14. Iris
Chapter fourteen
Iris
“Y ou got three Secret Snowflake gifts delivered via the mail cart while you were at the Big Sibling meeting,” Jin Ae says. “Lucky you!”
I open the first. It’s a jar of honey with a red flag taped to it. A shiver snakes through me. Is it a warning—someone knows I’m going to set up honeypots? Not Sebastian, right? Would he have bought a jar of honey this afternoon? Or is it a hint as to what to do? I stick it in my desk drawer gingerly. I don’t know. Everyone seems to be occupied—nobody is looking at me to see my reaction.
Why did Kevin say “ You don’t want it right now” to Hank?
The other gift is a calculator. I guess I can always use another calculator.
The third gift is an ergonomic mouse, which is a perfect gift for a gamer.
Raphael said he’d left a trail. Whatever he discovered has to be why he was fired. Otherwise, he would’ve told me.
I could be fired too if I follow his trail of clues. I chew on my nail.
But I’m more worried about an unknown intruder in our system. I could also lose my job if the intruder steals more company documents and I didn’t do something to prevent it.
But I haven’t had any time to pursue any investigation because I’m working full out on the migration. And I want to talk to Raphael directly first.
A s we walk to Raphael’s house in Dyker Heights, Sebastian, Maddie, and I pass by a large building decorated like a gingerbread house, with each of the windows framed in lights. A wreath hangs in the top triangle, a twinkling Christmas tree in the yard.
Dyker Heights is a residential neighborhood in Brooklyn, accessible via one of the last stops on the D subway line. The neighborhood is famous for elaborate Christmas displays, each house creating its own magic. It used to be a mostly Italian neighborhood, but the bubble tea shop with its sign in Chinese characters on the street corner hints that the neighborhood is definitely diversifying.
“You’re sure this is where he lives?” Maddie asks.
Raphael lives in a small, brick, two-story house. The windows are completely dark. Plastic reindeer are munching on his lawn, and a Santa Claus stands by the chimney on the roof, but the decorations are very tame compared to the houses on either side. Multicolored lights threaded through the porch eaves blink on and off.
“He invited us out here once for a team dinner last December so we could see the decorations,” I say. “I think it was also a gift for his mom so she could get more of a sense of the people in his office. His mom has limited mobility, and Raphael worries she is lonely. But this neighborhood seems pretty friendly. He had the dinner catered from the local diner.”
“Well, the holiday lights are on,” Sebastian says.
“But the windows are dark and the curtains are drawn,” I say.
We walk up the stone pathway to the porch. A few dead leaves lay scattered across the path.
I ring the doorbell. No answer. I press again.
Behind me, Maddie moves away. “Here’s an Amazon package, and it looks like it got wet, which means it was delivered Saturday.”
I turn around as Sebastian holds up a rolled-up New York Intelligencer and the familiar blue plastic bag that covers it when it’s raining. “Here’s Saturday’s newspaper.”
“At least he subscribes to the Intelligencer ,” Maddie says.
“So, it looks like he and his mom left on Saturday,” I say.
“Hey! Whaddya guys doing?” a muscular guy with a New York accent yells over at us from the yard next door.
The crowd of people on the sidewalk look over at us.
“I came to see Raphael,” I yell back. “He’s my boss, and I’m worried about him.”
Sebastian quickly puts the newspaper back in the blue bag while Maddie hides the package behind a planter. “I don’t want anyone to steal it.”
The neighbor marches over. “Yeah, so that’s why you’re picking up the packages. I saw you.” He points to Maddie. “Nice try with the mail theft.”
“Honestly,” I say. “I work with him, and I’m worried about him. How would I know his name?”
“Nice try. Wasn’t it on the package?” The neighbor has both hands on his hips and is glaring at us. “Get off the porch and scram. I won’t report you this time because it’s the holidays, but don’t come back. We look out for our own.”
The three of us scramble off the porch and scoot past the reindeer.
“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t think we’d be facing arrest by checking out Raphael’s house.” We turn to walk down the sidewalk away from Raphael’s house. The guy stands behind us, hands on his hips.
“Still, I think that confirms he left with his mom. Otherwise, the neighbor wouldn’t have felt so protective of the house,” Maddie says.
“I need to talk to him,” I say.
“Me too,” Sebastian says. “Maybe he’ll send you more clues, though.”
“Keep calling him. He might relent and pick up,” Maddie says. “I always keep phoning, even if someone doesn’t want to talk to me. At some point, they get so annoyed, they answer the phone.”
