What if they’re even worse? What if they prefer the child they raised? And it turns out nobody wants me? She clenched her fist on the teacup to the point that it was faintly surprising that the delicate handle didn’t snap off in her grasp. Sally seemed to feel the same way since she removed the fragile porcelain gently from Iris’s hand.
“Breathe,” Eli said softly.
He had been so quiet during the whole thing that she’d practically forgotten he was there. Yet when she glanced in his direction, she saw only gentle concern. Not pity, which would’ve wrecked her.
“Is it awful that I would rather just…not think about it?” Iris buried her face in her hands; avoidance was her favorite strategy for dealing with crap life chucked at her.
Sally shook her head. “Of course not. This came out of the blue. It would be strange if you were ready to sail off in search of your ‘real’ family. And I have strong opinions about that anyway. Your mother should have broken the news delicately and then fought tooth and nail to assure you that you’re her daughter, no matter what.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Iris said. “Never has. I can’t remember a single moment when she was happy with me. Or…proud of me.”
“Then you’re better off without her.” Sally gave her a hug, and it almost balanced out the badness.
Almost.
“I…need some time.” She got to her feet and headed upstairs without looking directly at either one of them.
If anything, Iris wished they hadn’t witnessed that scene. Lily might even send messages about Iris collecting the rest of her things. Since Iris had decided not to give her sister a pass over Dylan, she turned everything into a personal grudge. That was entirely in character, so maybe Iris would surprise everyone and strike first.
Eli would probably let me borrow his truck. No, I bet he’ll insist on driving me since it’s quite a trek. Luckily, she had her own basement now, and she could house the boxes just fine. Maybe she’d even sort through them and sell some stuff, donating the rest, just as she’d done with Great-Aunt Gertie’s belongings.
For a while, Iris tried to work, but her heart wasn’t in it, and finally, in the privacy of her attic retreat, she let herself cry, fat and futile tears that did nothing to change her situation. Iris wept until she was spent and fell asleep in her clothes. She woke the next morning gummy-eyed but more resolved.
She also had three texts from Olive.
Olive: I don’t care what the hospital said. You’re my baby sister. If Lily gives you a hard time, tell me. I’ll talk to her. I’m fed up with her lately anyway.
Olive: And if you need somewhere else to be, you can come to me. I don’t have much, but you’re welcome, and you could do some good while you’re here.
Olive: Love you, sis. Just wanted to say that too.
Iris wiped her eyes because they were threatening to spill over again, but not in a bad way this time. Quickly, she tapped out a response.
Iris: I’m honestly not even surprised. I appreciate the offer, but I’m at Great-Aunt Gertie’s place now. I wonder if she’d be horrified to realize she left her house to someone who’s not a blood relative.
Olive: Knowing Great-Auntie, she’d be delighted.
Iris: What time is it there anyway?
Olive: Don’t worry about it. Hang in there, okay? I’m…virtually here for you.
Iris: I have some great housemates now. I’ll be okay.
Maybe that was pure optimism, but Iris felt better after the chat with Olive. She always was my favorite. There was still a faint ache in her chest, but not enough to keep her from going about her business. Iris washed up, had some food, and finished two more pieces before the end of the day. Then she took careful photos, filtered them, and used Eli’s trick to make the new items pop. In checking her stat page, she saw that more visitors were cruising by. Actually, that could be Sally too; she was always telling people to check out Iris’s work.
As Iris wrapped up, a text arrived from an unknown number.
Unknown: Hi, this is Mira Yoon. I got your number from Megan. I think you’re rooming with her grandmother?
Iris: That’s me. I’m not sure what you heard, but I have two rooms left. I own a big old Victorian house.
Mira: I’d love to swing by. I’m really in a bind.
Iris: I have time tonight.
Mira: I’ll be there after I get off work. I have an afternoon meeting and they sometimes run long, so I’ll text you when I’m leaving the office. Is that okay?
Iris: Yep! We’ll be here. You can meet everyone.
Mira: Everyone? How many housemates do you have, exactly?
Iris: Right now? 3. You’d be the fourth.
Mira: …OK. See you later.
Yeah, Mira definitely seemed dubious about living with this many people, and Iris would understand if she passed. The bathroom situation might become an issue, though since Mira had a day job, if a schedule had to be made, she’d get priority. Damn, I never really thought about the logistics. I’m…bad at logistics. Then she shrugged philosophically.
That was for future-Iris to worry about.
* * *
Eli drove Henry Dale to the middle of nowhere.
Forty-seven minutes from St. Claire, away from all civilization—into the heart of corn country. This time of year, the fields were earthen dark, full of dried of husks, depressing and broken up by so many tiny towns with improbable names that Eli lost track. Most didn’t have stoplights or a post office. He saw hints that some of them had once been bigger with closed buildings and weathered houses telling the story. Periodically, he spotted wooden signs, hand-painted, for berries, honey, hay, or dirt.
In time, they reached a farm set well back from the road on a winding drive. There were a couple of silos, cows grazing in fenced fields nearby. Two barns on the property as well, and one of them was apparently being demolished. This wasn’t what he’d expected when the older man mentioned a teardown, but he helped sort through the lumber alongside Henry Dale, then they loaded the truck with enough wood to repair the porch. There would probably be lumber left for other projects too. If he knew the other man a fraction as well as he suspected, Henry Dale would likely store the rest in the shed and find other things to fix.
“It’s good of you to do this,” Eli said as they got back in the truck.
“Hogwash,” said Henry Dale.
“Excuse me?” He glanced over as he made a three-point turn on the gravel drive and headed back toward town.
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. I’m using old contacts to get a discount on my rent and to stave off boredom.”
Eli let it go because Henry Dale seemed allergic to the idea that he’d get caught being nice to somebody. “Never mind, then.” Taking the hint, he changed the subject. “I hear we might be getting another housemate.”
The other man sighed. “Like the place isn’t already busy enough. I understand it’s not my place to object—Iris owns the house, not me—but don’t you think we have enough people? Sally is loud enough for four folks.”
Eli thought about that. “I’ve lived alone for years,” he said slowly. “So I don’t really mind. I like having dinner with everyone, and I enjoy the company. It’s…” He paused. What was the right word, exactly? “Comforting.”