One corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s telling me.”
“I didn’t have a choice. You were turning into a girl.”
He chuckled. “You always surprise me, Helen. And I mean that in a good way. You’re smart, you’re determined, you speak your mind. When your ex cheated on you, you booted him out on his ass. I admire that. I should have done the same thing with Marilee. Instead I put up with her ways for years. What lesson did that teach my girls?”
“At least you got married for a fairly noble reason.”
“Because I knocked her up?”
“You know what I mean. You did the right thing. I can’t even say I did that.”
“Why did you marry Troy?” He held up a hand. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. You were in love with him.”
She stared into Jeff’s brown eyes and knew she had to come clean. If not for him, then for herself. To say the truth aloud meant it wouldn’t have power over her anymore.
“He was the first person to say he loved me after my parents died. No one else ever had. I’m sure my aunt and uncle cared about me, but they weren’t the type to say the words.”
“Helen.”
His tone was gentle and caring. For a second she thought he was going to reach for her, but there was only the single word. Alas.
“They weren’t bad people,” she continued. “But it made me sad, so when he said he loved me, I married him.” She grimaced. “And then he cheated, so I threw him out.” She held up a hand. “I take that back. The first time, I gave him a chance. The second time, I threw him out.”
“Admirable.”
Before she could say anything else, the front door opened and a couple of customers walked in. Helen felt the tenuous connection between her and Jeff snap as she rose to greet them.
Customers were seated, orders taken. She poured coffee and chatted and before she knew it, Jeff was waving goodbye. She gave him a quick smile as she went to pick up several breakfasts.
The work was familiar, she thought, and all she’d known for years. Funny how she hadn’t planned to stay in Tulpen Crossing. She’d saved like crazy for college, thinking she would get her degree and leave town. She’d been considering nursing—the kind of skill that meant she could get a job anywhere and always support herself. Because that was important. Her parents had died broke, leaving her little more than memories and a piano. Her aunt and uncle had made it clear that once she turned eighteen she was on her own. If she wanted to continue to work at the diner, then she could still live with them. Otherwise, she was expected to leave.
She’d chosen the most sensible path—working full-time at the diner and taking classes at Skagit Valley College, all the while saving every penny she could for when she transferred to a four-year college. She’d met Troy her second quarter. They’d started dating and somehow she hadn’t had the time for her third quarter. An embarrassing truth, but there it was.
Instead she’d told herself she was in love and had accepted his proposal. They’d moved in together, had a small wedding and life had gone on with her working at the diner. Dreams of leaving town had been put on hold. After the divorce, she’d been too hurt and embarrassed to do much more than get through her day. And just when she’d been thinking of going back to college, her uncle had suffered his first stroke.
While he’d recovered from that, his second stroke had left him much more debilitated. Her aunt had offered to sell her the diner at a reasonable price. Helen had spent two weeks considering her options before coming to the realization that she had nowhere else to go. No family, no connections. Everyone she knew in the world lived in Tulpen Crossing. Ironically, Troy had left town after the divorce.
So she’d made the decision to stay. To buy the diner and make her life here. She’d taken up playing the piano again and through that had started working with JML, and had fallen for her best friend’s father. And here she was, all these years later, still in love with him.
She wasn’t sure if that made her slightly foolish or mortally idiotic, because to date she had no evidence that Jeff saw her as other than a friend.
Which left her with only two options—get over him or take a chance and be willing to live with the consequences. Because if he turned her down, well, then she would have nothing at all.
* * *
Kelly couldn’t remember ever having a hangover. She wasn’t one to get drunk very often, or ever. She enjoyed the occasional cocktail or glass of wine, but she was fairly confident she’d never downed half a bottle of vodka before.
Most of the details of the concert were hazy. She knew she’d hung out with Griffith and had said some fairly unfortunate things. What exactly wasn’t clear, although she did have a humiliating recollection of complaining that Olivia had boobs and she didn’t.
Somewhere around 2:00 a.m. she’d gotten up to drink more water and had promptly thrown up in the kitchen sink. That had been attractive. She’d stayed up, sipping water until nearly four when it had seemed safe for her to go back to bed. She’d slept until six thirty.
One shower later, she was feeling almost human. The pounding in her head was pretty awful but wouldn’t be fixed until she could down an aspirin—something that couldn’t happen until she ate. The thought of food was enough to make her want to kill herself, only she didn’t think she had a choice.
She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, then ran a comb through her wet hair. Maybe dry toast, she thought. Or a banana. She thought she’d read somewhere that a banana was good for a hangover because of the potassium.
She stumbled to the kitchen and put a slice of bread in the toaster. Her father, a great, great man, who had warned her she was going to feel awful this morning, had started coffee before he’d left for the diner. She poured herself a cup and did her best not to notice how her hands shook.
The first sip had her system relaxing just a bit. When the toast popped, she grabbed it and took a bite. Her stomach was silent.
