Page 34 of Iris
Emmie starts to cry in big, ugly sobs, and I take her, pulling her up into my arms.
I sign to her.
“Papa!” she cries. “Papa, I ruined her pretty dress. I’m bad.”
Big blue eyes turn on me, hope shining in the depths that Papa will put it right.
She’s four. I know exactly what she wants.
That’s part one of what she wants. I kiss her and her thin little arms as they wind around my neck and squeeze.
Yep, that’s part two.
She pulls back a little. “Choklit?”
.I touch her forehead with mine.
“Humblycone?” She gasps as if she’s seeing the sun coming out after rain. “You are the bestest, Papa.”
Iris is trying to clean the dress with a handful of napkins that Flora’s handed over, but the material is soft and the kind of expensive that ruins easily.
Emmie’s lip trembles again. “Icy’s pretty dress.”
“Hey, Emmie, don’t cry.” Iris offers her a sweet smile. “I’m sorry my dress got in the way of your ice cream. You’re a good friend for wanting to share,” Iris says with the familiarity of a sibling trying to stop a tear tsunami in a little one. “Honestly, I think the ice cream improves it.”
She must have brothers or sisters.
Who is she? What’s her history? Her family name?
I could have looked her up, poked about.
I didn’t. I very much deliberately didn’t.
Knowing more doesn’t help. It just creates wants that can’t be fulfilled.
Shouldn’t be fulfilled.
“I’m sure it’ll wash out,” Freya says.
Iris sighs then throws her shoulders back and puts on a smile. “I’m sure it will.”
I sign to Killian.
“So?”
“So.”
Now I turn to Freya and sign a little more slowly to her.
She frowns, and I sign it again, then she nods.
“Come on,” Freya mutters to Iris. “Emmie can stay with Killian and Xavier. They’ll clean up the mess, and I’ll give you something dry to wear.”
“Okay.” Together, they walk upstairs to our personal living space.
