Page 40 of Someone to Tempt
“I hurt an innocent woman, and I might care about that in a way my mom never did, but it doesn’t change the outcome.” The words taste bitter in my mouth.
I wasn't like her—I've told myself that so many times.He was practically separated, I'd rationalized.The divorce papers were being drawn up.Those justifications crumbled under the weight of the devastation on his wife's face when she confronted me. Despite how I’d tried to separate my situation from my mother's affairs, I became the villain in someone else's story. The fact that I cried myself to sleep for weeks while my mother never showed a flicker of remorse didn't erase what I'd done. The apple fell from the tree and rolled right into the same damn gutter.
“Scuff your boots and down some allergy meds, Madam Mayor. Keep letting people get to know you.” She laughs when Winston stands and nudges his fluffy head against my leg. “My boy is a great judge of character. You might be an acquired taste, but you’re a good person, Iris. That counts for a lot.”
“Thanks, Gloria,” I whisper and will myself to believe it’s enough. That if I try hard enough, I’ll be enough. That someone will want to acquire me.
16
IRIS
I offerGloria a ride to dance class, and to my surprise, she accepts. I don’t know why it always comes as a shock when people willingly spend time with me. I’ve always held people at arm's length, even my book club friends. Even Sloane to some extent.
I can’t help but believe if they knew the real me—the parts I inherited from my mother, the capacity for selfishness I try so hard to suppress—they'd walk away.
My mother collected people and discarded them when they were no longer useful. In my determination to be nothing like her, I somehow decided I didn't deserve meaningful connections at all.
As much as we moved, I learned early on that being useful was the quickest way to make friends. Whether that was letting someone copy my homework or cleaning a new friend’s room when I went over to hang out—because I couldn’t invite anyone back to our crappy apartments—my combination of a need for acceptance, social anxiety, and lack of confidence made me a doormat.
By contrast, Nick found his stride with his fists. In every new school, my twin brother spent the first day quietly observing the kids and then challenging the toughest, meanest, and most arrogant boy in the class to a playground fight.
Neither of our methods was healthy. And based on the scab above my brother’s eye the last time I saw him, and the fact that I still have trouble relaxing in most situations, those early habits stuck with us.
Like Sloane, Gloria doesn’t seem bothered that I’m uptight. I’ve only encountered a few people who are so utterly comfortable in their own skin that they don’t take on the energy of the people around them. Gloria and Sloane both fit that mold.
I wish I could be like that.
Gloria tells stories about the good old days in Skylark as we return to town on the tree-lined roads, the bright gold leaves nearly at their peak. Hearing about the area through her experience makes me feel even closer to it. Makes me want to stick it out long enough to become the acquired taste Gloria seems to believe I am.
There’s very little you can’t learn by watching YouTube tutorials. Maybe becoming socially adept is one of those things.
We’re both smiling as we enter the dance studio, but mine fades as we approach our fellow class members. All eyes are watching Jake and Charlotte twirl and spin across the wood floor. The frozen emotions that had thawed out in Gloria’s company come roaring back like mountain runoff in the spring. It’s a reminder of what I might never have or feel for myself.My stomach knots as I watch him, all smooth confidence and easy charm. No wonder people gravitate toward him. I wish I didn’t want to.
How can I be jealous of two people who embody the confidence I wish for in my own life?
He pulls her in close and says something that makes the beautiful dance teacher laugh. The sound is like an angel chorus. I tend to bust out in a cackle when I forget myself enough to laugh out loud.
The music stops, and Gloria and I join the rest of the class in applauding for the show these two celestial beings just put on for us.
“Well, now, that was some show.” Tom Baker shuffles toward Char. “Janie is having a bit of a migraine today. I figured I could dance with you, Miss Charlotte. But after that display…”
“I’d be honored to be your partner during the class,” Char tells the old man, bestowing on him the same sweet smile she gave Jake during their dance.
“I could dance with Tom.” The offer is out of my mouth before I think better of it.
Char gives me a funny look. “You and Jake are partners.”
“Sure, but the two of you give us something to aspire to in a way I never could.”
“Come on, Dixon.” Jake kicks out a foot. “I wore my steel-toe boots today in anticipation of dancing with you.”
The rest of the class laughs, and I pretend to join in because I’m seriously that bad. But I don’t like being that bad at anything. Or having it pointed out publicly. I've spent my whole life trying to be perfect at everything I touch, as if excellence could somehow make up for my fundamental flaws. Being laughed at, even good-naturedly, makes me feel exposed. Like everyone can suddenly see through the competent façade to the fraud underneath.
“You dance with Jake,” Char tells me, placing a soft hand on my arm. “You’ll need all the practice you can get since you two will be doing the featured dance during the Fun Fest showcase.”
My mouth drops open, and I quickly snap it shut. “Excuse me, what now?”
“Come on, Iris, it’ll be fun.” Gloria pats me on the shoulder. “We needed somebody to be our principal couple, and no one wants to look at us old fogies up there.”
