Chapter Twenty-Three
The next day, Sunday, the thirtieth of December, Iris was behind the counter at Dreamspinner ringing up a sale when, if Blue Moon Air was on schedule, Julian would be boarding his flight to Vancouver. After he left her place last night, she’d texted him:
I’m sorry, Julian. Sorry if I hurt you. Sorry I can’t be who you want me to be.
His reply was brief:
You are.
In other words, he rejected her point of view. That annoyed her, and yet she wouldn’t believe that this was the end. The friendship they shared was stronger than that. She’d give it some time, and then try again.
The store’s front door opened and Eden entered, followed by Miranda.
Miranda? The day after her wedding? The pair strode side by side toward her like an invading army determined to take no prisoners.
“I know you and Luke are saving your honeymoon for spring,” Iris said to Miranda, “but didn’t you at least get today to be alone together?”
“Until a dog broke its leg,” she said, sounding philosophical. “I married a vet. Animals come first.”
“Of course they don’t,” Eden said. “You and the kids come first. It’s just that the dog had a more urgent need.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “I actually do know that. Doesn’t mean I’m not above whining.” To Iris, she said, “I called Eden and told her she had to take me for lunch and buy me a C-Shell cocktail. And now I’m telling you, you have to join us. Bride’s prerogative. Since I can’t have Luke right now, I get whatever else I want.”
Usually, Iris enjoyed her friends’ banter, but today she was too darned tired and depressed. She was about to find an excuse, when Aunt Lily came over, stepped behind the counter, and nudged her aside. “Go with your friends for lunch. I have this covered.” Her manner was brisk and professional, but her soft eyes conveyed concern.
“Fine,” Iris muttered, and then gave herself a mental whack upside the head. She should count her blessings for having such an understanding aunt, and wonderful friends. Practice mindfulness. Live in the moment. Celebrate all the positive things life has to offer.
Feeling maybe an iota better, she summoned a smile. “I’ll get my coat.”
“And umbrella,” Eden said. “It’s slushing out.”
Oh, great. Iris liked snow, so rare here and so crystalline and pure. Having grown up on the West Coast, she also quite enjoyed the rain. But that in-between mixture was depressing. A perfect match to her mood. No, wait, she was supposed to be looking at the positives. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She went to the office to gather her things. Julian’s guitar pick was safely tucked inside a zipped pocket in her purse. Maybe she should return it, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with it.
Outside, she and her friends unfurled their umbrellas and dashed down the block and across the street, dodging puddles and clumps of melting snow. Inside C-Shell, Rachelle showed them to a window table and gave them menus. “Today’s special is cream of mushroom soup, with a blend of wild mushrooms and herbs. It’s classy comfort food.”
Iris, who had no appetite, didn’t open the menu, sipping water while the others perused theirs. Their server, Jonah, a university-student cousin of Rachelle’s, came over. Iris ordered the mushroom soup and so did Eden. Miranda stifled a yawn and ordered a crab-and-cheese-melt panini, along with a salad. And a C-Shell cocktail.
After Jonah had gone, Eden said, “Miranda, that’s a lot of food. Did you skip breakfast?”
“No, I just seem to be starving all the time these days.” She yawned again.
Eden studied her intently. “You aren’t pregnant, are you?”
Iris watched curiously as Miranda frowned and said, “I just got married.”
Eden snorted. “And the relevance of that is . . . ?”
“Uh, yeah, you’re right. But . . . pregnant . . . I mean, we’ll probably have another kid or two. We’ve talked about it but figured we’d wait awhile.”
“Birth control?” Eden asked.
“I have an implant.”
“No method’s one hundred percent reliable,” Eden said. “Except, of course, no fooling around at all, which I know doesn’t apply to you and Luke.”
“Things have been so crazy this month,” Miranda said. “I lost track of when my period’s due.” She rubbed her fingers across her forehead. “No, wait . . . When we picked the wedding date, I calculated timing so my period would be over by then, but I never got that period. So I’m overdue by almost two weeks.” Her blue eyes widened. “Oh, wow. I could be pregnant.”
