Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

by Susan Mallery

  “That I would end up sixteen and pregnant?”

  Kelly nodded.

  “You’re probably right.”

  Kelly gaped at her. “What?”

  Olivia sat on the sofa and sighed. “We were young and stupid, so getting pregnant seems inevitable. To be honest I don’t know if I would have had the kid or not. And if I had, you’re right. You would have been stuck, one way or the other. After all, you’re the responsible sister.”

  Kelly didn’t know what to do with the information, nor could she read her sister’s mood.

  “I’m sorry,” she said cautiously as she sat down.

  “I got that.” Olivia gave her a brief smile that faded quickly. “I’m not saying it didn’t hurt. Of course it did. My own sister wanted to get rid of me.” Her mouth twisted. “But the thing is, I kind of understand why.”

  “Thank you for saying that.”

  “You’re welcome. We both know better now,” Olivia told her. “I accept your apology. We can move on.”

  “I’d like that. I’m glad you came back. Are you?”

  “Mostly.”

  “Do you miss Phoenix?”

  Olivia shuddered. “Not at all. I honestly don’t know if I’m going back. My job isn’t going very well.” She glanced at her hands, then back at Kelly. “My boss is a bit of a nightmare. Everything is about her, which is exhausting. I’ve been thinking I need to make a change. Now I can get serious about it.”

  Kelly started to ask where she would go when it occurred to her that Olivia might want to stay here.

  Her first response was to insist that not happen. Tulpen Crossing was hers—her sister wasn’t welcome. But that was the teenager inside of her. On second thought, having Olivia around might not be that bad.

  She remembered when they’d been little and how Olivia had cried when Kelly had left to go to kindergarten. Kelly had done her best to remember everything that had happened during the day and had told her sister all about it the second she got home. Three years later Olivia had been the best prepared kid in her kindergarten class.

  When had all that changed, Kelly wondered.

  “I really am sorry,” she whispered.

  “I know. It’s okay. You saved me from being a teenaged mother, so that’s good.”

  “Are you seeing anyone in Phoenix?”

  “No. I don’t have many ties there, which is ridiculous considering how long I’ve lived there. I don’t have ties anywhere.”

  “You have us. Dad and me.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  Kelly pressed her lips together, then couldn’t help asking, “Are you still hoping to get back together with Ryan?”

  Olivia sighed. “I don’t know. He’s dating Autumn. I’m sure he’ll dump her eventually but then what? Do I want a guy who’ll dump someone for me? Doesn’t that mean he’ll dump me for someone else later?”

  “Technically yes, but seriously who could that be?”

  Olivia laughed. “It is hard to imagine anyone more sparkly and wonderful. How are things with Griffith?”

  “Confusing. Good.”

  “I’m glad.”

  They smiled at each other. Kelly felt the guilt ease. Some of it would linger, but steps had been taken. She and Olivia weren’t exactly close, but there was potential. Potential and promise.

  14

  Olivia emptied the contents of her grocery bag. She had a rotisserie chicken, mayo, mango chutney, curry powder, celery, walnuts and grapes, along with a loaf of freshly baked bread. Every now and then a girl had to celebrate her life with a curried chicken salad sandwich.

  She barely finished shredding the chicken when she heard a truck pull up to the house. The driver would either be her dad or her sister, and for once, Olivia was okay with either. Whatever anger she’d had at her dad had long since faded and having Kelly apologize so sincerely had made things right between them.

  The back door opened and her dad walked in.

  “Hey, sweetie. I thought you might be home. I came by to buy you lunch.”

  She motioned to all the ingredients on the island. “How about if I make you a sandwich instead?”

  “Even better.” Her dad crossed to the sink and washed his hands, then set the table. “What else can I do?”

  “Keep me company.”

  He leaned against the counter. “How are you settling in? You remembering what it’s like to live here?”

  She smiled. “Yes and no. It’s different, what with not being in high school. I’m hoping to meet up with a few friends.” Assuming she still had any in the area. When she’d last lived here, everything had been about Ryan rather than her girlfriends.

  “You’re not running from something, are you?” her father asked.

  “Oh, Dad.”

  His gaze was steady. “Not an answer, Olivia.”

  Ten years ago the paternal tone would have had her bristling. Today it made her feel taken care of.

  “I’m not in trouble, if that’s what you’re asking. There’s no scary boyfriend, no loan shark. Business really is slow in the summer and I wanted some time to think. I’m not loving everything about my life.”

  “Such as?”

  She dumped the shredded chicken into the bowl, then started halving grapes. “There’s no one special. I think maybe I’d like someone special.”

  “Make sure he’s a good guy. You want someone kind and capable. I know all you young girls want a good-looking guy with a hot car, but looks fade. Be more concerned about his character than his bank account.”

  Good advice, she thought sadly. Advice she should have gotten when she was seventeen, not twenty-five. Only she hadn’t been here at seventeen.

