35. Iris
35
IRIS
I slink into the office around noon the following day, assuming I’ll find it empty since Jodi is a regular at a lunch-hour Pilates class at the local studio. Only, I hear voices when I walk into the reception area. And they’re coming from my office.
Daniel Pearson jumps about ten feet when I open the door, the bag of chips he tossed in the air raining potato snowflakes all over the carpet in front of my desk.
“I thought you were sick,” Jodi says from where she sits in my chair.
There’s no apology from her, no scrambling to vacate the seat behind my desk… which nearly makes me laugh. I stand in the doorway like I’m the one who doesn’t belong. And in a lot of ways, that’s true.
“I thought you did Pilates on Tuesdays.”
She tips up her chin in acknowledgment. “Daniel brought lunch. We’re discussing the foundation’s involvement in the initiative.”
“In my office with the door closed?”
“There’s a class of loud third graders touring town hall for a field trip.”
“Huh. I didn’t see any kids when I walked in.”
I can’t help but wonder what’s going on between the two of them. Whatever it is, I’m happy for Jodi if she’s happy.
“I should go,” Daniel says as he bends down to scoop the fallen chips.
“You don’t need to go,” Jodi and I say in unison.
I draw in a deep breath. “I’m glad you’re both here. I have something I need to tell you.”
I incline my head toward Jodi. “Mostly you, but it’s probably good that someone from the foundation hears this as well since they sponsor so many community events.”
Daniel frowns. “Shouldn’t Jake be part of the conversation?”
“Jake doesn’t work for the foundation yet.” That’s not why I haven’t told him my news, but Daniel doesn’t argue.
“Did you pick up your signs?” Jodi asks. “I haven’t seen any yet.”
“I’m not putting them out.” I walk forward, my hands balled into tight fists at my sides. “Daniel, don’t worry about the chips. I’ll vacuum later.”
“I can vacuum,” he offers, glancing at Jodi with a shy smile.
“Have a seat,” I tell him.
Jodi places her half-eaten sandwich in a paper wrapper on the corner of my desk.
“Sorry for using your office,” she says. How funny she’s apologizing now when she’s taken far bolder liberties over the past six months.
“You’re welcome in here anytime. I’m sure your cousin will feel the same when he takes over.”
“No negative thinking.” Jodie shakes her head. “You have a good chance of?—”
I hold up a hand. “I’m dropping out of the race.”
She and Daniel both gape at me before blurting out, “Why?” in identical tones of confusion.
“Personal reasons. The bottom line is that as much as I enjoy making a difference in the mayor’s office, politics isn’t my true calling. I like initiatives .” I smile at Daniel. “I love working with the foundation. But the other parts of the job—pancake breakfasts and the public persona of the glad-handing small-town mayor—they aren’t for me.”
“But you’re making it work.” Jodi sits back in her chair— my chair. “Your whole make-the-mayor-fun operation is working.”
“And I’ve had way more fun than I expected.” I shrug, thinking about my brother’s words and all the cute porcupine images I have on my phone thanks to Jake. “I’m glad I learned to loosen up a bit, but I don’t want the pressure to prove I’ve changed. I don’t want to change any more than I already have. If I continue in politics, I’d have to become someone fundamentally different. I like me, even if I am an acquired taste.”
Jodi doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You have a decent chance of winning.”
“I appreciate all the support you gave me,” I tell her, “but I’m sure.”
I turn to Daniel. “The initiatives we’ve started—the parks improvements, small business grants, the youth programs—are too important to let fall apart because I’m not in office. I want to make sure they continue, whether I’m mayor or not.”
His expression shifts from surprise to something more thoughtful. “Most people would walk away and let the next guy deal with it.”
“This town means too much to me,” I say firmly. “The people here mean too much. Even if I’m not mayor, I still want to help.”
He smiles and adjusts his glasses. “You’ve done a lot of good here, Iris. I hope you know that.”
“So what’s next?” Jodi asks.
“Gloria has a friend who runs a think tank in Seattle. She’s offered to put in a good word for me.”
“You’re leaving Skylark? But you have plans for your initiatives. You can’t manage them from Seattle.”
“I have friends—and now family—here, so I’ll be back to visit.”
“What about Jake?” Daniel asks. “Will you be back to visit him? Because I’m almost certain he’ll be named the next president of the Byrne Family Foundation.”
“Jake won’t be—” I stop myself.
“Jake won’t be what?” Jodi asks me, then turns to Daniel. “If he’s running the foundation, he’s going to be here, right?”
