10. Iris
10
IRIS
As the two committee members leave my office an hour later, bubble blasters in hand, a sense of accomplishment fills me, chasing away some of my earlier doubts.
Sloane's comment was meant as a joke, but my idea for including bubble artists as part of the festival lineup is a hit.
"It's going to be so fun .” I give Jodi, who is seated at her desk, a pointed look.
"That's what it's all about.” George chuckles as he points the blaster at Jodi and fires a stream of bubbles. "Your uncle would be proud of some of Iris’s new ideas for adding more fun to Fun Fest."
“Who's going to pay for it?” Jodi asks sweetly, "since Iris has allocated so much of the approved budget to the library." She steeples her fingers. "Which is a worthy cause, of course. But if we try to do everything, she's going to put Skylark in terrible financial shape."
George and Marla frown as the bubbles succumb to gravity and silently pop, vanishing along with my fleeting happiness.
“I thought you said the budget was worked out,” George says darkly.
"I said it's getting worked out, and it is.” Look at me matching Jodi’s syrupy sweetness and trying not to notice the bitter aftertaste. “I’m exploring new avenues for funding and sponsorship so we can expand the event and still support the literacy program."
“You suggested selling tickets for Fun Fest.” Jodi tilts her head and shrugs, cloaking the malice hidden in her words.
Marla gasps. "Oh no, this is our gift to the town. We can't charge them. That takes away the fun. This needs to be free fun."
I nod and will away the heat I feel rising to my face. "I understand that."
“There’s always your idea of defunding the fire department," Jodi offers like she’s sharing a weather report.
“The fire department,” George bellows. "What are you thinking, Iris?"
“We’re not defunding the fire department," I assure him and place my blaster on the corner of Jodi’s desk. The urge to use it as an actual weapon is just too strong at the moment. “No essential services they provide will be impacted by this event.”
"You did mention it," Jodi insists, her deceptively honeyed tone making my teeth ache.
I sarcastically suggested both options in the midst of racking my brain to come up with ideas of how to make everyone happy. I wasn’t serious, and Jodi damn well knows it. I should have had my guard up after she ambushed me at the start of the week, but she insisted sabotage wasn’t her intention.
And, like a fool, I believed her.
"It's going to be great,” I promise the two committee members. “So fun. The most fun this town has ever seen.”
Marla grips my wrist. “Our budget is locked in, right?”
"Of course.”
They both nod, although neither looks convinced.
As soon as George and Marla are out the door of the main office, I shut it and round on Jodi.
She wrinkles her nose. "I think our door needs to remain open so the residents of this town know they're always welcome in the mayor’s office, even if you choose to keep your inner sanctum shut most of the time."
“As you well know, my door is shut because I can't concentrate when you play music.”
“I need music to work. It helps with my anxiety."
“It’s making me anxious that you seem hellbent on throwing me under every passing bus.” But I open the door again.
“It’s not my problem you overpromise and underdeliver.” She reaches for the bubble blaster. “No one is going to be fooled by a cheap plastic prop. You aren’t fun, Iris. You’re a stick in the mud who wouldn’t know fun if the definition was plastered on the side of a bus.”
“Why do you hate me?” I force my voice to remain calm. “I didn’t do anything to?—”
“Your mom did plenty.” Her voice is low and spiteful.
“Along with your father,” I can’t help but point out. “I was a kid.”
“ I was a kid,” she counters, pointing to her own chest. “ You were in high school.”
“Don’t you think I would have stopped her if I could? I’m just as embarrassed by their affair as you.”
“It did more than embarrass my family.” She comes around her desk until we’re toe to toe. “The scandal ripped us apart, ruined my dad’s career and broke my mom’s heart. It destroyed her standing in this community while you and your mom got to leave town.”
A whirlwind of emotions—shock, guilt, and defensiveness—tangle together inside me, making my knees go weak.
“I didn’t want to leave.” I say the words like they should matter, when I know they won’t. I might not have caused the scandal that destroyed her family, but I’m tethered to it, nonetheless.
Her brows draw together as she studies me, and I feel a deep empathy for the woman standing before me—a person whose family was shattered by choices neither of us asked for.
“Fine, the scandal wasn’t your fault. And I guess I shouldn’t punish you for your mom being a slut.”
“That’s not exactly how I’d describe her,” I say but don’t argue too much.
I haven’t seen my mom in five years. We talk twice a year, on Christmas and on her birthday—never mine. She’s still dating, and I’ve stopped asking if her boyfriends are married or not. I don’t want to know. It’s way easier that way.
“Why did you come back now?” Her tone is curious not angry, which surprises me after all the animosity she’s displayed.
I shrug. “Even though we only lived here a few months, it felt like home.”
“This isn’t your home.”
Ouch. Still spoken gently, but that stings.
“And we all know you’ll be leaving again soon enough.”
I think about Sadie’s comment at our book club meeting. About me putting Skylark in my rearview mirror.
“What if I don’t want to leave? What if I told you things are changing? I’m changing.”
Am I? Am I capable of the kind of change I want in my life?
Part of me wants to believe it. I've never been a big fan of the person my childhood turned me into.
"Just like trying to convince people you signed up for dance class because you think it would be a lol."
"I do think it could be a lol .”
I hate using slang. My mom was beyond casual in how she spoke and acted, so I tend to be formal and stuffy. Some people might even say I have a stick up my ass. Jodi is one of those people. But I'm going to prove her wrong. I'm going to prove all of us wrong.
"Come on, Iris, I know why you're in that class."
“Fine.” I blow out a shaky breath, hating that she can see through me so easily. “Just because Glo?—”
“You still have the hots for Jake Byrne."
