She walked past the horrible tableau and went down one of the main aisles. Here things were more like she expected. Different booths featuring different items for sale. Some were craft-based while others were antiques and a few had nothing but junk.
She stopped in front of a booth filled with quilts. The work was lovely—beautiful and well-made, but the display was terrible. Only two quilts were hanging. The rest were stacked, with only a bit of the design showing. Olivia would guess the owner wanted to display as much of her work as possible, but nothing about this was working. She should hang three or four quilts, then have a binder with high-quality pictures of her inventory. A pretty chest could hold several dozen of them, so a customer had choices.
She continued wandering the aisles only to find herself forced to make a sharp right turn that ended in a blank wall. She went back the way she’d come and realized she’d missed several rows of booths. The flow of the mall was all wrong, she thought. There would be booths and vendors that no one would see. There had to be a better way. She wondered if there was someone she could—
“Don’t bother,” she murmured to herself as she headed back to the front of the building. As her mother had told her countless times, no one cared what she thought. They never had.
* * *
The scent of blueberries and sugar and something baking filled the café. Helen’s stomach growled, despite the fact that she’d managed to grab a salad at eleven, before the big lunch rush. Still, it had been small and dressing-free and whatever was happening in the kitchen needed to be tasted.
“What are you doing, taunting me like that?” she asked as she walked in back.
Delja stood at the stove with Sven by her side. They were each stirring a large pot. Here the delicious smell was intense to the point of being heady but what really caught her attention was the contrast between the two friends.
Sven topped Delja by at least a foot. He was broad-shouldered and chiseled, some from his job and some from working out. Delja was short and round. He was blond-haired and blue-eyed. Delja had dark hair and eyes. He was Nordic, she was Russian, but they came together over their love of cooking.
Sven had shown up in the diner’s kitchen shortly after he’d moved to town and asked if he could use the large stove. He’d been so charming, no one had thought to tell him no. Every few weeks he would arrive with interesting ingredients. Together he and Delja would create something amazing for the following day’s special.
“You’re killing me,” Helen said as she peered into the pots and saw early blueberries simmering in a thick sauce.
“She’s on another diet,” Delja said, rolling her eyes.
Ack! Did her friend have to choose this moment to start speaking in more than single words?
“Sven doesn’t need to know that,” Helen said quickly, hoping she didn’t blush. After all, Sven was the poster boy for physical perfection.
“You’re beautiful,” Delja told her. “Don’t change.”
“I agree.” Sven held out a spoon coated in thick, dark purple sauce. “Try this.”
She hesitated for a second before taking the spoon and putting it to her lips. The explosions of flavors—sweet blueberries, something tart and a hint of butter and brown sugar had her groaning.
“You’re the devil.”
“So I’ve been told,” Sven said with a grin. “Tomorrow you’ll have blintzes and crepes on the menu.”
Helen held in a whimper. How was she supposed to exist on plain salad while surrounded by blintzes?
“I have a meeting at JML,” she said. “You two will lock up when you’re done?”
Delja nodded. She motioned for Helen to move close, then hugged her tight.
“Beautiful girl.”
“Thanks. You’re always good to me.”
Delja smiled.
“Come here, you,” Sven said, surprising her by pulling her into his embrace.
Helen didn’t have time to wonder if Sven had decided to see her as more than a friend. Before she could gather any thoughts at all, he’d squeezed all the air out of her and then ruffled her hair.
“You’re fine. Stop trying to change.”
“Thanks,” she said between clenched teeth. “Great advice.”
Ruffled her hair? What, was she five? Apparently no one saw her as a sexual being. It was incredibly disappointing. Not that she wanted Sven but still.
She drove to JML and walked inside. It was too early for lessons, so the building was blissfully silent—except for the occasional smack of a bowling ball hitting pins. But when compared to the indignities the untrained could inflict on an innocent guitar, the sound was almost welcome.
She found Isaak in his office. She waved as she plopped down in one of the visitor chairs.
“Let me guess,” she said with a grin. “You have a new group that wants to learn every song from the Foo Fighters.”
“I wish, but no. I’m hosting a showcase.”
“You’re always hosting a showcase. I heard the one last night was particularly challenging for those attending.”
He groaned. “Tell me about it. You were lucky you didn’t have to be there. But this is different. There are a couple of other music schools that do what we do. We’ve been talking about organizing something together. It’s going to be up here at Petal Pushers.”
“They changed the name. It’s The Dutch Bunch now.”
“Whatever. I can’t keep up. Anyway, the venue is great and we’re each going to bring our best bands and players. I thought you and Jeff could do a duet.”
Naked, she thought dreamily. That was the duet she was most interested in. Naked Jeff and naked her. Not onstage, though. In her bedroom. Yup, that would be fantastic. Just their bodies touching and rubbing and—
“Helen?”
“What? Oh, sorry. That would be great. We can do our usual.”
