Secrets Of The Tulip Sisters

4

Jammin’ Madame Lefeber—named for the tulip, not a person—took up about a third of what had once been a grocery store, long since defunct. The other two-thirds were a bowling alley, with both businesses sharing the ample parking lot. On the upside, neither business cared if the other made noise. On the downside, despite thick layers of insulation and sound-deadening drywall, the crack of bowling balls hitting the pins could still be heard. It was a low and arrhythmic beat and could distract even the most professional of musicians.

Helen walked into the foyer a couple of minutes early. Pictures of former students covered the walls. Some were classic studio poses while others showed bands playing live at a venue. She smiled when she saw Jeff and herself in the background of many of the band shots.

JML was a music school that focused more on guitar and drums than the more classical instruments. As part of the services, students could put together a band. An instructor would help them learn a handful of songs, then arrange for a showcase onstage at Petal Pushers or somewhere else. To help the fledgling bandmates get their sound together, near professional-level musicians played along.

The work didn’t pay much. Helen did it for the fun and to get the chance to play keyboard every now and then. The bands were interesting, although rarely gifted. Still, it was better than playing piano alone in her living room. Adding to the pleasure was the fact that she and Jeff frequently worked as a team. The man played a mean guitar. More than one fourteen-year-old had been left slack-jawed at Jeff’s rendition of “Stairway to Heaven.”

Thinking about Jeff got her chest to fluttering. She reminded herself of the importance of appearing cool, even if she didn’t feel it, despite the fact that her feelings for the man bordered on a rock-star crush.

She knew that he’d played in a rock band in high school, then had quit after he’d gotten married. She wasn’t sure when he’d taken up the guitar again. She’d started working with the students at JML years ago—shortly after her divorce. In fact, that was where she’d first noticed Jeff. She’d fallen for him during an off-key Beatles retrospective—specifically “Hard Day’s Night.”

Before she could dig up more swoon-worthy memories, Jeff appeared in the foyer. Her throat immediately tightened and speech became impossible. What was it about a man in a plaid shirt? Okay—not any man—just this one. Or maybe it was the worn jeans that hugged his narrow hips and long legs. Or the way he held his guitar case with such confidence.

Jeff smiled as he approached. “Heard anything about our latest bandmates?”

“Isaak said they’re fifteen-year-old twins who got guitars for their birthday.”

Jeff winced. “Why do parents do that?”

“Someone has to be the next generation of rock music.”

Isaak, a tall, curly-haired man of mixed heritage, walked into the foyer. “You’re here,” he said, sounding grateful. “Adults. Thank God.”

“How are the new students?”

“You honestly don’t want to know. They’re arguing about whether to play Atreyu or Pop Evil.”

“Are those bands or songs?” Jeff asked.

“Bands,” Helen told him. “You really have to pay attention to music from this century.”

“I like Coldplay.”

“They started in the nineties.”

“But they have songs out this century.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Probably.” Jeff turned to Isaak. “Give them the approved music list.”

“That’s less of a problem than them having trouble grasping what a chord is. Can you give me a few minutes?”

Jeff looked at Helen who nodded.

“We’ll wait,” Jeff told him.

The music director retreated to one of the practice rooms. Jeff and Helen walked to the break room in the back. Jeff pulled several dollar bills out of his pocket and walked to the soda machine.

“Diet Coke?” he asked.

“Thanks.”

He got them each a can, then joined her at the round table by the window. One wall thumped from uneven drumming while another vibrated with an overly enthusiastic bass guitar.

“We should have brought earplugs,” he told her.

“You always say that. The students get better.”

“Not today.”

The table was small, forcing them to sit close enough for their knees to bump. With every casual contact, Helen felt a jolt of awareness zip up her leg. Talk about stupid.

“I can’t believe you mocked Coldplay,” he said.

“I didn’t. I simply pointed out you’re not a fan of contemporary music.”

“No one’s better than the Rolling Stones.”

“Billy Joel is better.”

He looked at her over the can. “You have a thing for him so you can’t be impartial.”

“My thing for Billy is nothing when compared to your slavish devotion to that British band.”

“Mine doesn’t have a sexual component. That makes it more honest.”

“Because sex isn’t honest?” she asked with a laugh.

