"I'm sure he isn't fixing to do a thing like that, ma'am, but he's no botanist."
"And for you, Phyllis...." James handed his wife the awkward bundle to unwrap for herself.
She tore the papers off slowly. "Oh, Jim, darling, it's—it's—"
"You wanted a bit of green, so I ordered a plant from Earth. You like it? I hope you do."
"Oh, Jim!" She embraced him and the pot simultaneously. "More than anything!"
"It won't stay green," Magnolia observed. "Either it'll turn blue or it'll die. Puny-looking specimen, isn't it?"
"Well," said James, "it's only a youngster. I guess this Christmas is too early, but next Christmas there ought to be berries. It's a holly plant, Phyl."
"Holly," she repeated, her voice shaking a little. "Holly." She and Dr. Cutler exchanged glances.
"I told you, Miz Phyllis, ma'am—he may know the first thing about botany, but he doesn't know anything after that."
"Jim," Phyllis said, linking her free arm through his, "I misjudged you. Dr. Cutler is right. You don't know so very much about botany, after all."