Page 52 of Iris
“It doesn’t,” I say. “But you’re at home, on first name basis with a servant. He’s on first name, as in nickname first name basis with you. I warned him about Heath because he’s going to be careful around Mom, but I want him to keep his job, and Heath’s…”
“Freaked out over the money scandal,” she says.
I frown. “Do…do you like him, Marigold?”
“Heath? He’s my brother. Mostly.” She picks up a stick and draws patterns in the soft dirt at the edge of the blanket.
“Not Heath.” I stand up and dust my ass. “Reece, the gardener’s assistant and general dogsbody.”
Her eyes flash. “You know better than to use that term. He’s here to help.” She then pulls her knees up under chin. “He’s a nice guy, and he’s smart. Creative.”
And it all makes sense. She likes him because he’s creative. Mari never comes across as friendless and she’s not, there are tons of girls and guys who like being in her aura. When she did summer stock and school plays. When she took all the creative dance classes the others loved her.
She paints and draws with real talent, far beyond anything the rest of us were trained to do—we can all do landscapes.
But Mari captures something that the eye doesn’t see, captures something that brings mood and atmosphere and sometimes like she sees more than others.
And when I try and think of her friends, the good friends, a Quinn in her life—I can’t.
Violet’s the real dancer in the family. She could have had a career in it. But she makes people gasp and yearn for that grace and ease in which she does it, and that doesn’t make a person friends outside the world of dance.
Marigold just captures imagination and makes everyone joyously think they can do the same.
Even if you can’t dance or sing or act or paint, Mari makes you think you can.
And Reece spoke to her like an equal, like he got her. Like he didn’t have to bask or didn’t need to and maybe that’s why they’re friends.
I let out the shaky breath.
If she fell in love with him, I’d want it to be in a world where it would be fine. Our world wouldn’t allow it and that path is heartache, because while Mari’s a wild creature, she’s also someone who doesn’t care about change or politics or anything like that.
She just wants a good life.
And how he spoke…no, they’re friends.
“It’s good you’re friends,” I say. “And you’re right, I shouldn’t use the word ‘dogsbody.’ But others will. And you know Mom or Heath will get rid of them. So keep the friendship quiet. Okay?”
She flickers me a look and a jolt of cold hits me. “Fine.”
The back door bursts open and Rue runs out, bellowing, “Iris! Get in here, Heath wants to see you!”
Oh shit.
Behind her appears Dahlia, running down the steps but not coming across the garden. And I know she’s keeping an eye out for our brother.
Damn, Violet would hate missing this.
“He’s on the warpath. Something about blah, blah, Quinn, blah, you.” Rue shrugs. “I wasn’t listening.”
“I don’t want to see him.”
Mari suddenly grins. “Don’t you need to get new shoes?”
“No, I—” I stop. “Yes, yes, I do.” My heart starts to beat fast.
“Tell him you just missed us.” Mari points to the house.
Rue’s eyes get big. “You can’t go out on your own.”