“You know what I mean. I’m not blinded by lust.”

“It’s not lust.” Of that she was sure. Her love for Billy Joel was different than her feelings for Jeff. Now if he really wanted to talk lust, she was all in.

“Next time he’s in Seattle, I should take you to a concert,” he said. “Unless you’re going to throw yourself at the stage. I’m not sure how I’d feel about that.”

There was so much unexpected information in that brief statement, she didn’t know what to say. Was Jeff asking her out? No, it was a friendly invitation, but still. But there was something... Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?

She clutched her can of soda for courage and decided to go with it. “Wouldn’t that cramp your style?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your trips to Seattle. When you go to...” She made air quotes. “A Mariners game.”

He put down his can, then picked it up again. “I do go to games. I like baseball.”

“Uh-huh. No one is fooled. You go in for a long weekend to see a game, but sometimes the Mariners aren’t even in town. There’s a woman. Or women. I’m not sure.”

Nor did she want to be talking about this, only it was going to be hard to change the subject now. Plus, she couldn’t help thinking that if they could get into something slightly more personal he might see her as more than just a buddy.

“What do you mean everybody knows?”

“It’s understood,” she said. “I don’t talk about it with your daughter, if that’s what you’re asking, but she’s a bright girl.” She met his wary gaze. “It’s not a bad thing, Jeff. You’ve been divorced a long time. It’s nice that you have someone.”

No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t nice at all. It ate her up inside. It made her want to scream and beg and wish she had the courage to say “What about me?”

Jeff swore under his breath. “I didn’t think anyone knew.” He swore again. “It’s not like however you’re thinking. It’s just sometimes a man—”

Had needs? Because she could help with that. But before she could figure out how to offer, Isaak joined them.

“This is going to take a while. Are you two willing to come back in a couple of hours or do you want to call it a night?”

Jeff glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly six.

“Buy you a burger?” he asked Helen.

“That would be great. Thanks.”

Jeff returned his attention to Isaak. “We’ll be across the street.”

“Great. I’ll come get you there.”

Jeff locked his guitar in his truck before they headed across the highway to the Tulip Burger restaurant. While Helen didn’t mind that their town was all things tulip, she felt the new owners of Tulip Burger had taken things too far. There were stencils on the wall, a tulip-shaped blackboard with specials and tulip-printed napkins. Cute, but not necessary. Tourists already knew where they were—there was no reason to drill home the point.

They took a seat at a booth in the back. Helen knew better than to read too much into the dinner invitation. New band disagreements were frequent, which meant she and Jeff often had time to kill between sessions. What she didn’t know was whether or not she wanted to return to the previous topic. While it might help get her closer to her goal of being his love slave, there was also the risk of him saying something like, “I will only ever see you as my friend.”

Helen stared at the menu. They had a really nice grilled chicken salad. If she asked for dressing on the side, she would have made it nearly twelve hours on her new low-carb, low-fat diet and wouldn’t that be special.

“Want to split the bacon cheeseburger?” Jeff asked.

Because while the decorations might be tacky, the food was amazing and the bacon cheeseburgers were huge and delicious and, well, damn.

Helen’s stomach grumbled, which she took as a vote of “yes, please.” Oh, why did she have to be weak? Or fat?

“Sure,” she murmured, then waited for the wave of guilt.

Their server came over. Jeff ordered for them, asking for extra fries and suggesting a chocolate milk shake. In deference to the now broken diet, she said she would just have water.

“We’re getting Christmas orders,” Jeff said when their server had left. “It’s June. What are they thinking, waiting so long? We have to grow the tulips from bulbs, which we have to order. It’s not like we can put on an extra shift in the factory.”

“Maybe if you put up inspirational posters they’d grow faster.”

“Are you sassing me?”

“Actually I believe I was sassing the tulips.” She sipped her water. “I get that you’re growing flowers, but it’s still strange to me that flower distributors have to order flowers so far in advance. The most I have to do is make sure my food orders are done two weeks out. What if the bulbs don’t work?”

“They’ll be fine.”

“Still, it seems risky. You put a bulb in the ground and expect there to be a flower. You even know exactly which one it is. That’s a lot of trust.”

“It’s farming, Helen. Don’t make it into magic.”