A pang of envy made Iris wince. What must it feel like to be in a secure, loving relationship and have a baby on the way? Would she ever have that experience?
Julian had mentioned having children . . .
“Are you okay with that?” Eden asked.
Iris jerked in her seat, and then realized Eden’s gaze was on her sister-in-law’s face.
“Yeah.” A grin took over Miranda’s mouth, bit by bit. “Yeah, definitely. Luke will be, too, if it’s true. I’ll buy a test at the pharmacy.”
Jonah arrived and placed a frothy peach-colored cocktail in front of Miranda. She gazed longingly at it and then, after he left, shoved it away. “Eden, Iris?”
Eden raised both hands. “Wish I could, but I’m driving.”
“Iris, please? Let me at least enjoy watching someone drink it.”
Iris pretty much only ever drank wine. But today... “Why not?” She raised the martini glass and took a sip. “Wow, I see why you like these.” Mostly, the drink tasted of mixed fruit juices, but there was an herbal undertone and a subtle alcoholic bite that warmed her tummy.
“If I’m not pregnant, I’m so going to regret that,” Miranda said. “Okay, now I don’t want to think about it anymore, not until I know one way or the other.” Another yawn had her raising her hand to cover her mouth. “Change of subject,” she said. “It’s nice to see Island Realty shut down. I sure hope Jelinek confesses and gets sent to jail for life.”
“I talked to the Crown Prosecutor,” Eden said. “She’s committed to getting justice. She thinks Jelinek’s lawyer will advise him to plea bargain. If so, this could all be over soon. She said she’ll insist on at least five years in prison, which—”
“Five years?” Iris broke in. “That’s not long enough.”
“It sure isn’t!” Miranda said.
“I know,” Eden agreed. “But it’s in line with sentences for similar offenses.”
They all sighed. Then Eden said, “If there’s a plea bargain, the victims won’t have to testify. And they won’t have this hanging over their heads for months, if not years. So there’s the bright side.”
“True,” Miranda said. “Though I’d liked to have seen Jelinek take the stand and try to explain how he thought that abusing boys was an act of love.”
Iris grimaced, and Eden said, “The strange thing is, he seems so normal.”
“Which is how he got away with it all these years,” Iris said. “That and his stellar reputation and influential position in the community.”
“I know,” Eden said. “He actually has done a lot of good for the island. He was the driving force behind a number of initiatives, like the medical clinic, new equipment for the fire department, bringing the Al-Khouris here from Syria. I guess it’s rare to find a person who’s totally evil.”
“Yes, he’s leaving a mixed legacy,” Iris said. “A number of good things, but also horrendous damage to the boys he chose as his victims. And their families.” She pressed her lips together. “He’ll be a model prisoner. He’ll start up some great programs among the inmates. He’ll get out early, for good behavior. And the first thing he’ll do is look for some innocent, vulnerable boy.” She grabbed her glass and took a healthy slug of the cocktail.
“Crap,” Miranda said. “I’m afraid you’re right.”
Eden said, “Bear in mind, he’ll be on the National Sex Offender Registry, so he’ll be required to report regularly to the police.”
“Where he’ll snow them with his charm,” Iris said cynically. “There’s never a happy ending to a situation like this, is there?”
“If he’s declared a high-risk sex offender,” Eden said, “one who’s likely to reoffend, then a public warning may be issued. And there’ll be restrictions on his release, like not being allowed near places where kids hang out.”
“Someone should just castrate the bastard,” Miranda said. “Hey, maybe that’ll happen in prison.”
They stared glumly at each other until Jonah brought their meals and wished them bon appétit.
Eden picked up her soupspoon. “On a happier note, Glory’s been getting loads of feedback on the book club, Iris. The first meeting was such a big hit, a lot more seniors want to sign up. Glory wanted me to ask if you can handle another half dozen.”
Iris tried to summon the energy to be happy about this development. “Sure. I think that’ll work. If we get too much bigger, though, we might need to break it into two separate groups.”
“They do know,” Miranda said, pausing in attacking her crab melt, “that Julian won’t be there, right?” Before Eden could answer, she went on. “And speaking of Julian—”
Iris broke in before she could finish the thought. “How’s Glory? Did she have a good Christmas?” She’d enjoyed working with Glory and getting to know her a bit better.