Whoa, did not see that coming.
"Trust me, Jodi,” I sputter out a laugh, “I didn't know Jake was going to be part of the class when I signed up."
"I don't believe you.” She returns to her chair, once again glaring at me. “I saw him on his first day back in town, you know. We were at the grocery store at the same time. We reached for the same head of broccoli."
Okay, this is getting weird. “What do Jake Byrne's vegetable-buying habits have to do with you being out to get me at every turn?"
"We had a moment, Jake and I, in the produce department. Maybe it could lead to something, but not if you go after him."
"I'm not going after him."
"Then drop out of the class."
"I can't. I won't. I'm not in it for him. He doesn't even like me."
"He always liked you," she argues. "Why do you think he became friends with your brother? It was to get close to you."
“Or because they were both wild party animals."
"It was to get close to you," she repeats. “Despite dressing like you're auditioning for the new season of Suits most of the time, I know how you Dixon women are with your feminine wiles."
"I don't have wiles." I laugh, trying not to sound as self-conscious as I feel. “I have whatever the opposite of wiles is.”
"I've seen the way half the men who come through this office look at you."
The comment takes me aback. I've never wanted wiles because my mom used hers so recklessly. But I must admit, the thought of having them where Jake is concerned does have some appeal.
"I'm not in the class for Jake.” I cross my arms over my chest and glance toward the door to make sure no one is close enough to overhear. “I’m trying to convince Gloria to mentor me. If she sees I'm not the stick in the mud you've led everyone to believe, maybe she will."
"But you are that stick in the mud."
"I am not .” I resist the urge to stomp my foot in protest. “I’m fun, and I’m not after Jake Byrne.”
She studies me for a long moment. “Promise?" she eventually asks.
I think about the way it felt to be in Jake's embrace during the class, even though I couldn't relax. The fact that most of why I couldn't relax was being in his embrace.
"I promise."
“Okay, but…” Her lips twist into an almost apologetic grimace. “You won’t need a mentor if you aren’t elected.”
Alarm bells go off in my head. “I’m running unopposed.”
The members of the town council had called me in about a month after my appointment to voice their support if I’d consider a full term in office. Despite my lack of formal experience in the position, they cited my adaptability and willingness to collaborate, plus my focus on progressive initiatives and sustainability as proof that I was a promising leader. The word fun hadn’t been mentioned once.
Their confidence bolstered me in a way I desperately needed after how things imploded in Minnesota. Not that anyone—even Sloane—knows the details of that shit show. I agreed to the council’s request because I want a chance to make a difference and a foundation on which to rebuild my life and career. They also assured me that with the council’s backing, the election will be more of a formality than a real race.
“Not as of later today,” Jodi explains. The throbbing in my head worsens with each word she speaks. “My cousin, Joey, is going to announce that he’s running against you,” she says out of the blue.
Her statement blindsides me. This isn’t how things were supposed to go. I have a plan, and this is just one more twist that’s blowing it all to hell.
Pacing to the window so she can’t read the doubt on my face, I work to control my breathing. “Joey runs the auto body shop north of town, right?”
“Third generation mechanic,” she confirms.
“Which means he has even less political experience than me. I can?—”
"You can't beat him."
“You might not think I'm fun, but I'm dedicated to this town. It’s my home, even if the mayor’s office is a stepping stone for something more. That only means I'm going to try harder. I have goals, Jodi, and?—”
“He’s going to use the scandal against you.”
I slowly turn to face her. I’ve never given much thought to having a Spidey-sense, but my whole body is tingling, and not in the way it did earlier watching Jake move across the dance floor.
No one knows about my scandal. A wave of shame washes over me as I imagine the gossip and judgment, my reputation unraveling before my eyes. There are worse things to be known as than a stick in the mud. And given my mom’s history, the “other woman” label is devastating to me, even if I deserve it.
“Why?” I croak out. “How?” I grip the edge of the window like the wood trim can keep me from falling.
She lets out a long sigh. “I get that it’s unfair, and most people in Skylark don’t hold you responsible for how your mom behaved, but my family still does.” She shrugs. “Me included, as we both know. Joey is going to lean into the whole family values platform. Tradition, since the Moores have a long history around here. You haven’t done anything to deserve it, but he’s going for the whole complicit by association angle. I think it has a good shot of tilting things in his favor.”
“Oh.” I move to a nearby chair on shaky legs and lower myself into it. “This is about my mom.”
“Your brother’s kind of a train wreck, too,” Jodi adds. “I’m honestly sorry, Iris. You aren’t the villain here.”
Not here. But I am a villain.
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling exposed and conflicted. What now?
“I could help you with a campaign,” Jodi offers, making me realize I voiced the question out loud.
A laugh bubbles up in my throat. “Is this some kind of Trojan Horse deal, or like when Regina and The Plastics got their revenge in Mean Girls ? Why would you help me when you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you,” she says quietly. “And I guess I understand I’m not the only one still dealing with the fallout of a scandal that wasn’t my fault.” She taps her shiny nails on the desk. “Plus, I’m hoping if I help you that you’ll help me with Jake.”
Whoa. The shock waves just keep on reverberating through me.
I don’t know what to say, but I do know I made a promise to Sloane and a commitment to myself. Maybe I can finally prove to the world—myself included—that I’m not only fun, I’m also fierce.
It’s time for a self-reckoning. There’s a lot involved in navigating the potential fallout, but also the possibility of rebuilding my sense of self. And that’s enough of a potential win to convince me not to turn away from this fight. No matter what I have to do to win.