Chapter 37 Iris
IRIS
Ikeep my phone off for the next two days.
When I finally turn it on, it’s a mistake. There are seven missed calls from my father, four voicemails I don’t dare listen to, and three texts.
Dad: Where the hell are you?
Dad: I don’t have time for your theatrics.
Dad: Iris, enough. You need to start taking your life seriously.
My pulse races as I read his words, hands clammy on my phone.
Shit. I’ve really done it this time.
I didn’t mean to disappear for forty-eight hours, but after talking with Eric, I couldn’t shake this idea of ADHD. It became an itch—an itch I needed to scratch. I must have read every possible website on the topic, listened to every possible podcast, and… holy smokes. I think Eric might be right.
I think Aidan might be right, as much as it stings.
I’ve never felt so exposed as I read through the list of symptoms in women. Things I thought were just me, things I’ve tried—and failed—to fix. All this time I thought I was too much, and also, somehow, not enough. All this time I’ve tried to make up for the ways I’ve fallen short.
And all this time, it wasn’t my fault. My brain is simply wired differently.
At first, I didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe I wouldn’t let myself believe it.
I kept hearing my father’s voice in my head, the one that always told me I’m not trying, that I needed to work harder.
Part of me wondered if I was looking for an excuse.
Like a get-out-of-jail-free card for the ways I mess everything up.
But the more I read, the harder it became to deny.
It was eerily specific, uncannily familiar.
The forgetfulness. Distraction. Impulsiveness.
Overwhelm. Intense emotions. Time blindness…
I thought these were moral failings, things I could fix if I only tried harder, but they’re traits. Traits of ADHD.
Seeing it all in black and white, seeing a legitimate explanation for why life feels so much harder for me than everyone else… I can’t describe the relief.
That maybe I’m not a walking disaster, despite what teachers, friends, my father have always thought.
I cried again for a long time after that. The relief was too much to contain. I thought of all the time I spent beating myself up. All the times I let others tell me I wasn’t trying. All the ways I’d tried to make myself fit into a mold that wasn’t made for me.
And when I found this website that described ADHD as a superpower, I was intrigued.
It talked about the benefits of “hyperfocus.” Yep, it turns out there’s a name for that state where I get so involved in a task that I lose track of time.
It explained the gift of deep feeling, how much more creative ADHD people tend to be.
All these other parts of me that actually, when I stop to think about it, I quite like. Parts I wouldn’t want to change.
This is only the beginning, and I need to get an official diagnosis, which I haven’t looked into yet, but I will. I have so much more to learn, but even with what I’ve already read… I feel like a different person.
No. The same person, only with a better understanding of how my brain works.
I glance at my phone again, looking through the notifications from the last couple days.
Nothing from Aidan, and I try to ignore the plunge of disappointment I feel.
It doesn’t make sense, not after the way he humiliated me in front of the team.
Mortification washes through me as I think of the look on Tash’s face, the pity in Dani’s eyes.
Add to that the messages from Dad… My gut churns as I try to imagine walking back in there. I know I can’t hide forever, but—
My phone buzzes in my hand, lighting up with a text from the group chat.
Poppy: Anyone free for coffee?
I chew my lip as I read the text. I haven’t spoken to them since we went for dinner last week, and I certainly haven’t told them about how everything blew up with Aidan. They’ve all got such wonderful lives. What would they think of me?
Three dots appear as someone replies, and it occurs to me once again they’re going out of their way to include me. Poppy could have messaged the others directly, but she didn’t. Despite myself, warmth seeps through my chest at the realization.
Violet: I can sneak away for a bit!
Daisy: My shift finishes soon, meet at Joe’s in an hour?
Poppy: Perfect, see you then!
My fingers itch to reply. I want to go, even after the roller coaster of the past few days, or maybe because of it.
Because I’ve been stuck in my head, cooped up in my tiny apartment.
Because I could use some time with friends.
Could use a laugh. And I could really, really use one of Poppy’s cupcakes.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I type out a reply.
Iris: I’d love to join, if that’s okay?
My finger hovers over the send button, then I delete the message to start over. I’m in the text group. They invited me. I don’t need to ask. Instead, I send an enthusiastic reply.
Iris: Count me in!
Daisy and Violet heart the message, followed by a GIF from Poppy—Jake Peralta saying Noice! It makes me grin. I mentioned I was a fan of Brooklyn 99, and didn’t expect her to remember, but I’ve underestimated these three quite a lot, haven’t I?