Kelly offered a prayer of thanksgiving before finishing the slice and her coffee. Only then did she down an aspirin and start to believe that yes, she was going to be all right. Except for what she might or might not have said to Griffith.
She also had to deal with her truck. She’d left it at the craft mall. When her dad got home, she would ask him to drive her out there. Yet one more check mark in the embarrassing column.
“Good morning.”
The happy, loud voice made her wince. She turned and saw Olivia walking into the kitchen. Her sister also wore jeans, but aside from the basic concept, they were nothing like Kelly’s. The denim was darker and the fit tighter. Olivia’s jeans were long, coming to the heel of her stylish boots. A purple sweater with a deep V exposed just enough cleavage to remind Kelly of her shortcomings.
Olivia’s hair was still all wavy, beachy, and she had on the kind of makeup that emphasized her perfect features. It was annoying and intimidating and made Kelly want to throw coffee in her pretty face.
“Morning,” she mumbled instead, when what she really wanted to ask was “Is everything you own either pretty or beautiful?” There was no point as she already knew the answer. Not that cute, stylish clothes were practical. Kelly was a farmer, after all. She would spend her day grubbing and hauling, but jeez, it was so depressing. And unfair.
Still, she wouldn’t say any of that to her sister. To be honest, none of what Kelly was thinking was Olivia’s fault, which made her feel guilty, so she said, “Are you getting settled?”
“I am. It’s strange being back.”
“I would imagine. Did you have fun last night with your friends?”
Olivia hesitated. “It was great. How was the band?”
“Awful. They usually are. They had their own vocalist. She was okay, but my friend Helen is way better.”
Olivia poured herself a cup of coffee. �
��Are you going to the farm today?”
“I’d planned to, why?”
Olivia studied her for a second. “I thought maybe we could spend some time together. After all, we’re sisters and we barely know each other.”
Guilt flooded Kelly. Guilt because she’d been the one to suggest sending her sister away. Guilt because she’d never wanted to be friends with the person she saw as their mother incarnate.
“Some of the reason is that as I grew up, you were always mad at me,” Olivia went on. “I get it. I was a pain in the butt and you thought I was too much like Mom.”
Kelly felt her mouth fall open. She carefully closed it. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Say it! Tell her! The voice in her head was so loud and spoke in time with the pounding of her headache. This was the moment, she thought, to come clean and say that she had been the reason Olivia had been sent away. Only the words got stuck and wouldn’t move.
“We’ve always been different,” Olivia said.
“I know. I take after Dad and you...” Kelly sipped her coffee.
“I don’t take after Mom that much.” Olivia glanced away.
There was something about the way she said it—as if she knew one way or the other.
“Do you ever see her?” Kelly asked.
Olivia sipped her coffee. “Ah, sometimes. Not all that often.”
Wow—there was information. Once Marilee had taken off, Kelly had never wanted to spend time with her mother again. Of course she and her mom had a very different relationship than Olivia and Marilee.
“You and I were always on opposite sides,” Kelly said. “Me with Dad and you with Mom.”
“Soldiers in their war.”
“Is that how you saw it?” Kelly asked. “I never did. Dad didn’t fight.”
“He should have. Things would have been better if he’d stood up to her.”
“I know. I think he was trying to get along.” Not that she wanted to say anything bad about Jeff. He’d been a good dad—always there for her.
“I was asking about the farm before because I thought we could hang out together. After work.”
“That would be great,” Kelly said automatically, then wondered what on earth they were supposed to do together. She doubted she and Olivia had anything in common and it wasn’t as if there was a ton to do in Tulpen Crossing. Part of the reason they had trouble attracting tourists in the off-season.
“I have a tourism board meeting tonight,” she said. “We’re trying to update the local craft mall and figure out ways to get more tourists to come to town. Maybe you could help us brainstorm.”
She expected Olivia to roll her eyes at the suggestion. Instead her sister nodded eagerly.
“I’d like that a lot. I worked with a couple of charities in Phoenix. Maybe some of the things we did there will work here.”
Kelly didn’t know which was more surprising—her sister’s enthusiasm or the fact that she’d volunteered for something. Which wasn’t fair, she reminded herself. Olivia wasn’t a teenager anymore. She’d grown up, graduated college and had created a life of her own away from her family. Of course she was different.
“That would be really helpful.” Kelly smiled.
“I hope so. I’ll see you after work.”
“You will.”
Kelly poured coffee into a to-go mug and grabbed her bag. She opened the back door just in time to remember that she had no transportation, only to find her truck sitting where it was supposed to be. The keys were in the ignition and a bottle of aspirin was on the front seat with a note that said, Hope it’s not too bad this morning. G
Griffith had somehow arranged to return her truck to her. Talk about above and beyond, she thought happily. She might not be sure about what to do about her sister, but her decision about Griffith’s suggestion was getting more and more clear.
She slid into the driver’s seat, then reached for her purse when she heard her phone chirp. The text message was from Helen.