“I assume so.” He pauses, then says, “There’s a satellite office in Austin, but his grandpa has always been committed to keeping the foundation headquartered in Colorado.”
“What about when Gilbert isn’t running it anymore? Is there anything that would force Jake to keep it here?” Jodi asks, concern lacing her tone.
“Jake’s going to do what’s best for everyone,” I say brightly, regretting what I almost let slip. That isn’t my secret to share, and I have no right to reveal it.
Sloane chooses that moment to burst through the door, skidding to a stop and taking in the scene in front of her. Jodi is sitting in my chair with her lunch on my desk while I stand in front of her like I’ve been called to the principal’s office, and Daniel, who’s back on his knees, is scooping chip dust into his hand.
“I have a lot of questions,” she says slowly, “but right now, I need to talk to Iris in private.”
She raises a hand to adjust the knit cap covering her bald head, blinking rapidly like whatever she has to say is serious.
“Of course,” Jodi says as she pops out of the chair.
“Right,” Daniel agrees as he shoves his hand into the front pocket of his beige slacks to deposit the crumbled chips.
I study Sloane, trying to gauge her emotions. She doesn’t seem upset, but it must be serious if she’s barging into my office and demanding to talk to me in private. Has something happened with her treatments? Or maybe she’s received a new cancer update?
“You’re sure this is what you want?” Jodi asks me as she comes around the desk. “Because I truly believe you can be?—”
“We’ll talk later,” I interrupt, flicking my eyes to Sloane. I don’t want to bother her with my piddly problems if she’s facing some new hurdle on her health journey.
I reach out and place a hand on Daniel’s arm as he starts to move past me. “You’re good for this town, too, Daniel.”
“I appreciate that, Iris. You have the right kind of vision.” He nods and then follows Jodi out of the office.
Once the door clicks shut behind them, Sloane grabs my arms and squeezes tight. “That was weird, right? Like I said, I have questions. But first, I have news.”
“Is everything okay?” I squeeze her hand in return.
“Not even a little.” Her eyes flash with obvious excitement. “My news is amazing, mind-blowing, and you can’t tell a soul.”
My grin is genuine. “I’m up for having my mind blown.”
“Spencer Charles is coming to book club tonight.”
My mouth drops open. “Shut the front door.”
“Oh, girl. I’m opening the door of my bookstore to your favorite author. His agent called today, and she sounded as surprised as I feel. He’s in Colorado and willing to attend. No pictures, no social media, and nobody outside of the book club can know.” She whisper-shouts, “But he’s coming. Spencer Charles is coming , Iris.”
“How did you manage it?”
She shrugs. “I might have used the cancer angle, but only because I love you.”
“You manipulated a best-selling author to come to book club? For me?” Cue the tears.
“We’ve been friends forever, and you’ve never once asked me for one thing, Iris. Not even a bite of my food, and I’m clearly the superior menu orderer. This month has been a lot, and even though going to a dance class or singing karaoke at a dive bar seems easy—easier than, let’s say, finding the courage to punch a V-card with an NFL god?—”
“Turned out okay for Sadie in the end,” I assure her.
“Exactly. It’s going to turn out okay for you, too. Tonight’s book club is going to be the best because you’re going to meet one of your heroes.”
I let out a tiny squeal and then hug her as the reality of it sinks in. “I love this for me.” The weight of my life feels not so weighty at the moment.
“I love it for you too,” she says, hugging me back. “But you can’t tell anyone, not even Jake.”
“Are you sure?” I don’t want another secret from Jake. “I know he’s read a few of the Ellie Spaulding books. Maybe he could?—”
“No, it’s just us. If I’m being completely honest, I have a vision of your eyes locking with Spence’s across the room and watching the sparks fly.”
“Oh, he’s Spence now?”
“I feel like he’s going to be Spence by the end of the night, for sure. What if he falls instantly in love with you?”
“Yeah, right. We both know I’m not the type anyone falls instantly in love with. Even if he did—” I sigh, sinking more deeply into the hug.
“You’re in love with Jake Byrne,” she murmurs.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” My voice is muffled by her jacket but she hears me all the same.
“Any chance you can un-fall?”
“I have a feeling I’m going to have to.” I pull back, hoping a deep breath will help me find some inner strength, but I seem to be fresh out. “It’s going to take a while.”
“We’ll get you through this, lady. And Spence might be the perfect rebounder. Based on his bestseller status, he’s got to be loaded. He can whisk you away to the remote mountain cabin where he writes all of his books and?—”
“Hold up.” I grip her shoulders, willing her to take this—my heart on the line—seriously. “I’m super excited to meet him, but when I say I’m going to have to get over Jake, aren’t you supposed to assure me things could work out?”
