18:52.200
want to know what they want. By evening, I've retreated

257
00:18:52.200 --> 00:18:55.160
to the cottage, where the plants are calmer and my

258
00:18:55.279 --> 00:18:58.759
thoughts are my own. I make dinner with the groceries

259
00:18:58.799 --> 00:19:02.759
someone stocked the fridge with, probably Matt, probably because he's

260
00:19:02.799 --> 00:19:07.079
infuriatingly considerate. And I read through the rest of Vera's folder.

261
00:19:07.920 --> 00:19:12.799
There's a lot history of the property, going back four generations.

262
00:19:13.720 --> 00:19:19.119
Maintenance schedules, seasonal rhythms, detailed notes about every section of

263
00:19:19.160 --> 00:19:22.480
the garden. A map of the grounds with annotations in

264
00:19:22.599 --> 00:19:26.920
Vera's cramped handwriting. Don't prune the roses until they tell

265
00:19:26.960 --> 00:19:31.039
you they're ready. The ferns like to be left alone.

266
00:19:31.119 --> 00:19:36.119
The greenhouse has moods. The greenhouse has moods of course

267
00:19:36.119 --> 00:19:39.359
it does, and at the very bottom of the folder

268
00:19:39.759 --> 00:19:42.440
a single sheet of paper with a warning I wish

269
00:19:42.519 --> 00:19:46.319
i'd read before the tour. The garden wants the laurel

270
00:19:46.359 --> 00:19:50.559
line to continue. It's been increasingly insistent since I told it.

271
00:19:50.599 --> 00:19:53.920
I wouldn't be providing an air If you're single when

272
00:19:53.960 --> 00:20:00.200
you arrive, be prepared for interference. It means well, but

273
00:20:00.240 --> 00:20:04.519
subtlety has never been its strong suit. I put down

274
00:20:04.559 --> 00:20:07.839
the paper. I think about the vine around my ankle,

275
00:20:08.839 --> 00:20:12.640
the flowers that bloomed when Matt touched me, the dream

276
00:20:12.680 --> 00:20:16.759
that told me to find him. The garden isn't just sentient.

277
00:20:17.000 --> 00:20:21.400
The garden is matchmaking, and apparently it's chosen its target.

278
00:20:22.400 --> 00:20:26.240
I should leave. That's the rational response to discovering that

279
00:20:26.319 --> 00:20:29.400
your inheritance is actively trying to set you up with

280
00:20:29.440 --> 00:20:33.720
the hot gardener. Pack my bags, call a real estate agent,

281
00:20:34.400 --> 00:20:38.039
Let someone else deal with the magical horny plants. But

282
00:20:39.880 --> 00:20:42.720
I stand at the cottage window, looking out at the garden.

283
00:20:42.839 --> 00:20:47.440
In the fading light. The greenhouse is glowing again, that

284
00:20:47.559 --> 00:20:51.680
faint luminescence I noticed last night. The roses are settling

285
00:20:51.720 --> 00:20:55.799
into their evening posture, petals furling slightly against the cooling air,

286
00:20:56.720 --> 00:21:03.680
and everywhere, everywhere life, the patient, persistent push of spring.

287
00:21:05.200 --> 00:21:07.839
I haven't felt this much in years. That's the thing

288
00:21:07.920 --> 00:21:12.000
I keep coming back to. For eight years, I optimized

289
00:21:12.000 --> 00:21:17.079
my life for efficiency, eliminated distractions, focused on metrics and

290
00:21:17.119 --> 00:21:21.559
outcomes and quarterly reports, and somewhere along the way, I

291
00:21:21.599 --> 00:21:25.119
stopped feeling anything at all, not just joy or desire

292
00:21:25.279 --> 00:21:29.119
or excitement, all of it. The whole spectrum of human

293
00:21:29.200 --> 00:21:33.759
experience dimmed to a gray haze of productivity. Then I

294
00:21:33.839 --> 00:21:36.079
quit my job and drove to Connecticut and walked into

295
00:21:36.119 --> 00:21:40.880
a greenhouse, and suddenly everything is color again. Too much color,

296
00:21:40.920 --> 00:21:46.279
maybe overwhelming and confusing and completely outside my ability to control,

297
00:21:47.160 --> 00:21:52.640
but also alive, real, present in a way nothing has

298
00:21:52.680 --> 00:21:56.759
been for years. The garden pulses gently at the edge

299
00:21:56.799 --> 00:22:00.880
of my awareness, patient and pleased. I can feel its

300
00:22:00.920 --> 00:22:04.279
satisfaction at my thoughts. It's encouragement for me to stay.

301
00:22:04.920 --> 00:22:07.960
It's very unsubtle hope that I'll go find Matt and

302
00:22:08.039 --> 00:22:12.759
let nature take its course. Not happening, I say out loud.

303
00:22:13.799 --> 00:22:16.720
The garden pulses again, and there's something in it that

304
00:22:16.759 --> 00:22:24.559
feels like laughter. We'll see about that next week. On

305
00:22:24.599 --> 00:22:28.960
hot house, the empathy grows stronger, the garden gets bolder,

306
00:22:29.480 --> 00:22:32.519
and Daphne discovers what happens when she can't hide from

307
00:22:32.559 --> 00:22:33.359
her own desire.