Your dad just left. Olivia’s back? Are you still in shock?
Yes. Shocked. Stunned and seriously hungover. Missed you last night.
I heard the band was awful. I didn’t miss hearing that. Need to talk?
I’m okay. I’ll fill you in on everything tonight. Oh, Olivia’s coming with me.
Why?
I honest to God have no idea.
8
Olivia tidied the kitchen after her sister left, not that there was much to do. Kelly had only eaten toast and coffee and Jeff had left her a note that during the week, he ate at a local diner. The scrawled PS offered to take her along, but the “I leave at 5:30” had her shuddering. Um, no thanks.
They all had lives, she thought as she poured her second cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. They had their routines, time had moved on. While she knew that in her head, she was still surprised. Part of her had expected life in Tulpen Crossing to be exactly as she had remembered it, with no one changing but her. How silly.
The back door opened and her dad walked in.
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Hi, Dad. How was breakfast?”
“Good, as always. Did you sleep well?”
“Uh-huh. The bed’s still comfortable.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
He poured himself a mug of coffee and smiled at her.
Her dad looked good—trim and fit, with only a few wrinkles around his eyes. While Marilee held back the hands of time with Botox and fillers, her dad could pass for a decade younger than his age all on his own. The product of great genes and clean living, she supposed.
“Kelly already gone?” he asked.
Olivia nodded.
He flashed a grin. “She got a little drunk last night, so I would guess she’s not feeling her best today.”
A hangover? “Does she get drunk a lot?” Kelly didn’t seem the type.
“Not usually. I brought her home. I was going to help her get her truck, but unless she walked to the farm, someone took care of that for her.”
“Her truck was here this morning.”
“What are you going to do with your day?” her dad asked.
“I thought I’d explore the town—see what’s changed. I’m excited that it’s not already ninety degrees.”
“How do you stand the heat?”
“You get used to it.” Although in the middle of summer, no one enjoyed 108 degrees with a low of 95.
“I’m glad to have you home.” Jeff kissed her cheek. “You let me know if you need anything.”
“I will, Dad. Thanks.”
There hadn’t been a lot of fanfare, but that was okay. Olivia trusted her father’s steady acceptance more than any parade. Marilee had been welcoming at first, but lately that had changed and Kelly had no idea why. Nor did she know why she’d lied about how much she saw her mother. Instinct, maybe. Being sent away had taught her that the only person she could trust was herself.
She rinsed her mug and set it in the sink, then went back to her room to check email. She’d been in touch with her clients before she left, but wanted to make sure they were all okay.
By ten she’d finished with email, had played three games of Solitaire and was wondering how on earth she was going to get through a whole summer with nothing to do. Her dad had long since left for work. Everyone had somewhere to be but her. She grabbed her bag and walked out to her car. The air was cool, the sky cloudy. She had a feeling it might actually rain. Up here that wasn’t anything but ordinary. If she stayed long enough maybe she would start to take the rain for granted, just like everyone else.
She drove to the end of the street, then merged onto the main road. The town had grown just enough to be slightly unfamiliar, a
s if it had somehow shifted out of focus. She saw a few new stores. The library had been refurbished. What had been an old grocery store was now a bowling alley and some kind of music school. She kept driving until she reached the edge of a huge field, then pulled to the side of the road.
For as far as the eye could see was flat, groomed earth. She wasn’t sure how many acres her family owned, but it was a lot. Murphy Tulips were sought after all over the country. They were known for quality blooms, delivered on time. The main crop was traditional tulips in a variety of colors, but the company also had a small but growing exotic collection. If you wanted Russian Princess tulips for a dinner party, Murphy Tulips was the one to call.
Even though she’d never been interested in the family business as a kid, she couldn’t help learning a few things by virtue of where she’d grown up. She knew that every fall bulbs were planted in the fields and come spring they would grow and blossom into beautiful flowers. Once they were harvested, the bulbs were dug up and sorted. Those deemed healthy and hearty could be reused, a process different from hothouse tulips.
Olivia pulled onto the road and drove back toward the highway and turned into what looked like a big antiques mall. They had a couple similar malls in Phoenix and she’d always found them a great place to shop for staging projects. She could often find unusual pieces at a great price.
She parked in front. Despite the fact that The Dutch Bunch had been open for a couple of hours, there was only one other car in the lot. That wasn’t good for business, she thought.
She walked inside and was immediately overwhelmed by several large, busy displays with too much information. There were notices about activities, posters for a couple of local hotels and restaurants and a corkboard covered with business cards. Flanking the disarray were mock room settings filled with ugly furniture and too many decorations in a tulip theme. There were tulip pictures and tulips slipcovers. Wooden tulips on a table covered in a tulip-print tablecloth. A tulip rug, tulip stenciled bassinette. Even someone who loved tulips would find it all overwhelming. No wonder there weren’t a lot of customers—Olivia imagined most of them had turned and run in terror.
Secrets of the Tulip Sisters Page 9