Annoying Raphael is not exactly my goal.
“Speaking of annoying, how are things with your neighbor?” I ask. I explain to Sebastian that Maddie lives next door to an up-and-coming rock star, and their adjoining walls are paper thin.
“He’s had some hits on YouTube, but he assured me he won’t move out because he’s reinvesting everything back into the business,” Maddie says.
“Assured?” I ask.
“That was definitely his tone,” Maddie says. “I told him I hope his investments include soundproofing.”
“Rock stars.” I shake my head. “We could look for a place together once I know what’s happening with work.”
Maddie makes a noncommittal noise. She says she’s not interested in Nick, but I worry that she does like him and he’s going to break her heart.
“I’ve never been here,” Sebastian says. “Should we at least take a walk around? Maybe we can get some ideas for how to decorate the gym for the high school holiday party.”
Maddie winks at me. “Yes, we definitely should.”
We walk up 84 th Street. Ahead of us, a tourist group speaking in Italian follows a man with a yellow umbrella. I glance back, and I swear someone slips behind a tree. Raphael? Not thin enough.
Koi fish imagery plays over the fa?ade of the first house on 13 th Avenue, slipping in and out of brightly colored light strands hung to look like seaweed, giving the impression the fish are playing hide-and-seek. A crowd stands in front of it taking pictures. It is amazing—the whole house is glowing. Sebastian and I share a glance of appreciation.
“Those are the Chinese characters for ‘good luck,’” Maddie says.
“We definitely need that,” I say.
The next house has a ten-foot Santa Claus statue waving hello from the front porch, and red and white lights cover the trees and the roof. Across the street is a wooden three-story house decorated in red and gold.
I turn around quickly and catch the neighbor behind us.
“Is the neighbor trailing us?” Maddie asks. “Does he think we’re casing the area?”
The neighbor points two fingers at his eyes and then at us. Repeatedly.
Is he a crazy person?
“Maybe we should leave,” I say.
“Let him follow us,” Sebastian says. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“And it took us an hour to get here,” Maddie says. “We should see the decorations.”
“This is Lucy Spato’s house,” a tour guide tells his group.
“Who’s that?” Sebastian asks.
“She’s the one who started this tradition,” Maddie says.
“It’s amazing,” I say. Toy soldiers, angels, and multiple Frosty the Snowmen completely fill in the yard on either side of the path up to her house. A blazing neon green and red Merry Christmas sign glows from the top of her house, surrounded by shooting stars.
“I read up about this,” Maddie says. “She wanted to start something free for the neighborhood so people didn’t have to go into Manhattan. People have even proposed in front of her house,”
“I’ll tell Rupert,” Sebastian says.
We pass by more houses decorated to the hilt. It’s like the store windows in Manhattan on steroids.
“It feels like we’ve stepped into a real-life version of Candy Land, the Christmas Edition,” I say.
“Where do they store all that stuff in the summer?” Maddie asks. And then we realize that some houses hire professional decorating companies when we see their signs dotting many of the lawns.
“We’ll never be able to do anything like this for the school gym,” I say. “We don’t have the funds, although we definitely could project images over the walls, like the first house with the Koi fish.”
“We could always do a winter wonderland theme,” Sebastian says. “My mom did that once for her holiday party. I’m sure she still has some decorations in storage she used for that.”
“A winter wonderland is a good idea. That’s pretty easy and inexpensive to create,” I say. “We can cut out paper snowflakes and hang them from the ceiling.”
“But maybe not so creative?” Sebastian asks.
“We’re not the most creative people of Dream, so we can ask the set design team for ideas,” I say. “But Faith said there were no decorations last year, so at least the baseline is low.”
“I think the neighbor has given up trailing us,” Sebastian says. “Some of these houses are huge.”
“And there are so many different styles of architecture,” I say. And different materials: brick, wood, clapboard, and stone.
We wander up 83 rd street to 10 th Avenue and then down 84 th Street.
One house is so bright, you can barely see the brick fa?ade behind the multicolored lights. Christmas carols play on outside speakers. The aroma of cooking chestnuts wafts over from a food truck. A re-purposed ice cream truck offers hot chocolates. One house has a large grill set up in their garage, and the smell of frying hamburgers blows over.
I’m only here because of Raphael’s departure, but last year when we visited, I thought I should make this an annual holiday tradition and invite all my friends to come with me. But I wouldn’t have done that this year, again, because I would have put work first. I really need to make time for my personal life.
