The Heartbreaker of Echo Pass, page 19
“I’m going to talk to him. I’m going to not say the word sex to him.”
Iris walked up the stairs, and stomped into the house, where she was greeted by overly enthusiastic dogs. “You’re menaces,” she said, but she petted them on the heads before sending them outside. And there was Ryder. She could see him through the kitchen doorway, sitting at the table.
“Hi,” she said.
He turned sharply, his expression fierce. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Out of cell range?”
“Right. Obviously. Except, you also could have been dead in a ditch.”
“You’re not my dad, quit doing an impersonation of him.”
“Someone has to.”
Suddenly, she just felt sad. Sad and overwhelmed, because there were all these tragedies, and she couldn’t seem to escape them. Her own. Griffin’s. Ryder couldn’t either. It was why he was acting this way, because he hadn’t known the whereabouts of his adult sister for a day.
Granted, some of that was that it was out of character. Out of routine. And of course that mattered. Of course that made a difference.
But still. She just felt sad. For all of them.
“Well, I’m here. I’m not dead in a ditch. Nothing’s wrong. But I do need to talk to you.”
“What do you need to talk to me about?”
“I’m moving out. Officially. I’m going to be living in the apartment above the bakery. I didn’t know if Rose mentioned it to you, or Pansy. But I did already talk to them a little bit about it.”
“You don’t have to move out,” he said.
“I know I don’t have to. I love being here. In that I love being with you. And Sammy. And Astrid. But you all have lives, and I don’t.”
“This is a life, Iris. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed. I’m not. But I am ready. To figure out what else there is for me. And I don’t think that’s unfair.”
“Of course it’s not.”
“I’m just trying to figure things out. You know. My life.”
“Of course.”
“And that is going to include being out of cell phone range sometimes,” she said slowly.
“You met someone, I take it.”
She nodded. “I might have.”
“Your boss? Landlord? Whatever he is.”
“Griffin,” she said. “And... I guess. But I wouldn’t think of him primarily in that way.”
“Just tell me you’re being careful.” Which could mean a host of things, but he was choosing his wording very carefully, and so was she.
“You’re not going to have to give me away any time soon if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“That doesn’t worry me. If that’s what you want, I would love to do that. If it’s not what you want, then I won’t do it. Whatever you want to do.”
“I know that. I know that I always have your support.”
She stood there and stared at him, the brother who’d also been a father figure. Who she’d partnered with to try and keep the whole family sane when they had endured such an unimaginable loss. Their relationship would always be so heavy. There was no way around it. They’d been through too much. They would always care an awful lot about what the other was going through. Again, inevitable. They had just been through so damn much.
She sat down at the table across from him, suddenly feeling very small. “How long did it take you to figure out what you wanted to do with your life?”
“Until about a year ago,” he said.
She laughed. “Well, that’s not very comforting.”
“It’s true, though. Things came together when I married Sammy. Started coaching the football team again. Just brought some things back in my life that I had decided I didn’t get to have.”
“Because you threw everything into taking care of us.”
“Yes. But I know you did that too. And it’s going to take you a while, to sort through everything. And if this isn’t it, it’s going to come along. You don’t need to feel pressure to know exactly what you want.”
“I don’t, actually. I just kind of want to know that everything’s going to be okay. Because this is all a lot of big changes for me, and I feel a little bit overwhelmed by it. Because I forgot what it was like to have dreams. And when I finally did again, I got a little bit more than I bargained for. I’m trying to plan ahead, but I don’t know how to plan any of this.”
“Focus on the bakery,” he said. “I’m damn proud of you. It’s going to be amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“You all did good,” Ryder said. “And you have no idea how much that means. Because I was sad when Mom and Dad died. And I worried a hell of a lot for myself. But I just... Parents worry for their kids. Parents who are adults when they’re raising them. And I was just so conscious that I was nothing more than a kid trying to make sure you all did okay. Trying to make sure you got to the other side safely. You’re also much more amazing than I could’ve guessed you would be. And my life is a hell of a lot better that I thought it would be. And there’s been stuff. You know, like dealing with my relationship with Sammy. Logan and Rose...”
“Were you really mad when they got together?”
He shook his head. “No. I was mad when Logan nearly ruined it. They love each other. That’s so obvious.”
“It is,” she said. “You both make it look easy.”
Ryder laughed. “Not easy. I don’t know if you remember me growling around here like a bear when Sammy and I were trying to sort out what the hell our lives were going to look like. When we were trying to sort out how to be together. And Logan nearly ruined everything with Rose. It’s not easy.”
“Well, all the more reason for me to avoid it.”
“Good luck to you.”