“I think there’s an element of magic. I mean, come on. Eggplants. Who saw that coming?”

* * *

A burger and more fries than Weight Watchers would approve of later, Helen pushed her plate away. The chef had tossed a little avocado on their burger, taking it from delicious to heavenly. She would, she swore, start her diet tomorrow. Again.

Jeff moved his glass of iced tea in a circle on the table. He looked at her, down at his drink, then back at her.

“Before you were asking me about the women I sleep with.”

Had Helen been drinking, she would have choked. As it was, she tried not to flinch and still had to clear her throat before speaking.

“That’s one way of putting it,” she murmured. “I was just wondering about, you know...”

“Not really.”

She tried desperately to think up something to say. If she wasn’t desperately in love with him, what would she want to know?

“How do you do it?” she asked, then held up a hand. “The logistics of finding someone. I know how to have sex.”

He smiled. “I would hope so.”

“It’s the other stuff.”

“Why are you asking?”

Because I want you desperately and I’m hoping you’ll make the jump from friends to more than friends, pull me close and ravish me with a fiery passion. She glanced around the diner. Okay, maybe you’ll just suggest we go back to my place.

“Helen? Why are you asking?”

“I’ve been divorced for years and I need to do something.”

“You don’t want to date anyone in town?”

“Um, well, that’s hard to say. There aren’t a lot of single guys. Sven is Kelly’s ex, so that would never work. Griffith is into Kelly, so again, a problem. Now that I think about it, your daughter is creating trouble in my personal life.”

“You want to date Sven and Griffith?”

“No, but blaming Kelly means it’s not my fault.”

“I respect that. There’s Ryan.”

Helen wrinkled her nose. “Thanks, but no. He’s flaky and not my type.”

“Plus he’s too young for you.”

She glared at him. “Excuse me? He’s what, five years younger than me? That’s a perfectly acceptable age gap.” Jeez, if Jeff didn’t think five years was okay, what was he going to say about their sixteen-year difference?

“You’re an old soul. Ryan isn’t.”

“That’s amazingly similar to calling me old.”

“You know I didn’t mean that. You’re on a tear tonight.”

“Not really. Just sassing you.”

“You said it was the tulips.”

She grinned. “I lied.”

“You don’t have to sound so cheerful about it.”

“Why not? I’m a cheerful person. Now about your women... How does it happen? Do you go to bars? Is there a website? And why haven’t you ever brought someone home? Don’t you want to get married again? I know things with Marilee weren’t great, but it’s been forever. You’re still a relatively young man. Don’t you ever want more? Someone to care about you and be a part of your life?”

His steady gaze warned her that she might have gone too far with that last bit, but she figured Jeff would chalk it up to enthusiasm rather than a plea for attention.

“Helen,” he began, then stopped. His tense expression relaxed.

She turned and saw Isaak walking toward them.

“Timing bites,” she muttered.

“Depends on how you look at it.”

“You would say that.”

Isaak slid in next to her and reached for a fry. “We have made our musical selections.”

“Great.” Jeff was already standing. “Can’t wait to hear what they are.”

“Someone’s enthused.”

Isaak grabbed two more fries, then rose. Helen followed, then moved close to Jeff.

“Chick, chick, chicken,” she chanted softly.

“You know it.”

* * *

Kelly spun back and forth on the stool at the counter. Helen stood at the cash register, making change for her last customer of the day. It was a little after two and the diner was quiet. The kitchen staff had cleaned up and gone for the day.

Helen walked Mrs. Pritchard to the door and held it open, then closed and locked it. She turned to Kelly.

“You could have texted me or something. I can’t believe you confronted Griffith and waited all this time to tell me.”

“It’s been less than two days.”

Helen put her hands on her hips. “That’s like eight years in best-friend time. Are you mad at me or something?”

The question was more teasing than serious. Helen always had a dramatic flair. She was so alive and present in her life. Not in a scary way, like Kelly’s mother or sister, but from a place of positive energy. Being around Helen always made Kelly feel better about everything.

“I’m not mad and you know it. I just needed to process.”

“Let me grab us drinks, then you’re going to tell me everything. You’ll start with you said hi and he said hi and go from there. Remember, no detail is too small.”

“I promise you will hear them all.”

