Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

“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.”

“Since 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.”