Page 84 of Full Circle

Iris rolled her eyes, then dramatically threw herself into the booth in front of me. “Then why have you been letting me do it all this time?”

I laughed at her theatrics. “Because up until now, no one has ever called us out on it. We’ll find somewhere else for you to practice.”

She shook her head sadly. “It won’t be the same. I need the smooth floor and mirrors.”

“We’ll figure something out,” I ventured. I moved on to the next table, spinning the silver tops off the shakers.

Iris didn’t look convinced. “It’s okay. He said he’ll meet me there tomorrow morning so I can practice before school while he works out.”

I turned sharply in her direction. “He did what, now?”

The alarm in my voice didn’t faze her. “He’s not a weirdo or anything, Mama. I think he just felt sorry for me.”

A knife of guilt stabbed my heart. I never wanted anyone to pity Iris, but with a solo parent household where I had to work all the time, the reality was that she went without more often than not. As far as I knew, scientists hadn’t yet given mothers the ability to be in two places at once.

“Be that as it may, I’m not sure how I feel about you meeting a strange man in the morning. We don’t know anything about him.”

Iris shrugged. “He said he used to live here. Maybe you already know him.”

My chest tightened a little. “Did he tell you his name?”

She shook her head, but that didn’t alleviate my anxiety. First, I had a one night rendezvous with a man who brought all of Wes’ memories to the surface, now my daughter was meeting a man who used to live in River’s Run in the gym that her estranged father owns? I hadn’t done statistics in a long time, but I knew those odds weren’t great.

I didn’t want to alert her to my rising anxiety. It didn’t mean anything. People were moving out of River’s Run pretty steadily now that the canning factory closed down a few miles out of town. Jobs were scarce in Smithson County. Wesley Madden was an international celebrity. He had no reason to come back to River’s Run, Georgia.

Except that wasn’t really true, I thought as I stared at my daughter’s profile. She was the spitting image of her daddy, with the hot temper to match.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to meet someday. In my dreams, I somehow turned The Comfy Cushion into such a success that I had the money to take Desiree to court and get full custody of my daughter, then we would find her daddy together. Wesley deserved to know the truth—deserved to know Iris. As long as Desiree held all the cards, however, my hands were tied.

Speak of the devil. Desiree, Hillary, and Jeremy, much to my dismay, walked in with all their church finery on. Jeremy and I never had the contentious relationship that I shared with Hillary, but after Wesley left, he became a bit…different. I’d find him watching me all the time in a way that unsettled me. After Iris started kicking in my belly, he begged me nearly every day to feel her movement, keeping his hands on my stomach far longer than was necessary. I even caught him once going through my laundry, though he never told me outright what he was looking for.

Jeremy moved into a small apartment over the pharmacy a few streets over after he got a job as a night security guard for one of the historic sites out in Savannah. He didn’t come over often, to the house or The Comfy Cushion, but when he did, there was always a gleam in his eye as he watched my every move. Like a predator stalking his prey. It always caused me to grow flustered, then break something. His attention gave me the ick.

“We’ll have our usual,” snapped my stepmother. She slid into a counter barstool and pulled out a compact mirror to check her hair. “And make sure Iris has enough water for dance. You never check.”

Sometimes I wish I had the ability to stand up for myself. I had never once forgotten to provide Iris with water for dance practice. Even though it broke my heart that I could never be the one to take her or participate, I tried to be as involved as possible. Handwashing her dance uniform, helping her stretch every night before bed, binding her toes when her point shoes led to blisters and cracks—I had done it all. And her talent continued to astound me every time she practiced her routines for me at home. She was so dedicated to ballet. I yearned to feel that passionately about anything anymore.

Iris caught my eye and gave me a small smile of comfort. She knew that I had never forgotten. I always made a bag of healthy snacks and had a gallon size jug of water ready.

A few other patrons started to trickle in, a sign that my restful morning was over and it was time to get back to the work week grind. I did my best to ignore Jeremy’s stare as I served up eggs, pancakes, and other breakfast platters to guests, but sure enough, feeling his creepy eyes on my back made me spin around too fast and knock over two glasses of lemonade I had just placed on a table for Mr. and Mrs. Windman.

“Celeste!” Desiree barked after I hastily apologized and mopped up the spill. I returned behind the counter to swap out my now wet apron for a spare one. “If you cannot keep my guests happy, why do I let you work here?” she hissed.

My shoulders slumped. It was growing harder with each passing day to remember my mama’s way of dealing with difficult people. Turns out you could only kick a dog for so long. I was too scared of losing Iris along with my parents’ legacy to bite back when Desiree got out of hand. It grew worse with each passing year.

“I’m sorry, Desiree,” I replied. “It won’t happen again.”

“It’s okay, Mama,” Iris piped up. “Everybody makes mistakes.” Her sweet face frowned at our exchange.

I offered her a small smile, grateful that she would try to stand up for me when I couldn’t stand up for myself. It was moments like this that I saw my mama’s personality coming out in her.

Desiree sniffed. “Yes, well, your mama makes a lot of them.” She slid off her barstool, grabbing Iris’ dance bag off the counter. “Are you ready, dear? We don’t want to be late.”

Iris shot me a quick look of apology. It embarrassed me to no end that Desiree and Hillary always talked about me like that in front of my daughter. Nobody should ever talk poorly of someone’s folks right in front of them.

Hillary and Jeremy both got up, too, though Jeremy waited for the other two to walk out with Iris.

“You need someone to take care of you,” Jeremy said, his voice low and sinister. “Don’t you think it’s time you gave up the solo mom thing?”

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