Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

Kelly went by the Chinese place because there weren’t a lot of take-out choices in Tulpen Crossing. She ordered small amounts of several entrees, along with fried rice and egg rolls, then drove over to Griffith’s place.

As she got closer, she felt more and more nervous. Were the clothes too much? The hair? She didn’t want him to think she was trying too hard, only even as she thought that statement, she realized the ridiculousness of it. They were supposed to be a couple. Having him think she liked him was hardly bad.

She parked and walked to the porch. The front door opened as she approached and then Griffith was moving toward her. He took the large bag of food from her, leaned in and kissed her.

She felt the impact of his mouth on hers all the way down to her toes. The kiss was light, but he lingered and she started to get a little breathless.

“Hi,” he said as he drew back. “You look beautiful. Thank you for coming over.”

“Thanks for asking me.”

They went inside. He’d set two places at the table in the dining room and had a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket. Music played from hidden speakers.

“Ryan’s out,” he said as he set the food on the table. “We’re currently not speaking so I don’t expect him home for a few days.”

“What are you fighting about? Or would you rather not say?”

“The usual. He rarely shows up to work on time, doesn’t put in his hours, but is shocked when I dock his pay. His attitude is rubbing off on the team. I told him he’s got to get his act together and he told me that I’m an asshole. Brother stuff.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too, but it is what it is. I hope he figures it out.” He poured her a glass of wine. “And now we’re going to talk about something more pleasant. How are you?”

“Good. Busy. We just planted a hundred thousand bulbs for the late summer wedding season.”

They sat across from each other and began passing cartons back and forth.

“Your hundred thousand tulips put my production schedule to shame. Wedding flowers based on the Pantone colors of the year?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“You remembered.”

“I remember nearly everything about you.”

She ducked her head. “Yes, well, I based my planting on my orders. A lot of pinks and peaches, some reds. Late summer weddings tend to have more color in them. I have no idea why. Christmas is a lot of red and white, of course, and don’t get me started on Valentine’s Day.”

He picked up his wineglass. “That’s February fourteenth, so you’d have to ship what, by the seventh?”

“Depending on how far the flowers are going, no later than the eleventh.”

“So you’re planting mid-January and getting the bulbs in to root in late December.”

“Someone’s been doing online research,” she said as she picked up an egg roll.

“A little. You spent a whole Saturday learning about what I do. I wanted to return the favor.”

Which was very fair and so like Griffith. “You should come by when we’re harvesting,” she told him. “It’s pretty insane, but also interesting. At least I think so. Shipping out a hundred thousand blooms in two days might not be everyone’s idea of fun.”

“I’ll be there,” he told her. “Have you been to Holland?”

She laughed. “No, and I want to go, of course. Can you imagine seeing how they grow tulips there? I’ve seen a bunch of YouTube videos. Some of the mechanization is incredible.”

“You’d have farm equipment envy.”

“On a huge scale.”

“We should look at taking a trip.”

The casual statement nearly made her choke. Her mind went blank before being filled with a thousand questions. They’d barely kissed—how on earth could they travel together? When would they go, and she’d never really been away with a man. She and Sven had spent a weekend together in Portland once, but that was it.

“Why would you want to go to Holland?” she asked, because it seemed the safest and most reasonable of questions.

“To look at architecture. They’re doing interesting work with micro housing in Europe.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting and if things work out I’d like to go with you, or oh, what on earth are you talking about, Griffith? Everything about you annoys me?”

Some of her tension eased. “That’s a broad range.”

“I believe in options.”

“I think it’s an intriguing idea.”

“Good.” He studied her. “I want to clarify the ground rules. About us and how things are going to go.”

The man was nothing if not thorough, she thought humorously. “We’ve been over them already and this is the strangest relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Strange good or strange bad?”

She laughed. “Strange good.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He cleared his throat. “We’re getting to know each other with the idea of a long-term connection that will not end in marriage or even love. Just like and mutual respect.”

She wanted to ask if he really thought he could control his feelings that much. To her, emotions could be so volatile. However, Griffith might feel safe in his statement because he knew there was no way he would fall in love with her, which was wildly depressing and not a place she wanted to go.

Not getting married seemed okay. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to risk that. Her parents’ marriage had been a disaster from the beginning. Helen’s marriage had ended painfully. She didn’t mind giving up marriage. She was less sure about children. She’d always sort of thought she would have kids, although the idea had been vague at best. Sort of an unformed “one day” scenario.

But love... She had to admit the love thing had her stymied. She didn’t want the scary passion her mother had experienced. The swing of emotions that left destruction in its wake. But love was different. She believed in love. The good kind. Friendship and a parent’s love for a child. She knew her dad had always loved her and she loved him. She loved Helen and...

She frowned. Was that it? Her dad and her best friend? Shouldn’t she love more people? And what about her sister? Did she love Olivia? The more she got to know her, the more she respected and liked her. Was there a family thing, where she had to love her sister? If so, that was different than choosing to care.

“Kelly? You still with me?”

“Sorry. I was thinking.”

“I can tell. Want to tell me what about?”

She looked at him. Griffith was nice-looking and funny and she enjoyed being around him. She wasn’t super excited about the sex but that was more her than him and maybe it would be better than her past experiences. As for the rest of it...

“I’m fine with the no marriage clause,” she told him. “With getting to know you and having this potentially be a long-term thing. I think you’re fooling yourself if you think you can control falling in love. I believe it just happens, which can be both good and bad.”

“I don’t want to fall in love with anyone.”

Which was a less harsh way of saying he didn’t want to fall in love with her. Words that could have hurt, only she respected the honesty of them. While she liked the theory of love, she’d yet to let herself experience it. Something else she could blame on her mother.