The house and trees ahead are covered in green lights. A tour guide holding up a Santa hat on a stick explains that the decorations are inspired by the Emerald City from The Wizard of Oz .
As we wander through the neon green wonderland, Sebastian and I smile at each other. Maddie has moved ahead, so it’s just the two of us taking it in. His hand brushes by mine. As the tour group barrels by, he pulls me out of the way, his hand lightly gripping my arm. He doesn’t release me immediately. We stand there for a moment, inches apart, off to the side, neither one of us looking at the other. Around us little green lights twinkle and glow, as if to say this is a “Go.” It’s safe.
I move first and catch up to Maddie.
He wants to remain single. And I’ve got enough going on at work.
Maddie and I reach the next corner first, where Santa, Grinch, Mickey Mouse, and Snow Miser figures occupy a rustic shed. Sebastian seems to be taking his time. Is he having some sort of debate with himself? A little girl bundled up with a green knit hat pushes the button to make the figures talk.
When he finally reaches us, his cheeks are flushed, but that could be the cold. He doesn’t look at me and seems to be really taking in the shed.
But then he turns to me and says, “How about a theme of Heat Miser and Snow Miser for the school dance? That would be fun to decorate. Do half the gym in a tropical theme and half in a wintery ice theme.”
Was he just thinking of ideas all this time? And here I am wondering if he’s debating whether to give in to this attraction.
“That’s a great idea,” I say. “Let me text Faith and see what she thinks, but maybe they haven’t even seen the classic Santa Claus is Coming to Town .”
“You’re making me feel so old. My mom made me watch that,” Sebastian says.
“Same,” Maddie and I say.
“I can ask Jamal tomorrow when we meet for tutoring. I’m meeting him at the St. Agnes library uptown,” Sebastian says.
“I’m impressed,” I say.
“He really wants to give a better report card to his mom for Christmas,” Sebastian says. “We went over math problems today. He has a test on Friday.”
I text Faith about Sebastian’s idea.
Faith: Yes! Can we meet after school tomorrow and get decorations?
Me: How about we meet at Banter signs in Chinese adorn the storefronts.
“What’s going on with Sebastian?” Maddie asks.
“He wants to stay single,” I say.
“He’s not acting like he wants to stay single,” she says.
“He came out to Dyker Heights because he also thinks Raphael’s termination is suspicious—especially because Kevin said Raphael did something unauthorized, though Kevin can’t—or won’t—prove it.”
“Kevin said that?” Maddie asks.
“That’s what Sebastian said,” I say.
Maddie shudders. “That Kevin is such a snake. Making false insinuations without any facts. Maybe you should get out of there. I don’t trust him. Especially how you described the way he used his body to try to intimidate you.”
“But I’m Deputy CISO,” I say.
“You should use that title to look for a job with a better boss. Especially now that Raphael is gone,” Maddie says.
“It’s not like Deputy CISO jobs are out there for the picking,” I say wryly. “And it’s not like I even have time. I’m already trying to investigate this hack in my free time because company time is consumed with the migration.”
“I wish I could help,” Maddie says.
“You did help today, by coming out with me to Dyker Heights.”
Maddie slips her arm through mine. “I can’t decide if it was good I came along or not. I’m worried you’re falling for Sebastian because he’s safe and he won’t reciprocate your feelings. But I’m not sure he’s so safe. The way he looks at you…and when the two of you were making cookies at Lily’s, it was a miracle you needed to use the oven to heat up the cookies. I worry you’ll get your heart broken if he isn’t interested in a serious long-term relationship.”
We stop in front of Maddie’s apartment building. The light is on in her neighbor’s apartment, and faint strains of Christmas music can be heard through his window.
“Nick is trying to come up with a Christmas song. He’s been doing some Christmas song covers, but he also wants to write his own,” Maddie says.
“Well, it can’t be too bad to listen to Christmas music right now,” I say.
“If Sebastian said he was interested in a relationship right now, what would you say?” Maddie asks.
So much for the brief reprieve.
“I don’t know,” I say, facing her. “I admit I’m attracted to him. And at Dahlia’s party, when I was tipsy, I leaned in to kiss him—”
“You did?”
I sigh. “I did. And he admitted he leaned it to kiss me. We both acknowledge the attraction. But we’re also adult enough to know that we can’t act on it. I don’t do flings well. I can’t go through another breakup like Patrick. Especially with what’s going on at work. And we work together. Our friends are getting married.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry. We’re not going to date.”