Kelly moved to a booth. Helen got herself a diet soda at the dispenser, then made Kelly an Arnold Palmer and carried both to the booth.

Her dark blue Parrot Café shirt brought out the deep blue of her eyes while her black jeans emphasized her curvy hips. Her long black hair was pulled back in a French braid. She was sexy and voluptuous and by comparison, Kelly felt practically two dimensional.

Helen rested her elbows on the table. “Start talking.”

Kelly drew in a breath before exhaling slowly. “I went to see Griffith, which was, by the way, your suggestion.”

“Yes, I’m the brilliant friend. Go on.”

“He said...” She still had trouble wrapping her mind around what he’d said, let alone repeating it. “He wants us to get to know each other with the idea of entering into a long-term relationship. But he doesn’t want to fall in love or get married. So we’d be friends having sex in a committed way.” She sipped her drink. “Committed to each other, not the sex.”

“You don’t actually know that,” Helen said, before leaning back. “He really said all that? Just blurted it out?”

“He didn’t blurt as much as explain. He’s not interested in getting married again and he’s not a one-night-stand kind of guy. He wants a long-term monogamous relationship. With me.”

“Of course with you. You’re amazing. He’d be an idiot to pick anyone else, but jeez. Nobody just says that.”

“I know.”

“It’s interesting.”

Kelly could have come up with about twenty-seven other words. “Interesting? How?”

“It’s kind of your thing. You were with Sven for five years and you never once thought of taking things further.” Helen stared at her intently. “You never did think of it, did you? Because I asked all the time and you kept saying you didn’t want to marry him.”

“I didn’t, I swear. He was great and all, it’s just, I wonder if maybe I wasn’t exactly in love with him.” A thought that had haunted her since the breakup. They’d been together five years. Shouldn’t she have been crushed when he ended things?

“Not everyone has to fall in love and get married. People have wonderfully happy relationships without going that route. And some of us who do get married choose incredibly badly and end up divorced.” She smiled. “What did you say?”

“That I would think about it.”

“And?”

“It’s been less than forty-eight hours. I don’t know what to do or think or say.” She picked up her drink. “What do you think?”

“What went wrong with Sven? Why wasn’t he the one?”

Kelly blinked at the question. She’d thought they would be discussing the pros and cons of Griffith.

“I’m not sure. On paper we were the perfect couple. We have similar interests and all but there wasn’t any spark.” Sven had been way too into sex. “He liked to walk around naked. That didn’t make me comfortable.”

“Just randomly naked?”

“After sex.”

“Well, sure. He has the body for it. You couldn’t appreciate the show?”

“Not my style.” She shrugged. “He was nice and all but there wasn’t anything special between us. Not that Griffith is offering me magic, either.”

“Do you want magic? You’re always so careful when it comes to guys.”

An excellent point, Kelly thought. “I guess I want more than I had with Sven. I want to be intrigued and have fun.” All within the careful confines of being sensible. “I should tell Griffith no.”

“Why? Don’t say that. He might be exactly your style. Maybe he dresses after sex. Come on, don’t give up without trying. You need someone in your life.”

“Why? You don’t date.”

Helen reached for a napkin from the holder and began to wipe the table. “That’s different. I was devastated by the end of my marriage. Not because he broke my heart, but because I was an idiot to trust him the way I did. Griffith is a great guy. Aren’t you the least bit tempted?”

“Maybe a little.” More than a little, she thought. If she were being honest.

“Then at least continue the conversation. What have you got to lose?”

“You’re right.”

“My two favorite words ever.”

Kelly laughed. Maybe she should talk to Griffith again and figure out if he meant what he said. She supposed there was no harm in that. As for what had happened in high school—she couldn’t hold that against him forever. It didn’t speak well of her.

“Maybe it’s time for you to start dating, too,” she said. “Sven’s available.”

“Let me think about that.” Helen tilted her head. “No. Did I say no? No. He’s your ex. That would take us places neither of us wants to go.” She raised her voice. “And that little mole on his inner thigh. Isn’t it darling?” Her voice returned to its normal pitch. “I love you like a sister, but there are some things we simply aren’t meant to share. Although I could totally get into Sven being naked. When it gets hot and he takes his shirt off...” She sighed. “You could bounce a quarter off his stomach.”