She laughed, feeling hollow. “Thank you. I might need help moving.”
“Oh. Is that really what this whole conversation is about? Let’s have a heart-to-heart, can I borrow your truck?”
“Kind of.” She smiled, unrepentant. And he smiled right back.
“I suppose I can help you with that.”
“Very appreciated, big brother.”
“No problem, little sister.”
And she looked at him, and felt more like an equal than she ever had before. Like another person who had a life, and a future ahead of them, even if she didn’t know what it was. But he didn’t seem quite so much more older than her. She smiled. “The bakery is going to open next week.”
“Really?”
“I mean, I’m being kind of optimistic. I have to make sure all of my permits come through, but I’m expecting the last one in a couple of days.”
“That’s fantastic. Are you going to have a grand opening event?”
“I thought that I might. The weekend after opening. I’ll do a little soft open, see what people are liking best, and tailor it all to go with the big party.”
“Well, you know we’ll all be there. And we’ll help in any way we can. Because that’s what Danielses do.”
“Damn straight,” Iris said.
She stood and turned, preparing to leave the room. “Iris,” Ryder said.
“Yes?”
“If you’re going to go out of cell range for more than twenty-four hours, next time can you give me a heads-up?”
“Can’t I just hang a tie on the door?”
“You’re moving,” he said. “So... I guess actually I probably won’t know.”
“Yeah. Things change.”
“They surely do.”
And after having been through many changes in her life that were bad. That had signaled a change in things that she couldn’t fix, or even comprehend. This kind of change seemed good. Life moving forward as it was supposed to.
“Better late than never,” she whispered as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom for what she thought might be the last time.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HE HAD ANOTHER voice mail from Mallory. And he was going to answer it sooner than he had been. He got up on the rock, and as soon as he had bars, dialed the number.
“Well, this is a surprise. Contact less than two weeks apart.”
“Yeah. I’ve got... Well, I just wanted to make sure you were well.”
“You wanted to make sure I was well?”
“Yes.”
“I am. Thank you for asking.”
“How’s the practice, by the way?”
“Hmm. Complicated. You know, you wouldn’t think that midwives would have a whole lot of inner office politics, but sadly, there are some.”
“Is Rain taking the good birthing suite and all the good vibes too?”
“Can you not?”
“I mean, I can try not to. But it’s fun.”
“How come you still act like an immature brat when we get into having a normal conversation?”
“Because that’s a normal conversation.”
“You sound better.”
He looked around through the trees. He put in a few hours on the house today, but the work hadn’t felt quite so compulsive. It was strange, because he had imagined that telling Iris all about his past might make it all feel raw. Closer to the surface. But it hadn’t been like that. Not really. Yes, it was there. But hadn’t brought nightmares up any more ferociously than they’d been before. If anything, things had felt a little bit better. He breathed a bit easier.
“I like cookies,” he said. Then he realized that sounded ridiculous.
“You...like cookies?”
“It’s been a long time since I...liked anything.”
The silence stretched out between them on the phone. “Griff,” she said, and he could tell that her voice was thick with tears. “That is the best news.”
“It’s pretty good.”
“Really. And thank you for calling me.”
She told him a little bit more about the drama at the birthing center she worked at before they got off the phone, and there was something so aggressively normal about it all, that when he hung up he felt... Strangely light.
But then, he had. Ever since he had spent that day with Iris. He hadn’t seen her since. He imagined that she’d been busy.
Which was fine by him. But he was starting to wonder... Starting to wonder what he should do. Because he wanted to see her again. And he didn’t want to wait for her to come back up here.
It made him wonder if he needed to go to her.
He’d done it once before. Come down the mountain to repair that plumbing problem she had.
But she called him. It was different.
He meandered back down the path that led to the housing site and surveyed his progress. It was slow. But by design. There was no way to do a project like this by yourself and have it go quickly. Building this house had felt like action for a long time. He had never been one to sit around doing nothing, even when everything was terrible. There was always something to be done.
But he wanted to do something else. There was something else to do. And that, he supposed, was a gift.
One thing he’d always been was a man who knew what he wanted, and who took steps to get it.
But he’d been a whole lot of nothing for the last few years.
And at the point where he had no idea why he was still standing there with his hammer in his hand, rather than heading down the mountain to see the woman that he wanted to see, he figured he had better get going. Because he wanted to see Iris Daniels. And so he would.
Because life was short and uncertain, but he was breathing.
So he might as well do something with that breath.
* * *
HE DROVE DOWN the mountain, and things seemed a bit brighter. Once he was on the main street, he found that he felt hopeful. An experience he was no longer familiar with. When he pulled up to the bakery, he saw her through the window, standing on a chair and fiddling with what he thought might be a light fixture.
