Page 23 of Fire Island
Now, I turn to look at her.
“What’d you mean?”
There’s some underlying issue here. I’m certain there is. The look of disbelief on my little sister’s face takes me by surprise.
“You let her go, just like that?” Iris’s face flattens like she’s holding back something upsetting.
“Sheis a hunk of cement in the middle of the Atlantic, Irry. I’m not happy about losing my home, either, or my way of life, but recent events have kind of put things into perspective.”
Iris snaps her focus to the road ahead, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. She shakes her head, resetting her composure.
Four hours later, we arrive in Rockland. Iris has been stewing beside me the entire way, and after her statement about me letting things go, she hasn’t said a damn word.
Now I’m worried.
Not talking is not my sister’s style.
Something is eating her, big time.
“Spill it, Irry. Now, or I’m calling Em.”
She shifts the car into park and sighs, letting her head thump backward on the head rest. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. We don’t have secrets, remember?”
She huffs a laugh and turns her head to look at me. “Maybe later. Let’s get inside before they think we’re not coming.”
She gathers her things and is out of the car before I can object.
We enter the large, overstated grand building housing the Rockland Restoration Society. Iris leads the way to the reception desk.
“Iris and Callum McCreary for Mr. Mullins, please.”
The receptionist looks up. “Of course, Mrs. McCreary, have a seat. He won’t be long. The mayor is already inside.”
“It’s Miss McCreary, and since when were they starting without us?” Iris snaps back.
“I—Oh. Please . . . Take a seat?”
Iris growls, turning her back on the woman. I sit on the long, cold bench seat, and she drops by my side.
“Don’t slaughter the messenger, Irry. First impressions and all.”
She pulls a face and settles in, bag in her lap, pushing her sunglasses up into her fiery hair.
“I know this is close to home for you, but don’t burn any bridges on my account.” I shove her shoulder with mine. She forces a smile. This whole situation is taking a toll on her. She’s usually much more composed than this.
Her bag vibrates.
She dives a hand inside and tugs out her cell.
The screen is lit up with an incoming call.
Livvy.
Odd. We haven’t spoken to her for months. Or, at least in 2022 we hadn’t... Maybe they talk more now?
Iris glances at me and rejects the call.
