Chapter Thirty-One
“Why are you so nervous?” Anya asked as Iris fumbled her purse.
“I’m not nervous,” she replied too quickly, too loudly, and punctuated by the sound of her bag hitting the floor. She grimaced and ducked to retrieve it.
Anya snorted. “Sure you’re not.”
It had, perhaps, not been Iris’ most convincing lie.
She’d been experiencing full-body butterflies every time she’d seen Barrett since their almost-but-not-quite-a-date at Tea and Sympathy.
It put an interesting spin on trying to get work done.
Although, she had to admit she’d enjoyed the way Barrett had met her eyes with a smoldering gaze after Iris had finished a particularly tense call with Mr. McMillan.
Apparently, Barrett liked watching her tell people ‘no’ in her sternest, most professional voice.
Iris had stored that away to think about later.
She’d neither figured it out nor stopped thinking about it.
Iris cleared her throat, leading the way from her building and to the bar they were meeting the others at.
When Barrett had first suggested inviting Anya too, in some sort of ‘meet the friends even though we haven’t told them we’re officially dating’ situation, Iris had wondered whether it might be awkward.
Now, she was particularly glad she didn’t have to walk in alone.
Sure, she knew Barrett—increasingly intimately—and Ruby and Deepti well enough, but she’d never met anyone else who would be there.
And Barrett would absolutely have met her so she didn’t have to walk in alone, but she was trying not to seem too clingy or needy.
Foolish, probably, given everything she and Barrett had talked about, but she couldn’t help it.
Old habits died hard. And she really wanted Barrett, and Barrett’s friends, to think she was cool.
She was nervous. About seeing Barrett, about meeting her friends again, about introducing Anya to them all, and about the fact that this was the two of them taking the first step to merging their two friend groups.
That was kind of a big deal. Even if Iris only currently had one real friend to bring to the table.
Jemma had gotten more insistent lately that Iris talk to her. She knew she should. Ignoring all of them wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the things she hadn’t told Jemma got them into this position in the first place. She just didn’t know how.
“Have you been to this place before?” she asked Anya, needing something else to fix her mind on.
“No, but it’s been on my list.” She grinned. “And, if a bartender is picking the location, better believe I’m trusting them to know the good spots.”
Iris nodded, considering. It was a good point.
She hadn’t given Deepti’s job much thought, honestly.
Not since meeting her, at least. They’d just been Deepti, Ruby’s girlfriend and fellow Oscar admirer.
Iris liked them. And that was another reason to be nervous.
She was seeing what happened when her friendship group was interwoven with her romantic relationships.
Natasha had always promised she’d take that group if Iris left her, and here she was doing exactly that.
What was the point in getting to know Barrett’s friends if it was all just going to go the same way?
“I was talking about it to some people at work on Friday,” Anya continued, somewhat pulling Iris out of her swirling thoughts. “A couple of them have been and loved it.”
It was only then that Iris really considered that Anya and Em worked at the same place.
They weren’t in the same department, but she wondered whether it was awkward.
The question lingered on the tip of her tongue for a long moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
Asking meant pressure, even if it was only the pressure she’d put on herself.
Anya had made it perfectly clear she was on Iris’ side in this whole thing.
However, if Iris knew she was making things awkward for Anya at work, she’d never be able to forgive herself and she’d feel bound to fix things with Jemma so things with Em could be fixed, and that would mean…
accepting that Jemma was dating Natasha and had sprung it on her unceremoniously.
Swallowing felt hard, an unpleasant lump sprouting up in the middle of her chest. She couldn’t do it.
She couldn’t forgive Natasha for what she’d done and she couldn’t forgive her for going after Jemma.
Sure, Jemma was an adult and could make her own decisions, but Natasha knew the whole story.
She’d been there for every horrifying detail and she should have known better.
When someone left a situation like that, you were supposed to leave them and all their friends alone.
It was not an invitation to date one of their best friends and blow up their life.
But then, Natasha had never required an invite to feel entitled to everything Iris had.
She flexed her hands, attempting to press down the unpleasant feeling coursing around her body.