“I never tried.”

Helen pointed at her. “See, if you’d been in love with him, I’m sure you would have tried. It’s a sign. Go take advantage of Griffith, then tell me all about it. I want to live vicariously through your exciting life.”

“It’s not exciting yet.”

“That is just a detail.”

5

Kelly left the diner and drove back to work. She passed the acres of tulip farmland long before she reached the main offices. Only a few weeks before, the blooming flowers had been a sea of color. After the harvest, there was nothing left but dark soil and the promise of flowers next spring.

It was a ridiculous waste of land, she thought as she turned into the driveway. Not only was the crop uneatable, the ground lay fallow nearly nine months out of the year. Still, the Murphys had grown tulips for five generations. The flowers were in her blood, so to speak, and she had no interest in doing anything else.

She pulled into the parking lot and saw Griffith’s truck in the spot next to the one she generally used. The man himself leaned against the driver’s door. As she pulled to a stop, he straightened and walked around to greet her.

In the few seconds it took him to make the trip, she found herself feeling oddly flustered and out of breath. Did he expect her to make a decision right that second? She needed time to know what on earth she was going to do.

He pulled open her door and smiled. “Kelly.”

“Griffith.”

“You had an overnight package.” He held out a small box. “It was delivered to me by mistake. I thought it might be important.”

She stared into his brown eyes and found herself oddly unable to speak. What on earth? No. No way. She might be interested in dating Griffith and possibly sleeping with him, but there was no way she was going to fall for him. That would be the complete definition of stupid.

She took the box from him and recognized the mailing label and return address. Her nerves immediately calmed and her throat unconstricted.

“I have no idea how this got to you, but thank you for dropping it by.”

“It’s important?”

She smiled. “It is to me, but I doubt you’d agree.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

He stepped back so she could get out of the truck, then he followed her into the building.

The farm offices were in front of one of the largest greenhouses. They were basic at best, with only a half-dozen offices and a small waiting area. The real work was done elsewhere. At least Kelly’s was. Her dad handled sales and scheduled deliveries, so he spent plenty of time in his office, while she did her best to always be out in one of the greenhouses or in the fields.

They didn’t employ a receptionist, nor did they have a company phone system. If someone needed her, they called her cell phone. The same with her dad. Most of their orders were done online. Only special orders or panicked begging happened on the phone.

She dropped her battered, woven handbag on the counter and reached for a pair of scissors sticking up from a juice can of pencils. She slit the tape on the box and opened it.

Inside lay a half-dozen bulbs. They were on the small side and nestled in cotton. There was nothing special about them, nothing to indicate what they would be. A card had been taped to the inside of the box: 8756-43.

“That’s a letdown,” Griffith told her.

“For you. I’m all aquiver.”

“Seriously? Over bulbs?”

“Not just any bulbs, Griffith. These are special. A hybrid or maybe a new color or shape.”

“You don’t know?”

She showed him the card. “That’s as much information as I have.” She picked up the box and nodded toward the back of the office. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

She led him through to the big wooden door in the rear, then out along a gravel path. When they reached the smallest of the greenhouses, the one that was hers alone, they went inside.

The temperature was warmer, the air thicker and more humid. The scent of plants and life and water filled every breath. There were tables lined with square trays and in each tray were rows of bulbs.

“In the main greenhouses, each of these can hold up to a hundred and fifty bulbs,” she said. “We only have a single level of planting here, but there are farms where they have tall buildings with roofs that open and close and machines that raise and lower pallets of plants.”

“Somebody has greenhouse envy.”

“You know it.” She motioned to the various trays. “These are all experimental tulips. Different horticulturists develop them, then send them to me to grow them. I keep track of everything that happens to them—from how much water, to the nutrients used, to the amount of light and ambient temperature. I document the life cycle and report back my findings.”

He pointed to the box she held. “What is that going to be?”

“I have no idea.”

“They don’t tell you?”

“No.” She laughed. “That’s part of the fun. I haven’t got a clue. It’s like unwrapping a present.”

“Only it takes a couple of months to get to the good part.”

“That’s okay.” She touched the bulbs. “They email me basic instructions, letting me know how long they think I should refrigerate the bulb before bringing it out to root, but that’s it.”

“You refrigerate the bulbs?”