There was a sign hanging out front that read The Cookie Jar.
She’d mentioned that was the name. But he’d forgotten to ask her about it.
He got out of the truck, and walked up to the front door. She turned sharply, her eyes going wide, and then she scrambled down from the chair and went to the door.
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to see you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I thought...”
“I’ve been here before.”
He stepped past her and made his way into the bakery. “I know,” she said. “I just...”
“You just what?”
“I sort of thought that... I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to come down.”
“There is a time for everything. And I’ve been avoiding the reality of that.”
“Oh.”
“I wanted to see you. And I couldn’t think of any reason why I shouldn’t.”
“You wanted to see me?”
“I did. And I was standing up there, working on my house, thinking about you, and didn’t see why you shouldn’t be right in front of me.”
Because she could be. That was the thing. She was here and so was he. So why waste any time?
“Well, I’m glad you did.”
But she didn’t make any move to kiss him, and he wondered if there was someone from her family around.
“Is anyone else here?”
“No. I’m all alone. Just getting some last-minute things done. My permits are all in, and I think I’m just going to open in a couple of days.”
“Really? No grand opening?”
“My brother asked me the same thing. But I figured I would do a soft open and see how things go. And then...”
“Make sure that I know when your grand opening is.” Except, as soon as he said that, he realized he wasn’t going to give her an opportunity to make any other choice. He was going to be there. He was going to be around. And he was going to make sure that he knew what was happening with the business. First of all, her business was linked with him, and that meant he should be engaging in that. Second of all, he wanted to know what was going on with her life.
And much like the horse ride he’d invited her on, he wasn’t going to do much worrying about why. He was just going to be in it.
“I like the sign,” he said. “Like the name.”
“Thank you. I... My mom always had cookies made.” Her expression wrinkled, just for a moment. A small ripple of sadness that quickly vanished. “I like cookies.”
“I noticed that.”
She got a very sad, wistful look on her face, and he couldn’t quite figure out why. “Does it make you sad? To think about her?”
“Not all the time. I mean, really not. She’s been gone from my life for longer than I had her in it. That makes me sad. And sometimes thinking about the cookies makes me sad. It’s just that you think you have all the time in the world to change things with people.” She shook her head. “When she died, my younger sisters were really small. They were a handful, I mean they were little kids. And I was fourteen and things were changing in my life and I wanted... It doesn’t really matter. It’s just, I always wonder how it would have been if I’d known. It’s just you always think you have forever, so much time. Until you realize you don’t.”
“That’s the nature of loss,” he said. “You have all kinds of perspective afterward. On what matters. On what you wish you would’ve done differently. Believe me. I have truckloads of perspective and nothing to do with it. And you know, you can share that with other people, try to pass it on, try to make sure that they maybe live their lives with a little bit more thought, but until they experience loss, they won’t. Not permanently. And anyway, grief skews perspective. That’s something I’ve learned. It makes the air seem thick and your head seem fuzzy. And how do you fight through it to figure out which part of the perspective you’re supposed to keep? I’ve been in a grief monastery, but I don’t know that it’s benefited anyone. I know how important the people were that I lost. I know it down to my bones. I couldn’t have any more perspective on that. But when it comes to perspective on living... Well, I’ve been pretty short on that.”
“Me too,” she said. “I wish that I wasn’t. I wish that I hadn’t spent so much time hiding myself away. I guess. I don’t know, though. I talked to my brother a couple days ago. And he said it took him until last year to figure himself out, so... I’m four years younger. I guess I still have more perspective than he does. Or, at least, had.”
“Well, there you go. You’ve got time.”
“Opening this bakery is going to take a lot of time and energy. Plus, I’m still working up at your house...”
“Iris,” he said. “Are you about to warn me off? Let me down gently?”
“I don’t want to let you down,” she said. “By which I mean I don’t... I mean... Well, I would like to keep... Doing what we’re doing. I just...”
“Honey, you don’t need to give me the talk about what this is.”
“I don’t?”
“Being with you makes me feel good. And I didn’t think that anything could. Not a damn thing, Iris. I haven’t felt good in a long time. But that’s all it is. It’s just feeling good. It’s not really...”
“It’s not really your heart.”
“There’s nothing left of that.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “There’s a lot left of it. I know. I’ve seen it. But I get what you mean. And no worries. I’m in love with my bakery. That’s the most important thing to me.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“But I would like to keep having sex.” She looked around, like she was afraid she might get caught. “Because I do really like that.”
“Well, very glad to hear that.” He rubbed his chin and looked around the room. “All things considered, I don’t need you to come up and bring me meals anymore.”