  “There are less good guys out there than you’d think,” she told him. Ryan certainly didn’t count. She wasn’t sure about Sven, not that they had a real relationship.

  “Besides,” she added, “a man is kind of the least of it right now.”

  She diced celery, then stirred the ingredients before adding the mayo and chutney. She folded in the walnuts last.

  “I’m not sure I like my job.” She got plates and put them on the island. “I take that back. I really don’t like my job. Any part of it.”

  “You do marketing for a real estate company?”

  She nodded. “I design the campaigns for each of the houses. I set up targeted advertising on social media, format the print ads, design the flyers. It’s okay, but there’s a real sameness to it. Plus, it’s not totally full-time, which means I spend the rest of my day being a secretary.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with honest work.”

  “I agree. I just want to do more. I’ve done some interior design work on the side and I’ve started staging homes for selling. That’s fun.”

  She scooped the salad onto the bread, then sliced the sandwiches in half. Her dad collected bags of chips from the pantry and poured them each iced tea from a pitcher in the refrigerator. They sat at the table.

  “Is there room for advancement?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Ah, no. It’s a real estate company owned by one individual and she’s not the nicest person around.” A second too late Olivia reminded herself not to say more about Marilee. Talk about flirting with danger.

  She battled with guilt—she should just fess up that she worked for her mom. But then what? Easier to keep quiet.

  “I did try selling real estate,” she added quickly. “It’s not for me. I’d rather be doing other things than tagging along on the house-buying adventure.” She sighed. “I think that’s part of my problem. I don’t want to do any one thing. I want to do all of them.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Because it’s traditional to have a single job.”

  “Sin
ce when have you been traditional?”

  An interesting question, she thought as she took a bite of her sandwich.

  “What do you like doing best?” her dad asked.

  “I like helping people,” she said automatically, shocking the hell out of herself and possibly him. “Okay, that was weird, but it’s true. Like the staging. I can take a plain house and make it so much more. I don’t need a big budget. Just some rearranging, a few flea market finds and I’m good and the people selling the house get a higher offer.”

  “I like what you did in the living room.”

  “Thanks. It’s really fun. I also like doing interior design so people can enjoy their homes more and I would love to get my hands on the craft mall. Oh, I’m enjoying the work for the auction. I want to be a part of things.”

  “Then that’s what you should do.”

  “That’s not one job.”

  Her father smiled at her. “No, it’s not. But it could be one company. You could offer many services, all similar in nature. There’s a lot of things that fall under the decorating umbrella. The same with the fund-raiser. Isn’t it a type of party planning? Granted, we live in a small town, but what about helping businesses attract more tourists? Or talk to Griffith about his micro housing. Is he doing all he can to market them? You have a lot of options, Olivia. Not everyone has to be a fifth-generation farmer. The world only needs so many tulips.”

  She smiled. “Don’t let Kelly hear you say that.”

  “I won’t say anything if you won’t.”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  Saturday morning Kelly was up at her usual time. Normally she tried to sleep in, but today was her first time volunteering at GB Micro Housing and she didn’t want to be late. She walked into the bathroom only to find her sister was already dressed.

  “Hi. You’re awake early.”

  “I know.” Olivia rolled her eyes. “I think it’s the birds. They’re so noisy at daybreak, which this time of year means five thirty. I couldn’t get back to sleep. What are you doing up?”

  “Griffith is holding a volunteer event. He’s been collecting materials to build tiny homes for a charity that supports the homeless. We’re going to build several tiny homes today. They’ll be delivered where they’re needed.”

  “I didn’t know he did that. Want another pair of hands?”

  “Absolutely. Can you be ready to leave in twenty minutes?”

  “I can be ready in ten.”

  Olivia was as good as her word. Eleven minutes later they were driving to Griffith’s warehouse.

  “He said there would be breakfast there,” Kelly said. “It’s donated. I’ve never done one of these before, so I don’t know exactly what to expect.”

  “You haven’t done this before? I thought you two had been dating a while.”

  “No. Not that long.”

  Kelly wasn’t sure they were really dating now, but she wasn’t going to admit that. Griffith had said he wanted them to get together and he kissed her in a way that had made her toes curl, but she wasn’t sure that made them a couple.

  They pulled into the parking lot. There were hardly any spaces left and most of the cars looked unfamiliar.

  “This is a crowd,” Olivia said. “He must really put out the word. I wonder if he’s on a volunteer email loop or if the charity he works with has contact with someone with a database of volunteers. That would make the most sense.”

  “Thinking of starting a charity?” Kelly asked, her voice teasing.

  “No, just thinking about ways to get people together. Information is always good.”

  They went into the main warehouse. There had to be at least fifty people there. The regular houses had been moved out and in their place were stacks of material. Kelly saw the build was going to have an assembly line quality to it. Supplies were lined up in order. House frames at one end and finishes at the other.

