Page 12 of Give Me a Reason

“You can stop by my place at any time.”

She looked away. “You know it’s hard with the bus schedule.”

“You need a car.” One more thing I wished I could help her with.

“I need a lot of things,” Iris said good-naturedly.

That was one thing we had in common. We never let our circumstances get us down. We just picked ourselves up and moved on. The only difference was that Iris didn’t see herself getting out. I had.

“I’ll help with whatever I can,” I said as I followed her into the house.

“I know you will, but I’ll be okay.”

Iris resisted my help more so than my parents. But then, what she needed was harder to give. I couldn’t just solve her problems by dropping off some food. She needed money for college courses, which were expensive.

“You could probably move to a nicer place if you weren’t always helping us out,” Iris said as she placed the bags on the counter.

“I like helping you.”

“You should help yourself first. You wear nice clothes but live in that dump.” She’d helped me move in.

“I could say the same for you.”

Iris shrugged. “I never minded living here as much as you.”

Mom came out of the bedroom. “Well, look who stopped by.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “It shouldn’t be a surprise. She stops by every Sunday.”

Mom hugged me tightly. “And we appreciate it.”

My parents were proud, but they never complained about the food I brought. I’m sure it was related to being worried about not having enough.

“Do you want to cook something together?” I asked them.

We settled on a simple baked chicken with potatoes and veggies. I always felt better when I went home after having filled their fridge and their bellies.

“How’s your new job going?” Mom asked when the food was on the table and we were digging in.

“It’s great. I love it.”

“You always loved weddings.”

“It’s something being able to bring these brides’ dreams to life.”

“Are you the one planning it, or are you just getting coffee?” Dad asked, a bit more skeptical about my career choice.

“I’m the assistant. I usually work with the owner, getting her whatever she needs. But my goal is to be promoted and plan my own weddings.” Maybe even go out on my own. My style was a little different than Gia’s. She was amazing at organization and professionalism, but I loved listening to every detail the bride wanted and finding a way to make it happen within her budget.

As part of my portfolio at my interview, I showed her designs I’d drawn. I’d told her I wanted to draw the bride’s and groom’s requests at the consultation so they could see what we envisioned for them. Gia had said what I brought to the table was special. I just hoped she’d give me a chance to shine.

Mom patted my hand. “This one has a good head on her shoulders. I’m sure she has a plan to get that promotion.”

“I do. I’m going to work really hard and prove myself to Gia.”

“I’m sure you will, sis,” Iris said.

“What are your plans?” I asked Iris. She was usually working on the weekends, so I didn’t get to see her as much as I wanted to.

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