Eden exchanged a meaningful glance with Miranda and said, “She’s okay. Going through a bit of a post-Christmas letdown, though.”
“That’s too bad.” Obviously, her friends knew something that she didn’t, and she respected that they’d guard Glory’s privacy. She was concerned, though. Maybe one day she’d invite Glory for coffee, or offer to babysit Gala so Glory and Brent could have a date night.
“Speaking of letdown,” Miranda said, “how are you feeling, Iris? With Julian back in Vancouver?”
It wasn’t nosiness; it was concern, just like Iris felt for Glory. So yes, she’d tell her friends. She could use a little commiseration and a couple of sympathy hugs.
“I miss him already, but I knew that would happen. What really bothers me is that we parted on a sour note, after a disagreement. So I’m not sure how things will go, from here on.”
“A disagreement?” Eden said.
“Well, first we confessed that we love each other”—a fact that still amazed her, but evoked knowing expressions from her two friends—“and then Julian said he’d like us to be together. Really together. But I can’t. I’m not strong enough to handle the lifestyle that being with Julian would entail.”
Miranda stopped eating but didn’t put down her fork. “You know the title of the song Julian dedicated to me? ‘You’re Better than You Think’? Well, in my not-so-humble opinion, you’re stronger than you think, Iris.”
“When you and I first got to know each other,” Iris said, “I remember telling you how brave I thought you were. You said that when I fell in love, I’d find out I was braver than I think. But you were wrong, Miranda. I’m still a pathetic mess of quivering nerves.”
“Sure.”
Her quick agreement raised Iris’s brows. “Then I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“I mean that we’re all, sometimes, a pathetic mess of quivering nerves. Like Eden said about that mock trial thing in law school.”
Eden put down her soupspoon. “Yes. And with Mom’s cancer. Every time she sees the doctor and gets blood tests, I’m terrified. But whatever happens, we’ll face it as a family. We’ll be weak together and strong together and we’ll get through it.”
“Which is what courage is really about,” Miranda said. “It’s not about being fearless, it’s about sucking it up and dealing.”
“You know that Tao of Pooh book we read for the book club?” Eden asked. “There was something in it about courage that stuck with me. That it comes from caring and compassion.”
“I know,” Iris whispered.
“That fits perfectly, with my family,” Eden said. “And for you, too, Iris, standing up for Julian when he told the truth about Jelinek. Miranda’s right, you sucked up your fear because you cared for Julian. And you cared about what might happen to other boys.”
“So if you want to be with him, then go for it,” Miranda said. “And if you don’t, well, you need to do what feels right for you.”
“I agree,” Iris said. “And that’s what I’m doing.”
“Really? It feels right to be separated from Julian?” Eden queried. “When Aaron and I fell for each other, and I was in Ottawa and he was here, it felt all wrong to be apart.”
Nothing felt right today. This morning, Dreamspinner’d been a bright and happy place with tons of customers, but Iris had felt removed from it, like she was going through the motions. The store might be cheery and wrapped in festive trappings, but her mind and heart were smothered by a fog of melancholy. Even this lunch with her girlfriends, something she’d normally revel in, felt like another task she needed to get through before she could eventually go to bed and dream of Julian.
She was trying to follow the December advice on her calendar and keep her mind even, but in fact she felt seriously out of balance. More so than ever before, even in the stressful years at UVic.
Staring down at her barely touched soup, she said, “I was always content with who I was. I would read my romance novels and believe that one day a man would come along who saw me as I see myself, not perfect but special in my own way, and he’d fall in love with that person.”
Flicking a glance upward she saw her friends watching her intently. Their expressions told her there were things they wanted to say, but they were holding back, giving her an opportunity to go on. So she did. “Julian did that. To my amazement.”
Miranda’s firm nod almost made her smile, but her lips didn’t have the energy. “In a good romance story,” Iris said, “each lover faces almost insurmountable challenges. Challenges that test them, that make them examine their fears and frailties. They find courage they’d never known they possessed and they forge ahead, they grow into stronger, better people. People who deserve and win love. Eden, Miranda, that’s what happened in your relationships, isn’t it?”