“Things could work out,” she repeats.
“You don’t believe it.” I wish I could say I’m surprised, but…
“I don’t know that Jake Byrne knows how to do a relationship, and you’re not exactly an expert, so the two of you together, well?—”
“You don’t even know if Spencer Charles is hot. He could be ninety years old with a stoop and a cane.”
“He writes like he’s hot,” she says. “Plus, there’s the whole mystery writer mystique…I’m pretty sure he’s hot. Or maybe disfigured, like the Beast.”
“Except Beauty and the Beast isn’t my vibe,” I tell her. “You’re the one with the library of books, skipping and singing through the town.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve got exactly zero interest in romance, unlike some people I know.”
She cups my face in her small hands. “Whether or not it works out with Spencie, you aren’t going to have your heart broken by Jake Byrne.”
My heart feels like a lead weight in my chest, but I wiggle my hips and manage a grin. “Jake Byrne who? I’m meeting Spencer Charles tonight. This is one of my dreams come true, even if he is a wrinkled old man.”
“I’m all about dreams.” My friend sounds delighted with herself, which she should.
“Thank you for making it happen. Talk about the cherry on my fun sundae. Whoever goes next in the bucket list challenge is going to have some pretty big shoes to fill.”
Sloane grins. “You went all out. I’m proud of you, Iris.” Her eyes gleam as she studies me more closely. “Am I going to make you cry?”
I laugh and press a finger to the corner of my eye. “Is that your goal?”
“No sad tears, but I like you in your feelings.”
“I have a lot of them these days,” I admit.
I should tell Sloane about my plans and the potential of moving to Seattle, but I don’t want this moment and tonight to be overshadowed by anything. Something else I’ve learned about true fun during my foray into it? Fun is easier when you stay in the moment instead of worrying about the past or the future. It’s not an easy task, but I’m getting better at it every day.
I walk Sloane out, then turn to Jodi, who’s staring at me from her desk. I can’t decide whether it’s judgment or empathy in her gaze.
“So…lunch with Daniel? That seemed cozy.”
She sniffs and pretends to examine her nails. “I see you trying to change the subject, but it was a business lunch.” She points to the brown paper bag on the corner of her desk. “He brought a sandwich for you as well.”
“I thought the two of you went on a date the other night?”
“Yeah, and it was amazing. But he didn’t kiss me at the end of it.”
“Maybe he was being a gentleman?”
“Maybe he realized he can do better.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“We’ll see,” she says with a flick of her wrist. Although she sounds casual, there’s something more in her eyes. But I’m in no position to judge somebody’s fears or insecurities when I’m full-up dealing with my own.
“Stop trying to distract me,” she says with a soft laugh. “Are you really going to pull out of the race?”
I nod. “It’s the right thing to do.”
Her eyes narrow. “For whom?”
“Me, I hope.” I can’t tell her what’s prompting this decision, but appreciate that she doesn’t probe for more, even though I can tell she wants to.
“I’ll miss you, Iris.” She shrugs. “I’ve gotten used to your porcupine energy.”
“I’ll miss you keeping me on my toes,” I answer with a smile. “Will you text me your cousin’s contact information? I want to talk to him before I make an official announcement.”
“Of course.”
“I’m sure this will make everyone in your family happy. Will you be okay working with your cousin?”
She makes a face. “I’ll be turning in my resignation when Joey takes office.”
“Seriously?” I’m shocked. “Why?”
“Me working in the mayor’s office is what my family wants—what my mom expects. Maybe it’s part of our family’s legacy. But it’s not my dream.”
“What is your dream?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“I’m going to go to aesthetician school,” she answers, her voice an unexpected mix of nerves and excitement. “I’ve been thinking about it for years, and it’s time.”
“Good for you,” I murmur, a little bit dazed at this conversation. “Will your family support you?”
She laughs, but there’s an edge to it. “My mom won’t be thrilled, but I’m done letting other people decide what my life should look like.”
Her words reverberate through my chest, a warmth spreading outward until it pulses through my body like electricity. Me too, I add silently, not wanting to take anything from Jodi’s moment.
She doesn’t need my approval, but I’m proud of her—and a little jealous if I’m being honest. “Good for you.”
“You can do it, too,” she assures me. “Make whatever you want happen. You just need to figure out what it is.”
I’m not sure I deserve her confidence, but I grab hold of it like a lifeline. My heart beats faster—not in panic, but with yearning. And a flare of hope. If Jodi can fight for her dreams, maybe I can too.