Isaak sighed. “Not everyone likes Billy Joel.”
“Everyone should. He’s an icon and my personal piano hero.”
“I thought you could try something different.” He passed over sheet music.
She picked it up and glanced at the title. As she didn’t know if she should laugh or scream, the sound that escaped had a snortlike quality to it.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. You’d be great.”
“It’s not a duet.”
“It could be.”
Helen briefly closed her eyes. “‘Wrecking Ball’? I doubt Jeff knows who Miley Cyrus is and I know he’s never heard the song. It’s not his style.”
“Neither is Billy Joel but Jeff does it for you. I think ‘Wrecking Ball’ has potential.” Isaak winked. “Plus, he’ll love the video.”
Helen winced. No offense to anyone, but having Jeff watch that particular video was not going to get him in the mood to have sex with her. Miley was too beautiful, too perfect, too everything. Ordinary, plump women wouldn’t stand a chance.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said.
“Your lack of enthusiasm is inspiring.”
“I still think we should stick with what works.”
“No Billy Joel.”
She took the music and stood. “I’m going to tell Billy you said that and he’s going to come beat the crap out of you, so there.”
Isaak laughed. “I’m willing to take the chance.”
9
By the time Kelly was due to leave for the tourist board meeting, she was back to her regular self.
In deference to Olivia and not because her sister made her feel frumpy and androgynous, Kelly dug out a pair of relatively new jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt she rarely wore because it required ironing when it was washed. She took an extra couple of minutes with her hair, releasing it from her usual ponytail and fluffin
g it with her fingers. She thought briefly about mascara, but was afraid the single tube she owned might be well over a year old and God knew what could be growing in it. She settled on swiping on a little Burt’s Bees lip balm and called it a night.
When she stepped into the hall, she caught sight of her sister and thought maybe she should have risked an eye infection. Olivia had changed into a dress. Not just any dress, but a pretty sleeveless one that was white at the top and bottom with wide bands of different shades of pink and red in the middle. The dress had a relatively high neck, was fitted to the waist, then flared out to just above Olivia’s knees.
Her bare legs were toned and tanned and she wore a high-heeled nude pump. Her hair was pulled back into a French braid. She had on pearl studs and the kind of makeup that made her look sophisticated and competent.
Kelly felt her meager confidence shrivel and die as she turned from normal human to genderless country mouse. Telling herself she didn’t care about things like clothes and makeup didn’t help. Not when faced with a living, breathing example of what both could accomplish.
Olivia smiled. “Hi. I’m ready. You said six thirty and I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“You’re right on time,” Kelly said, hoping she didn’t sound as bitter as she felt. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault Kelly felt inept when it came to things like fashion.
“I’m really interested in the meeting tonight,” Olivia said as they walked out to Kelly’s truck. “I spent the afternoon researching tourism in the area and in other towns similar to this one. There are a lot of things that can be done to draw in tourists.” She opened the passenger door. “Don’t worry. I’ll only take notes and give you my thoughts later. You can use them or not.”
Kelly put her key in the ignition. “What do you mean?”
“It’s your meeting. I’m not going to butt in.”
“Trust me, any ideas would be welcome. We’re all at a loss. The tourist season around here is way too brief. Once the tulips are gone, so are the people. The hotels are full all summer long, but everyone is busy going somewhere else. We have the same weather as the rest of western Washington. It’s pretty. Why not spend the weekend here?”
“You wouldn’t mind if I said something?”
“Of course not. Is that what you did today? Computer research?”
“I drove around this morning. There are a few changes, but not that many. I went to The Dutch Bunch.”
“What did you think?”
“It has a lot of potential, but right now it’s a mess. That display by the door is overwhelming and way too busy. It’s going to frighten people away. And the layout of the booths is odd. There are entire sections you can’t get to without knowing where you’re going. How does anyone make any money?”
“I’m not sure anyone does.”
Kelly had to admit she’d never much thought about how the craft mall was laid out.
“Did your friends seem different?” she asked. “Or is everyone the same?”
“A bit of both.”
“I know you mentioned wanting to see Ryan. It’s possible he’s dating someone. Just so you’re prepared and all.” She glanced at her sister, then back at the road. “I’m saying that to give you a heads-up. Not to hurt you or anything.”
Olivia stared at her. “Why would you think I’d assume you wanted to hurt me? I know you don’t. We might not have been close since we were little, Kelly, but you’re still my sister. I’m going to assume the best about you until you prove to me I shouldn’t.”
Wow—that was mature. And nice. And unexpected.
“Ah, me, too.” Great, so not only was Olivia the prettier sister, she was also more mature and gracious. Kelly sighed. “Okay, don’t get mad, but I thought you’d be more like Mom. Not that I know anything about her now, but I thought you’d be like how she was before.”
“Cruel and slutty?”
“Not that, exactly. It’s just you two were so close and it was hard on you when she left.”