Miranda nodded, and Eden said, “Yes, but isn’t that also what’s happened with you and Julian? I can’t think of a much bigger challenge than him coming to terms with the abuse he suffered, and bringing Jelinek’s crimes to light.”
Iris nodded emphatically. “Exactly. Julian had to be strong to survive, and then he had to be strong again when he ripped the scar off the old wounds and told the world that a highly respected man was in fact a pedophile. Julian has faced the challenges life’s thrown him, and grown stronger.” She closed her eyes for a moment. He had overcome his deep-seated mistrust and learned to love, and look how she’d responded. “He’s a hero and he needs a true heroine, not a wimp who’s scared to talk to strangers.”
“You are his heroine,” Miranda said. “Have you seen that video of you?”
Iris shook her head. “You see? I don’t even have the guts to watch it.”
“Watch it,” Eden said. “See yourself the way others see you.”
Iris narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what they meant.
“You’re fierce,” Miranda said. “In a totally classy way. Fierce and strong. You should have your own dragon tattoo.”
The very notion of having her body inked brought another almost-smile.
“Not a dragon,” Eden said. “An iris. A flower that looks delicate, but in fact stands bravely on its narrow stalk, maybe bending with the wind but not breaking, always showing that lovely, serene face to the world.”
Miranda nodded.
Iris was flattered that they saw her this way. But they were wrong. Weren’t they?
* * *
“Before I forget,” Aunt Lily said that night, “your mother is working on next year’s calendar for the store.” Lily, in yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee, was curled up in a chair in the living room of their apartment, her feet tucked up under her. Iris, dressed similarly, was on the couch, her bare feet up on the coffee table.
Lily had worked the evening shift, and now they were relaxing with a glass of wine. Music played softly, Grandmother Rose’s favorite old LP on the turntable: Ricky Nelson, a singer who’d been a teen heartthrob in the late 1950s and early ’60s.
“She wants to book our trip to Japan,” Aunt Lily went on, “so she can schedule around it. Not during spring break or over a holiday weekend, of course.”
“Right.” Iris’s voice came out flat, which was exactly how she felt about life in general. Flat, gray, too apathetic to focus on the positive. Definitely too flat to be enthusiastic about a trip she’d once hoped might lead her to repeat her dad and grandfather’s experience of finding love there at the age of twenty-five. She’d already found love, for all the good it had done her.
Iris knew she should look forward to the opportunity to visit her mom’s parents, meet other relatives in person, and enjoy the scenery and culture of Japan. She also should be glad, right now, to be in this serene apartment, enjoying the loving, undemanding company of her aunt. And she was, except that the two of them had spent, and would spend, too many evenings this way. Two lonely old maids.
No, two self-sufficient, well-rounded single women. She had to view it that way. And be positive about the upcoming trip. “Sure. Let’s sit down tomorrow with a calendar.”
“Fine.” Lily sounded no more excited than she did. “How was your lunch outing?”
“Good.” Iris took a deep breath and forced herself to be more upbeat. “I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to share it, not even with Mom and Dad.”
“I always enjoy a good secret.” She picked up her wineglass.
“Miranda’s pregnant.” Her friend had texted to say she’d bought a pregnancy test and taken it as soon as she got home. “She just found out.”
“Oh my. That’s sooner than she and Luke intended, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but she’s thrilled. I know he will be, too.”
“I’m sure he will.” Aunt Lily smiled. “I’m so happy for them.” Her smile softened at the edges, becoming reflective, wistful even. “She’s so alive, your friend Miranda.”
“Alive?”
“She lives her life, really lives it. Remember when she first came into the store, newly arrived on the island to stay with Aaron? So unhappy, depressed even, yet she was depressed in such an animated way. I saw her browsing through the board books with Ariana, and then Miranda gave this huge, exasperated huff and muttered, ‘I can’t even afford a book for my precious little girl. I’m so freaking pathetic!’”
Iris smiled fondly. “That sounds like Miranda. She’s certainly not pathetic now.”