  Several huge posters hung from the walls. There was a detailed floor plan of the 8x12 home: to the left of the door were a two-burner stove and a small refrigerator, along with a small sink. To the right was a sofa that folded out into a twin bed. At the back were a toilet and a shower.

  There were a few cabinets for storage above the stove and sink and above the sofa bed. Solar panels provided electricity and the toilet had a holding tank that could be emptied into an RV waste dump.

  “Not bad for less than a hundred square feet,” Olivia murmured. “Because of the width, the house can easily be towed.”

  “How do you know that?” Kelly asked.

  “I’ve done some research on all the major employers in town. Griffith’s company is one of them.”

  Her sister continued to surprise her, Kelly thought.

  Helen hurried over and greeted them. “Breakfast is in the other warehouse,” she said. “You check in there, as well. They assign tasks based on your skill level.” She showed them her blue badge. “I’m screwing in things like door handles and doing a final clean. I begged for drywall installation. I mean, that’s a skill I could really use, but did I get it?”

  “Is there drywall on the walls?” Kelly asked.

  “No. They use some special lightweight material instead. Another hope dashed. But I’m thinking I’m going to have to take some kind of basic home repair course if I don’t want to always get stuck with cabinet knobs and cleaning.”

  “I guess we’ll all be cleaning,” Kelly said.

  “I know how to do some plumbing,” Olivia told her.

  Kelly put her hands on her hips. “Are you serious?”

  “In college I had an apartment with a bunch of leaky faucets. The landlord was never around, so I learned to do it myself.” She smiled smugly. “Let’s go register.”

  “Show-off,” Kelly grumbled, more impressed than she wanted to admit.

  They walked into the second warehouse. People were eating breakfast and introducing themselves to each other. There were several groups Kelly didn’t recognize and she wondered if they’d come up from Seattle to help. Through the open back doors she saw the trailers that would carry the completed homes to their final destination.

  She and her sister registered. She, too, was given a blue tag while Olivia’s was orange. Olivia waved it.

  “I get to install kitchen sinks,” she said happily. “And the faucets. Not the toilets or showers, though. Those require licensed plumbers. I wonder what it would take to get a license.”

  “I’m impressed,” Helen said. “Let’s get some breakfast before we get started.”

  The buffet of eggs, bacon and sausage were from a catering company in Bellingham. Griffith joined them in line.

  “Morning,” he said.

  Kelly felt herself get a little swoony at the sight of him. Ridiculous. It had just been a couple of kisses. She was stronger than that. Only not, apparently, around Griffith.

  “Not buying local?” she asked, pointing at the name on the side of the food trays.

  “I ask for the food to be donated at cost,” he told her. “Which means whoever provides it is losing money. The catering company is owned by a large corporation. I figured they can afford it while it would be tough on Helen. She would never refuse me and I didn’t want to put her in an awkward position.”

  It was too early for him to be that sweet, Kelly thought. She hadn’t even had coffee. How was she supposed to resist him when he talked like that?

  “You’re a good guy,” she complained. “Nice even.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Aren’t you going to be upset that I said that? Don’t most guys want to be bad?”

  He put his hand on the small of her back and eased her forward in line. “I’m not most guys. You like nice. It makes you feel safe, ergo I like being nice.”

  “Ergo?
”

  “I’m very cosmopolitan.”

  He was a lot of things, she thought happily. “I’m stuck with a blue badge,” she said, showing him. “I have no construction skills. That’s depressing.”

  “You can be on my team. We’re installing solar panels.”

  “You’d trust me with that?”

  “We need someone to make sure we don’t run into anything as we’re raising the panels. You can do that.” He leaned close and whispered, “If anyone asks, just tell them you’re with the band.”

  She laughed. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Olivia spent the day installing sinks in tiny homes. She had to run the pipes first, set the sinks in place, connect everything, then test her work. A little before noon, as she crawled out from under the third sink, she got the idea that maybe she’d been chosen more for her size than her skill level. None of the male plumbers could have fit in the cramped space.

  At lunchtime Helen came and got her.

  “Are you feeling superior?” Helen asked. “With your mad skills?”

  “I’m mostly feeling like a pretzel. How about you?”

  “I have applied door handles to the best of my ability, vacuumed and wiped down entire homes. I’m smug in my goodness.”

  They collected sandwiches and salads and took them outside to sit on the grass. Olivia noticed Kelly hanging out with Griffith.

  “Someone’s crazy about her new boyfriend,” Olivia said in a singsong voice.

  “I’m glad. Kelly deserves a great guy.”

  “Don’t we all.” She looked across the lawn to where Sven sat with a group of the construction guys. He caught her gaze and winked. She smiled back, then turned to Helen. “What about you? Is there anyone special lurking in your bed?”

  “I wish.” Helen sighed. “I’m divorced, which is fine. Troy was a jerk and I shouldn’t have married him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too, but it’s done. And now...” Her voice trailed off.