Olivia stared out the window. “It was hard on you, too. You might not have gotten along, but she was still your mother and you were only fifteen.”
“You were twelve. She was your world. I know you were devastated.” She drew in a breath. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you more. You know, when she left. I should have been more understanding.”
“You were going through your own thing.”
“It was my fault she left,” Kelly said quickly.
“No, it wasn’t. She was going to leave anyway. Even I knew that. You don’t actually believe you drove her away, do you?”
“Sometimes. I wish I didn’t, but every now and then I wonder if I pushed her over the edge.”
“She was already there.”
Kelly hoped that was true, then shook her head. That wasn’t right, not sure how to explain it, even to herself. Everything with Marilee was complicated.
“You said you see her,” Kelly said. “Are you close?”
“I barely know her.”
“I wonder where she is now. What she’s doing. Did she remarry?”
Olivia shook her head. “She’s not the type.”
“I guess not. I never hear from her. After she left, I kept waiting for her to get in touch with me, but she never did.”
“I kept waiting, too.” Olivia’s tone was bitter. “I’m the one who reached out to her. It’s not as if she missed having a daughter around.”
Kelly pulled into the parking lot. When she turned off the engine, she faced her sister. “I really am sorry about all you went through.”
“We both went through a lot.” Olivia wrinkled her nose. “I keep telling myself to get over all the childhood drama. It happened a long time ago and I’m a different person now. Only I can’t seem to let go of all of it, you know?”
“I do,” Kelly said slowly, pushing down the guilt swelling inside of her. Olivia wasn’t just dealing with the fact that her mother had left. She had the additional trauma of having been sent away when she was only fifteen. A decision Kelly had been a significant part of.
“This place has potential,” Olivia said, pointing to the building. “Who manages it?”
“The craft mall doesn’t have a manager. It just sort of runs itself. You apply to rent a booth and when one opens up, it’s yours. We pay by the quarter for our booth.” She tried to think of a few other facts. “Oh, the tourist board is in charge because the craft mall is supposed to attract tourists to the area.”
Olivia looked from the building back to her. “Seriously?”
“Maybe it’s not doing a great job.”
“You think?” Olivia got out of the truck.
Kelly joined her and they walked inside. As they passed the entrance to the booth part of the building, Kelly glanced at the main display and winced. Olivia was right. It was a mess and kind of overwhelming. Maybe someone should clean it up or something.
They walked back to the community room. Rows of chairs had been set up facing the small stage. Judging by the number of seats provided, someone was expecting a large crowd. Kelly had a feeling that was more about optimism than an actual likely head count. There were about six people in the room and she would be impressed if they even doubled the number of attendees.
Olivia excused herself to use the restroom. When she’d walked away, Kelly spotted Helen.
She crossed to her friend who met her by the chairs.
“OMG!” Helen said, giving her a quick hug. “She’s really here. Wow, she looks great. I love the dress. Oh, to be that thin and gorgeous. Why didn’t you call me? I would have thought the unexpected return of your long, lost sister was call-worthy.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I was in shock and didn’t know what to do, so I ran. I came here for the showcase because I thought you were playing
with Dad. I forgot the band had their own vocalist.”
“How was she?”
“Awful.”
Helen grinned. “Oh, good. More work for me.” Her smile faded. “Are you okay? How’s it going? Is it weird?”
“More than weird.” Kelly glanced over her shoulder and saw Olivia chatting with Sally.
“What’s she like?”
“I don’t know. In some ways really nice. She’s all grown up. It’s been eleven years, but I didn’t expect her to be so mature.”
“Your dad’s excited,” Helen told her. “He was practically giddy this morning.” She pressed her lips together as if she didn’t want to say too much.
Kelly could read between the lines. No doubt her father wrestled with the same guilt that she did.
“Ladies.”
Kelly turned as Griffith joined them. Her heart gave an unexpected little bump in her chest and she suddenly didn’t know where to put her hands. In her pockets, behind her back, on Griffith’s chest? All options that left her flustered...especially that last one. Which was curious because she wasn’t the type to be...
A hazy memory of her asking if he was going to kiss her stirred. Heat burned her cheeks as she ducked her head. No. That couldn’t have... She hadn’t...
The need to run exploded but by then he’d reached them and there was no way to escape.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Kelly. “All recovered?” He looked at Helen. “Our girl here drank a fair amount of vodka.”
Helen’s brows rose. “In celebration of your sister’s return, no doubt. Did you hydrate?”
“Yes, and I took aspirin and I feel fine. It was nothing.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you for bringing my truck back.”
“You’re welcome. You owe me.”
The teasing tone did a number on her stomach, not to mention other parts of her. Ack! She had to get a grip.
Griffith looked over to where Olivia was now talking to a larger group of people. She said something and everyone laughed.
Secrets of the Tulip Sisters Page 10