“No. And I knew, when I heard her that day, that she wouldn’t remain pathetic for long. She loved her daughter too much, and she had too much spirit.”
“She’s fierce like her dragon.”
Aunt Lily nodded. Head lowered, gazing at her wineglass, she said, “You were alive like that, Iris. When you were with Julian. You were fierce in supporting him. Now you’re subdued.”
“I’m sad he’s gone. I miss him. But I knew it would happen. I’ll bounce back.” Especially if she and Julian got over this awkward patch and resumed their friendship.
“But will you ever be fierce again?” Her aunt was still staring at the ruby-red wine.
“I doubt it. Not unless there’s another situation where a friend needs me to be fierce.”
“You think Julian no longer needs you to be fierce?”
Iris squeezed her eyes shut. “I can force myself to do it short term, but I can’t live that way.”
Her aunt didn’t speak for a long moment, as Ricky Nelson sang about being a poor little fool for falling for a girl who lied to him. Then Lily said, “Perhaps not. Only you can know that.”
“I feel as if I let him down,” Iris confessed, thinking about that teasing, deceiving girl in the song. “Not intentionally, of course. But somehow I must have given him the impression that I was, well, a person he could let himself fall in love with.”
“Iris, you don’t let yourself fall in love. It happens, regardless of whether or not you want it to.” She sighed, and then asked, almost too quietly to be heard over the music, “Perhaps the question to ask is whether you feel that you’ve let yourself down.”
Iris remembered the conversation she’d had with Julian on Windspinner, when she’d confessed to becoming complacent. She had then forced herself out of her comfort zone and had facilitated the seniors’ book club, and despite some anxiety she’d had a good time. She’d enjoyed the seniors’ stories and wisdom, had loved seeing them become so animated, and had believed that some of them had even gone away with helpful insights.
But an occasional book club get-together with some engaging, easily entertained older people was a far different thing from being part of Julian’s musician life.
Her aunt didn’t press her for a response and the two of them were quiet for a while, listening to the music.
“You remember what my mother said about Ricky Nelson?” Aunt Lily asked.
Glad of the change of subject, Iris replied, “Grandmother Rose said that when she came to Canada as a bride in 1955, she devoured all those family-oriented American TV shows. She said she learned from them, tried to model her behavior after Donna Reed, Margaret Anderson on Father Knows Best, and Harriet Nelson. She loved the Nelson family on The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet, and when Ricky Nelson grew up, picked up the guitar, and began to sing, all dreamy eyed, she said he was”—Iris smiled, remembering—“a dreamboat. I have to admit, he is pretty sexy on the album cover.”
“Yes, I understand what she saw in him. His voice is appealing, too, and his songs are romantic.” One track ended and Aunt Lily, who knew the album by heart just as Iris did, said, “This next song, she said it was the story of her and my father’s love.”
The song was titled, “I Will Follow You.” Iris nodded. “It could have been written about them.” Grandmother Rose would have loved Julian’s song, “From Dust, a Rose,” just as much.
They were both quiet as the singer vowed that he would follow his true love, follow her anywhere. That she was his destiny. As the last notes faded, Aunt Lily uncurled her legs and stood, picking up her half-finished wine. “Please excuse me. There’s something I need to do.”
“An inspiration for a design?” As with Julian, and probably all creative people, ideas could tease her aunt’s mind at any moment, and Lily didn’t want them to slip away.
“An inspiration. Yes, that’s right.”
Iris gazed after her aunt as she walked from the room, so slim, graceful, and lovely. A woman with a brilliant talent and a generous heart, a woman with so much to give. A woman who did just fine without a man, yet who, Iris knew, longed as she did for a loving relationship. Would her aunt find that love in Japan, or was her heart irrevocably bound to the one man she’d ever loved?
Iris blinked, because of course that question applied to her just as it did to her aunt.
How could she fall in love again? How would she ever find a man who measured up to Julian? What other man would view her as he did, would care for her as deeply as he did?
Now she truly understood why her aunt had remained single all these years.
