The Bulb Hunter

4. Rain Lilies

CHA PT ER 4 Rain Lilies B y now you might have realized that much of my story is not just about the bulbs but about the people. Fast-forward several years into the business. Before I knew it, garden centers, clubs, and Master Gardener groups requested me to speak to their respective organizations. The Arbor Gate, one of those garden centers, holds a special place in my heart. Every spring and fall I speak at the Arbor Gate in Tomball, Texas. On each occasion, I see white spider lilies (Hymenocallis), A clump of pink rain lilies (Zephyranthes grandiflora) is welcome beauty in the middle of our hot summers. CLW rain lilies 67 a longtime resident of many old gardens and native settings in that area, blooming in the fields on my trip down from East Texas. The Arbor Gate has an open-air stage for presentations, and instead of my usual PowerPoint presentation, I talk for about forty-five minutes outside with only plants in hand. After one fall talk, an attractive girl who worked there boldly approached me and asked if I was dating anyone. A little shocked, I said no, and Amy asked if I would be interested in meeting her sister. A million doubts ran through my head in a split second, and I took the easy road out. I responded by saying the standard, “Thanks, honored, but not right now, I’m really busy.” A winter passed, and it was time for my presentation at the Arbor Gate in April. After my talk I went to the nursery break room, and there was Amy. Sitting down to enjoy the lunch prepared for me, I was content, happy with life, didn’t need a thing, and then my mouth opened and out of nowhere came, “Amy, why not?” I spouted, as if months hadn’t passed since our last conversation. She turned around and, with a sly grin turning into an all-out smile, drew out a long, “Really?” I replied, “Yes, really,” and smiled awkwardly. Through a series of conversations, delays, and other excuses for not meeting, Rebecca and I finally had a blind date set up in Huntsville, Texas, where she was living. Huntsville is a quaint college town that was for a time the home of Sam Houston and now is home to the university named after him, Sam Houston State University. It is also home to one of the most infamous prisons in the United States. Coming into Huntsville from the north, you will be invited to visit the prison museum, which is advertised by a big billboard showing a picture of an electric chair. Arriving from the south, you will be greeted by our famed former governor and president of the Republic of Texas, Sam Houston himself: a sixty-seven-foot, white concrete statue. I met Rebecca on a blind date at the Café Texan in downtown Huntsville. She was wearing blue jeans and a green floral top when I spotted her from my seat, through the greasy glass window of the restaurant, across the street at the corner of the courthouse lawn. She looked left, then right as she neared the road. It 68 chris wiesinger hit me that I wasn’t just stopping in for lunch; I was on a blind date, and this stunningly beautiful girl was coming straight to my table. Breathe, smile, look natural, swallow, arrange your silverware , breathe, fidget with silverware, breathe. “How had I managed to get into this position?” I asked myself. I made it through the blind date. In fact, I probably broke some dating rule by calling and asking to see her the next day. Multiple dates followed, and then the real test came. I couldn’t make a four-and-a-half-hour drive almost weekly just to see her. At least that is what I told myself, because the gas and time were too expensive. However, I looked at my to-do list and saw that I had plenty of “business” to take care of in that area. I asked if she would spend Mondays with me during that summer, promising to make the drive each week. “Mondays could sort of be our days,” I stammered. She replied with an excited, “Really, really, really??” It was settled. Our Monday dates consisted of bulb deliveries to nurseries, meetings with clients, and of course, bulb digs. Rather than...