Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

“I’d like that.”

She followed him into the warehouse. The sound of construction made conversation difficult. There were at least a half-dozen tiny homes in various stages of completion. She saw cabinets ready to be installed, three toilets lined up against a far wall and stacks of flooring. Big display boards had designs on them, along with lists of materials and notes about the finishes.

When they reached the back of the warehouse, they walked outside and she saw two nearly finished homes.

“We’re waiting on a refrigerator for that one,” he said, pointing to the one on the left. “It’s a special order. This one still needs the built-in furniture installed. It was a custom order and their guy is late.”

The houses were about the same size. She slipped off her shoes and walked barefoot through the first one.

“They’re both twelve by sixteen, with a loft,” Leo told her. “This first one is designed to be self-sufficient. The refrigerator can run off the solar panels or use ice.”

The finishes were rustic, as was the furniture.

“Reclaimed wood?” she asked, touching the kitchen table. “This looks like the side of a barn.”

Leo glanced at her. “You’re right. This guy wants everything eco-friendly. He has a flush toilet inside, and will be installing a septic toilet outdoors, along with an outdoor shower.”

“I hope he’s not moving to Minnesota,” she murmured. “That could be one chilly shower.”

There was a queen-size mattress in one loft and storage in the other. The shelves, bins and cabinets confused her.

“Did he say what he was storing?” she asked.

“Six months’ worth of food.”

“I want to ask why, but I won’t. If there’s an apocalypse, we all know where to get a sandwich.”

The second tiny home was nearly the exact same floor plan but the execution was totally different. The finishes were high end, the cabinets smooth and elegant. She saw complicated-looking electronics and built-in speakers. While there wasn’t any furniture, she could see where it was going to go.

“I never realized you could do so much in such a small space,” she told Leo. “I see the appeal of both styles. How on earth do people figure out what they want?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I would guess they show up with a detailed plan.”

“Some do. Some want us to help them make decisions. Griffith’s great on the design of the home but picking out furniture isn’t his thing.”

“Is it yours?” she asked, her voice teasing.

“I leave that to my wife.”

“A wise, wise man.”

“I’ve been married a long time and I’ve learned a thing or two.”

They walked back through the warehouse. She thanked him for the tour and got in her car. On the way to the craft mall, she thought about all the staging she’d done and how a few small details could make a room. Was that also possible in a tiny home? With space at a premium, you couldn’t toss around a few pillows and put out a lot of knickknacks. Still, a house, regardless of size, needed to feel homey.

Armed with a notebook and a camera, she walked around the craft mall and took pictures, then made notes. Some of the booths were well laid out but a few were awful and most could use help. She paused by the quilt display and felt her heart sink. Sally’s skill level was incredible, but no one could see it. And her prices were ridiculously low for the custom work she did. Not that anyone was asking Olivia, but still.

An hour later, she was home in front of her computer. She’d already uploaded the pictures and now carefully composed the first letter. She would start with Sally and see how that went. If the experience was positive, she would move on to other booth owners.

She glanced at her notes, then started her email. She explained how she admired Sally’s work, then pasted a picture to illustrate her point about the clutter. She made a few suggestions for making the quilts more visible in the display and offered to help prepare a book of pictures of her inventory, along with rearranging the booth. Before she lost her nerve, she hit Send.

Once it was gone, she opened her browser and typed in “decorating tiny homes.” Because you just never knew.

*

Kelly stared at the stack of boxes on the front porch. There were five and a couple of them were huge. Even more confusing, they were all addressed to her. She carried the first three inside, then went back for the other two. As she studied the return address labels, she realized these were the clothes Olivia had ordered for her. With Kelly’s credit card.

“Not exactly something I’m going to thank her for,” she muttered to herself. She should have stopped her when she was doing it. Now she was going to have to return everything. And hadn’t her sister signed her up for some kind of clothing delivery service? That would be a disaster. She worked on a farm—she didn’t need high fashion. Besides, she was hungry. She should fix some dinner first, then deal with the Olivia-created mess. Only the boxes seemed to call to her.

Grumbling under her breath, she opened the first box. Inside were two dresses, a couple of shirts and a pair of pants. The fabric looked nice enough, she supposed, but where would she wear dresses?

She took the box to her bedroom and stripped down to her bra and panties, then took the first dress out of the packaging. It was a simple sleeveless style that wasn’t much to look at. The white-and-purple pattern was interesting, but honestly, she wasn’t a dress person.

Except when she slipped it on, she could see how there was more pattern in the middle and less at the top and bottom, which gave her the illusion of an hourglass figure. In this dress she actually had hips and almost breasts.

She opened her closet and stared at herself in the full-length mirror. She had to admit the dress looked good. She took it off and tossed it on the bed, then reached for the next one.

The second dress was a soft moss green, also sleeveless, but more of a halter style. She had to take off her bra to keep the straps from showing, which made her feel both sexy and uncomfortable. When she put the dress on, she realized she wasn’t showing much more than an extra inch of shoulder and yet... She felt good.

“Dammit, Olivia, what did you do?”

There was plenty of time to find out, she thought with a grin. Her dad had texted to say he was having dinner with friends and would be home late. Her sister was who knew where.