Like Iris, Lily had been the one to reject the offer of a future. What if . . . Iris rose slowly. Was there any chance Fredrick was now widowed or divorced? A single man who—was it possible?—still held in his heart the memory of the lovely woman he had once asked to share his life?
Iris grabbed her wineglass and hurried to her bedroom. There, she propped herself on the bed, pillows behind her, computer on her lap. Her aunt hadn’t told her Fredrick’s surname, but the Internet could work magic. Iris held her breath as her fingers flew on the keyboard: Fredrick professor creative writing university of vict . . . As she typed, search results assembled on the screen and by the time she was halfway through typing Victoria, she had him.
Fredrick Magnusson. Still at UVic, and now the chair of the English Department. She clicked a link and gazed at the picture on his faculty listing. Ooh, Aunt Lily, you have good taste!
He looked to be around sixty. The poetic type, not unlike Julian. Not as handsome, perhaps, but striking with an aquiline nose, a sensual mouth, and gray eyes that, to Iris, looked intense. Sandy hair, kind of wavy, on the longish side, with lots of silver at the temples. The silver made the gray in his eyes even more dramatic. Though it was a head-and-shoulders shot, so she couldn’t be sure of his build, he looked rangy, on the tall side.
She imagined this man thirty years ago, gazing with intensity and adoration at her beautiful young aunt. And Lily looking back, losing her shyness in those incredible moments of connection with the man she loved. Oh yes, she could see it.
Marriage was supposed to be forever, yet the reality was that so many couples, even ones who’d loved each other with all their hearts, grew apart as they got older. Divorce was common. Was it more moral to stay with a wife you no longer loved, and the children you’d created together, or to be honest and seek a new future?
Fredrick had chosen a new future, but Aunt Lily had denied him that option.
How had things turned out for him? Now that Iris had identified him, it was easy to track him on the Internet. In ten minutes, she knew that he was divorced and there was no hint of a new spouse or partner. The two children were adults now, and the daughter had a scarily open-to-the-world Facebook profile. There she was in a selfie of herself, Fredrick, and his granddaughter, all three of them grinning widely.
He was happy. He and his family were close. He was still teaching the subjects he loved. He hadn’t remarried.
Iris copied the Facebook link and pasted it into an email. She did the same with the faculty listing and a couple of other interesting links. She addressed the email to her aunt and deliberated over the subject line and message.
A tap sounded on the frame of her open door and her aunt said, “May I come in?”
“Of course.” Would Aunt Lily be offended if Iris sent this email? Upset? Or might this be the stimulus she needed to take a second chance at being happy with her professor?
Iris put her computer aside as her aunt seated herself on the side of the bed. She held an envelope with a purple ribbon tied around it. “What’s up?” Iris asked.
“In an hour, it will be your birthday. So this is an early gift.” When Lily handed over the envelope, Iris noticed a slight tremble in her usually steady artist’s fingers. “You may choose not to use it.”
Puzzled, Iris slipped off the ribbon. The envelope wasn’t sealed, so it was easy to pull out the contents: two pages of white letter-size paper, folded together in thirds. She unfolded them and found herself staring at an e-ticket for Blue Moon Air, for a flight to Vancouver tomorrow afternoon. Why on earth would she leave Destiny and miss the traditional birthday celebration with her family?
Her breath caught. Already guessing what the next sheet might be, she turned to it and, yes, found a ticket to the Julian Blake Band’s New Year’s Eve performance at the Commodore Ballroom. An aqua Post-it note was stuck to the page, with Aunt Lily’s beautiful handwriting: Your grandparents’ love story had a happy ending.
What was that supposed to mean? Mouth open, not knowing what to say, Iris looked up—to see that her aunt had silently left the room.
Iris thought about her grandparents’ love story. Meeting in an internment camp, being separated and living in different countries for ten years, facing parental opposition, and then her shy granddad traveling by himself to Japan to reunite with the girl he had always loved. And Rose leaving her home and family, leaving everything she knew, to come to Destiny Island—all because of her love for this man. Both of them had been brave enough to risk so much.
Iris was their granddaughter.
And Aunt Lily was their daughter. Iris pulled the computer back onto her lap. Her aunt had issued her this challenge and she was going to reciprocate.