“They have to think it’s winter before they can think it’s spring.”

They left the greenhouse and walked into one of the barns. There were huge cooling rooms filled with thousands and thousands of bulbs.

“Holy crap,” he said as he looked around. “You’re going to grow all these?”

“In less than a year. I have a computer inventory program that helps me track when the bulbs are put into cold storage and when they’ll be ready to come out. Depending on the type of bulb, I know how long for them to root and from then, how long until they flower. We work backward to fill our orders. Some of the tulips—the kind you can get at any grocery store or florist year-round—are always in production. We vary the volume based on the season.”

She pointed to labeled boxes of bulbs. “Those are red and white tulips for the holidays.”

“Now you’re messing with me.”

She laughed. “I swear. Come back in five months and I’ll prove it.”

She put the new bulbs from the box into a square dish on a shelf by the door. After writing down the date on the card, she tucked it next to the dish. They walked back outside.

“Impressive,” he told her.

“It’s not housing for the homeless, but I like to think my flowers will make someone happy.”

“They will.”

They stood facing each other. There was a confidence about him, as if he knew his place in the world and was happy about it. Sven was plenty confident, too, so that couldn’t be what made Griffith feel different.

“I’m sorry about what happened in high school,” he said quietly.

The words were so at odds with what she’d been thinking that at first she had no idea what he was talking about. When she managed to find context and remembered that horrible day, she flushed and wanted to run away. Instead she forced herself to stay where she was. Her chin came up.

“All right.”

He looked at her. “I panicked. I knew your mom was in her room with Coach and I was pretty sure I knew what they were doing. I didn’t want you to walk in on that.”

Because her mother had been having an affair with the football coach, along with countless other men. Everyone had pretended not to know, all the while being acutely aware of what was happening—Kelly most of all.

As a teacher at the high school, Marilee had had a permanent classroom. One where the door was often locked at lunch. Kelly hadn’t even been thinking as she’d approached. She’d been too distracted by seeing Griffith with his friends.

“I was stupid to say what I did,” he continued. “I know it was a long time ago, and this is late, but I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“You couldn’t just ask me a question about homework? You had to announce you weren’t the least bit interested in me?”

“I totally blanked, which is the truth, not an excuse.”

She liked that he continued to hold her gaze, as if he wanted her to know he meant what he was saying. And the apology was nice, too. Yes, very late, but still.

“I was humiliated,” she admitted. “Then my mom left and everything changed at home and what you’d said didn’t seem that important.”

Her mom hadn’t just left, Kelly thought grimly. They’d fought. She still remembered the anger between them.

“Why can’t you just be like everyone else?” Kelly had demanded of her mother. “Why do you have to be this way? You’re so selfish. You have a family. You’re supposed to take care of us.”

What she’d really meant was that her mother was supposed to take care of her, but she hadn’t been able to say that.

“I’m not like other mothers. Someday you’ll understand.”

“I won’t. I hate you. If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you just leave?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes. Go away. You’re horrible. We won’t miss you at all.”

Marilee’s green eyes had darkened with an emotion Kelly couldn’t understand. “Be careful, darling. Wishes like that can be dangerous.”

The fight had ended then. Kelly had cried herself to sleep—an embarrassing truth for a fifteen-year-old. She told herself it was wrong to hate her mother, to wish her gone, but she couldn’t seem to think any other way. The next day, Marilee had left Tulpen Crossing forever.

That was when everything had changed for all of them. Without Marilee, the dynamics had shifted. They’d all been in pain and reacting. Looking back, Kelly wondered if she hadn’t just lost her mother that day—if she had lost her sister, as well.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” Griffith said. “I know it was tough for you and your sister.”

Olivia had suffered far more than Kelly. While Kelly had wrestled with guilt, she’d still had her dad, and the relative peace that had followed. But Olivia had always been their mother’s favorite. With Marilee gone, she was alone. Jeff’s awkward attempts to fill the void had not been enough.

Kelly knew she should have stepped in, should have done more. Why hadn’t she? A question that still had no answer.

“What I said didn’t help,” he added.

“It’s okay,” Kelly told him. “I appreciate the apology.” She managed a slight smile. “I guess based on our previous conversation, I should assume you’re over your distaste.”