Secrets of the Tulip Sisters

“She’s your mother. I’m not going to turn her away.”

“Don’t keep her on my account. I think this whole thing is ridiculous. You’re never mad at her.”

“How would that help?”

Most of the time Kelly was grateful her father was a calm, sensible kind of guy but every now and then she found him difficult.

“Dad, helping isn’t the point. You’re too nice when it comes to her.” She held up her hand. “Please don’t say it’s because she’s my mother. I’m incredibly aware of that fact.”

His dark gaze settled on her face. “I worry about you.”

“What? I’m fine.”

“Are you? It’s been thirteen years and you’re still furious with her.”

Apparently it was that obvious, Kelly thought, not totally surprised.

“I have reason to be. What kind of mother walks out on her two children? Did you notice that Olivia is the one who found Mom, not the other way around? Marilee doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She never has. She’s going to do whatever she wants and the consequences be damned. She doesn’t care about who she hurts, but you won’t say any of that, will you? You don’t want to speak ill of her in front of me. Well, here’s my news flash, Dad. I’m all grown up. I can take it.”

“Old habits die hard.”

“Just once I’d like you to admit she’s a horrible person.”

“That’s not going to happen, but while we’re on the subject of things we want in life...”

She waited, fairly confident she wasn’t going to like whatever he was going to say. “Yes?”

“I’d like you to think about why you’re so angry with her. It’s been a long time. You should have moved on.” He lifted his mug. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Kelly, just that you should know why. Do you need closure? If you’re waiting for an apology, it’s not going to happen. She is who she is.”

Good advice she didn’t want to take. “I don’t hate her.”

“That’s something.” He sipped his coffee. “You’re the one I worry about. She messed up your childhood. Don’t let her mess up any more than that. I want you to be happy.”

“I am.”

He didn’t say anything, but then he didn’t have to. They knew each other well enough for her to figure out he didn’t believe that. Not when it came to Marilee.

“I’ll think about it,” she grumbled.

“Thank you.”

Before she could respond, she heard footsteps in the hall. As she hadn’t heard the front door open, she had to brace herself for an early-morning appearance from their houseguest.

“Morning,” Marilee said breezily as she walked into the kitchen. “Mmm, coffee. How wonderful.”

Kelly stared at her mother. Marilee had obviously done her hair and put on makeup before emerging from her bedroom. But what got Kelly’s attention the most was what she was wearing. A man’s pajama top. Just the top.

The pale blue fabric covered in small tractors fell to mid-thigh. The shoulder seams were halfway down her upper arm. She looked adorable. Sexy, even.

Kelly’s stomach sank. She looked at her father, who didn’t seem the least bit shocked by his ex-wife’s appearance. This despite the fact that Marilee was wearing his pajama top. Kelly knew that for sure because she’d bought the tractor-print pj’s as a joke at Christmas.

What was her mother doing wearing them? Were they sleeping together?

The possibility of her parents having sex was bad enough but that it might lead to them getting back together made her feel sick. Breakfast sat very heavily and for a second she didn’t know if she was going to throw up or cry.

She loved her dad and knew he’d been alone for a long time. He deserved someone special—someone who would care about him and be good to him. Someone normal and honest and faithful. Someone who wasn’t Marilee.

“I need to get to work,” Kelly said, coming to her feet.

“Oh, no,” Marilee chirped. “Can you stay so we can talk?”

“Um, no. I’m late for a meeting.”

“With whom? Your tulips?”

Her mother laughed at her own joke. Kelly dumped her coffee in the sink and bolted. She was halfway to the farm before her stomach calmed down, which left only tears, and those she would fight until the need passed.

*

Luck was on Kelly’s side. When she arrived at the farm, she found that one of the greenhouse irrigation systems had clogged. Finding the problem and cleaning out the hosing had taken the better part of two hours. By then she was more herself and able to ignore whatever was happening between her parents. She had work, she reminded herself. The rest of it would take care of itself.

She went back to her office and cleared her email, then went into her private greenhouse to check on the progress of her test bulbs.

Two buds had appeared in the night. She took the small pots over to the desk by the door and booted the laptop there. She pulled a camera out of a desk drawer and took several pictures, then emailed them to herself to be included in her report.

The tight bud was brownish pink on the bottom, fading to pinkish mud-taupe on the top. She could see the individual petals were going to be very slim and pointed in an almost star pattern, but they looked to be different lengths, which could be a deliberate part of the design or an area of yet more concern.

After measuring the plant, she double-checked how long it had been in the greenhouse, then sat down to write her report.

The door opened and Griffith walked in. That was nearly as much of a surprise as the huge vase of flowers he was carrying. No, not flowers. Red roses.

She rose. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

“Bringing you these.” He held out the roses. “It occurred to me that guys probably don’t bring you flowers. What with you growing tulips and all.”

He looked both proud and slightly apprehensive, as if he weren’t sure of her reaction.

She smiled, then started to laugh. Big, beautiful red roses. It was crazy and yet really, really nice.

“You’re right. No one’s ever brought me flowers before,” she admitted. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He set them on the desk, then frowned at the tulip. “What is that? It’s really ugly.”

“You can’t know that. It’s barely a bud.”

“The colors. What is that called? Muddy pink?”

She looked at the flower and sighed. “Sometimes the experiments don’t work out. I’m not sure what the gradation was supposed to be but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t this.”

She touched one of the rose petals. They were perfectly shaped and deep red. The scent drifted to her. She turned to Griffith and put her hands on his shoulders.

“You’re the sweetest man.”

“I’m pretty great, huh? You’re lucky to have me.”

She laughed and pressed her mouth to his. His arms came around her. Just as she was settling in to the thrill of being held, she felt a strange burning in her eyes. In the second it took the feeling to register, her brain to process and the rest of her to say “This is so not happening,” it was too late. Tears fell and at the same time an ugly, primal sob worked its way out of her chest.