I put my phone down to get ready, looking forward to coffee with my friends. Relieved to have a distraction from dealing with work and my father, at least for a few hours.
My stomach pitches as I exit the subway at Clark Street. I was so excited to be invited for coffee that I didn’t consider how close Joe’s is to the office.
Or how much it reminds me of Aidan.
I push into the coffee shop with a heavy heart. Last time I was here, I was ordering coffee for us, in a bubble of love and happiness after our weekend together.
A bubble that burst the moment I walked into Dad’s office, I remind myself, pushing thoughts of Aidan away.
I spy Poppy and Violet at a table in the back corner.
They wave me over with a grin. The place is packed, and I thread through the crowd to the table, where Violet rises to pull me into a hug, followed by Poppy.
“I’m so glad you could come!” she says, as I sink into a chair. “We all live nearby, but I realized I don’t actually know where you live.”
“I’m in Queens.”
Violet looks puzzled. “But Daisy said you’re in here all the time?”
“I… work down the street,” I mumble, not wanting the reminder.
“I don’t even know what you do.” Poppy scrunches her nose, looking apologetic. “I’ve been so distracted lately.” She looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. I really don’t want to discuss my work life right now, not after what happened, but I also don’t want to lie.
“I’m, uh, an assistant.”
“Cool.” Poppy smiles. “Where?”
“An architecture firm,” I say, before remembering what Violet told me last time, that her company is planning to meet with Dad. She looks at me with a frown, as if piecing it together, when Daisy approaches the table carrying a tray of coffee cups.
“Sorry,” she says, setting the drinks down, then untying her apron and settling in at the table. “We got slammed right as you arrived.”
Violet looks around Joe’s with a good-natured laugh. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re still here. Wes makes good money, and your photography business is doing well.”
“I’m only part-time.” Daisy shrugs, smiling.
“I like it. The people, the coffee, being part of the neighborhood… It makes me happy.” She pushes her long dark hair over one shoulder, lips twisting in a smirk.
“Are you complaining about the free coffee? Because I’d be more than happy to cut off your supply… ”
Violet’s hands cover her mug protectively. “Don’t even joke about that.”
Poppy laughs, glancing at her mug. “I’m definitely not complaining,” she says, “but I should probably tell you, I’ve switched to decaf.”
Violet’s eyes narrow. “Since when do you drink decaf?”
“Since…” Poppy bites her lip, looking at the three of us. “Since I got pregnant.”
A loud shriek escapes Violet, and she leans forward, pulling Poppy into a hug. “Oh my God! Finally!”
Daisy piles on, beaming as she squeezes her friend. “I’m so happy for you guys!”
I grin, and once Poppy has finally had a moment to catch her breath, I hug her too. “Congratulations. That’s so exciting.”
“Thanks.” She’s pink with happiness as we settle back in our seats. “It’s very early days, and you’re not supposed to tell anyone in case it doesn’t stick, but…” She shakes her head. “I want you guys with me every step of the way. If it doesn’t work out… I’m going to need your support.”
The others ask questions about due dates, and I stare at Poppy, in awe of her vulnerability. That she’s prepared to risk sharing this, even if it ends badly, because she knows she’ll need to lean on her friends. Because that’s what friends are for—supporting you when shit gets real.
Daisy rises to swap Poppy’s coffee for decaf, glancing around the table. “Does anyone want anything else?”
I give her a sheepish smile. “I’ll take a mint chocolate cupcake if there’s one going.”
Daisy grins. “Of course. I should have known.”
I watch her leave, thinking about Poppy again.
If she can be vulnerable, maybe I can, too.
Maybe I can tell them I think I have ADHD.
Eric was so casual about it, like he’d known this about me all along and didn’t care.
Will they be the same? Part of me is scared to share it, wondering if they’ll judge me, but another, much larger part wants to tell them.
Wants to say the words out loud to someone.
To take a chance with these lovely women, because I can’t help but think they’ll accept it.
Accept me.
As soon as Daisy returns, I take a deep breath, focusing on my cupcake. “I, uh, kind of have some news, too.”
Poppy cradles her coffee, brows lifting. “Ooh, that sounds interesting.”
“Oh.” I wave a hand, chuffing an embarrassed laugh. “I’m not having a baby, or anything. It’s not really a big deal.”