Apparently unaware of Iris’ crisis, Anya let out a low whistle and said, “So… you look nice.”
“Thank you?”
She laughed. “You’re welcome.”
“You do too.” It was true, even if their styles were polar opposites from one another.
“I know.”
“Right…” Iris had expected as much. She did not, however, know what Anya was actually getting at.
“And you’ve had a good weekend so far?”
“Yeah, not bad. You?”
“Yeah, great. I went thrifting with my mom and three of her friends yesterday. Two of them—do you remember Joanie and Farrah?”
“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Iris had met them at an event once. She’d definitely recognize them if they were in front of her, but, from memory, she was pretty sure she was mixing parts of them up with some of the others she’d met there.
“Joanie’s got incredible hair, always worn in a massive blow out, and Farrah’s got no hair.”
“Ah, yes.” Iris paused. “What about them?”
“They’re giving women a go.”
Iris’ mind stalled. “A go at what?”
Anya laughed. “Sex.”
It wasn’t new information that Anya and her mom were incredibly open with one another—something Iris had never been able to even picture doing with her own mom—but it was new that her mother’s friends were equally as open.
“Sex? With women?” Iris asked. She, obviously, understood the concept but she wasn’t quite following the conversation.
Anya hummed. “Yeah, we inspired them, apparently.”
“We’re not having sex.”
“I’m aware,” she cackled. “But, apparently, they’ve enjoyed meeting all us young queers and they were both curious, so they just decided to go for it.”
“With each other?”
“Yep.”
“Wow. Good on them.” Iris pursed her lips.
They’d both lost husbands a while back she remembered them saying, but it wasn’t like they’d necessarily have been in a position when they were younger to test out if they were bisexual.
There was something incredibly beautiful about them doing so now they were in their seventies.
“They aren’t worried about it messing up their friendship? ”
“Nah.” Anya scoffed like the idea was ridiculous. “They said they’re old enough and know enough about the value of a good friend that, if it didn’t work out, they’d get over it and go back to being friends. But, if the way they were both smiling was anything to go by, it seems to be going well.”
Iris smiled. Maybe she needed to be a bit more like Joanie and Farrah and a little less like… her most anxious self. “Is it a relationship or just sex?”
“Just sex right now, but they’re pretty relaxed about it becoming something else.”
“Huh. Maybe that’s what happens when you get older and really just… figure out what life’s all about.”
Anya looked her over, her eyes narrowed and knowing. “You can figure out right now that the things that bring you joy are worth holding onto. They call us the young ones, but we’re not that young.”
“Still young enough to fuck it all up.”
“Anyone, of any age, can fuck stuff up. Watch, when we’re ninety, I’ll still be running around fucking shit up.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
She bowed exaggeratedly as they walked, laughing as people swerved around her.
Anya continued to be completely herself.
Iris had been drawn towards her energy from the very first moment they met.
She was so many things Iris wasn’t, and that she wished she could be.
Of course, underneath it all, she suspected she and Anya might still be quite different people, but it was the sense of self she admired.
Anya’s bravery and shamelessness were such huge parts of her.
She’d always credited her mom for being completely open to whoever her child turned out to be.
Iris couldn’t really empathize with that experience but she loved hearing about it from Anya, and she was grateful to have both of them in her life.
Of course, Barrett was similar to Anya in a lot of ways, and she hadn’t made it there because of her mother, more in spite of her mom. It gave Iris hope that she’d one day make it to the exact person she wished she could be.
Perhaps it wasn’t even a destination that existed.
Joanie and Farrah were almost twice her age and just figuring out new parts of themselves and they still seemed happy.
Maybe it was just about finding the people you wanted around you for the journey, the ones who saw and encouraged you, the ones who wanted you to be everything you dreamed of.
Barrett and Anya felt like that. Ruby and Deepti too, maybe.
Iris didn’t want to get too attached to people she barely knew who might not want her in their lives, but they’d insisted Barrett invite her to this celebration, and they’d invited Anya too.
They seemed like good people, ones Iris wanted in her life.