I shake my head. “It’s bad, guys.”
Tears fill Roni’s eyes. “Poor Iris.”
She comes out of the bathroom.
Roni goes to her and hugs her. “What can we do?”
“Nothing,” Iris says in a dull tone that’s so far from her usual exuberance that it immediately alarms our friends. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
She trudges into the living room and curls up on the sofa.
“There’s more,” I tell them, almost as if to explain why Iris is in such bad shape.
The NTSB report was one thing. What she’s learned since then makes that look like nothing.
Roni gives me a questioning look, but it’s not my story to tell.
I go to sit with Iris while they take the food they brought to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” I ask her.
She shakes her head and then reconsiders. “Maybe some Advil. There’s some in the cabinet over the dishwasher.”
I get up to fetch the pills and bring them back to her. She takes the pills with a sip of water and then hands the glass to me.
Roni and Derek join us in the living room, the four of us existing in awkward silence until the doorbell rings again.
Derek goes to get the door, admitting Lexi, Hallie, Joy and Wynter.
I feel like I did when my family first died, and I had no idea what to do next. I always know what to do. I’m never indecisive. But this… How does one support a friend at a moment such as this?
We gather in the living room.
Iris has her head back against the sofa, her eyes closed, her face red and puffy.
Brielle, Adrian, Kinsley and Naomi are the last to arrive.
Christy said she couldn’t make it tonight because her son has a basketball game.
Iris opens her eyes and seems surprised to see everyone.
“What can we do, Iris?” Brielle asks.
“Mike had a five-year-old son with another woman, so unless you can make that go away, there’s nothing anyone can do.”
8
IRIS
I’ve shocked my friends with the blunt statement. I feel bad about that, but I feel bad about everything. The man I knew and loved for ten years—and forgave after an earlier indiscretion—never stopped lying to me. I have to live the rest of my life knowing I wasn’t enough for him. Who knows how many others there were? How will I cope with knowing our family wasn’t enough for him? What will I tell my kids?
They have a brother.
For a second, I fear I’m going to be sick again.
Gage hands me the glass of water.
I take a sip, hoping the bile burning in my stomach will stay down.
“How did you hear about that?” Roni says.