Chapter Twenty-Five

Kal

“You should talk to Corinna about that,” I told Iris again, patiently. “She has an eye for color.”

“It’s your house, Kal.”

“If you like it, I’ll like it,” I said absently.

“Why don’t we decide this another day?” Iris suggested. “We should be getting back anyway to get ready for tonight.”

Leaving the shop, the afternoon light was already fading, and Iris was biting her lip. I was about to tell her that we had almost two hours to get ready when someone shouted my name. Turning, I saw Fallon sprint up the street to us and stop, shaking back her short hair.

“I have been looking for you everywhere!” Fallon exclaimed and then smiled at Iris. “Hi, Iris. So, one of you will not be surprised by this, and the other should get used to it.”

“Dinner is postponed?” I asked.

“Oh no, is everything okay?” Iris asked.

“Yes, and yes,” Fallon answered. “Nana found out about it and wants to go, but she’s visiting up in Veda and won’t be back for a few days. She’s mad that you skipped out a few weeks ago, so…” Fallon shrugged. “Your mom couldn’t find you and has been spreading the word, asked me to let you know. By the time this gets around, everyone will be coming, and the date will be different.”

I shook my head. “Every time.”

“This happens a lot?” Iris asked.

“Deacons have a real problem with someone getting together for dinner and not inviting the rest of the brood. I think your mom wanted to keep it low-key, but she made the mistake of telling my mom. So now everyone knows.”

“Well, I guess we could keep shopping,” Iris said. “If you want.”

“Yeah, we could check out another few places.”

Fallon let out a bark of laughter, which died abruptly when we looked at her. “Oh, you’re serious?” She blinked rapidly and looked me over, as though seeing me for the first time. “Hey, did you get your hair cut or something?” I shook my head, and Fallon squinted. “Huh, you look…no, I guess you don’t look different. But something seems different about you, Kal.”

“Okay,” I said, and Fallon continued to stare. “You okay, Fals?”

Fallon stared at me for another few seconds, then shook her head and smiled at us both. “Yes. Okay, well, I’m off. See you in a few days.”

Fallon ran off, and Iris glanced at me. “No specific date yet?”

“Depends on Nan,” I said. “Kind of why I wasn’t in a rush today.”

We continued on, the light fading and the sky deepening to violet overhead. There was a cold snap to the air that smelled of winter. Nothing better than a night like this.

As Iris and I dipped in and out of stores, we caught more than one eye. Some people looked amused, others looked amazed, and there were even some double takes. For my part, I didn't care.  We were enjoying ourselves, and Iris was having a much-needed day off.

An hour or so later, when the sun had set, we headed home to a quiet dinner. Climbing the hill, I couldn’t help but think over the events of the day with a certain satisfaction. My mind lingered over the memories of the barn, of warming Iris up and our banter.

Her stubbornly high opinion of me, somehow unaltered after the distance I’d tried to establish these past two weeks. Smashed to pieces today, and good riddance.

Iris was too valuable an ally to Winfyre. And friend.

Plus, there’d been a moment towards the end when I’d teased her, and something had flickered in her eyes. Something that filled me with heady triumph and made me think of wicked, wicked things. I’d have to take a cold shower later. But I also found my heart at ease and unburdened. Iris had forgiven me, and I hadn’t even started to make amends.

 

What followed were several uneventful days. A nice change for both of us. I insisted that Iris and I split our time between working on the translations and working on that room. The first day, we’d cleaned, and she’d tried to solve that page she’d been stuck on. The next day, most of the furniture was delivered, and I convinced Iris to skip the page she was stuck on and move ahead for now.

We were now almost halfway through, and the writing was denser, concerned with Stasis Bureau operations and things of that nature. Some of it was pretty nasty, and I was glad to persuade Iris to do something that would take her mind off of it.

We also had a few serious discussions about Winfyre and being fake mates. It wasn’t bad at all, and in many ways, it was a relief. I laughed at myself for worrying—Iris was easy to talk to—and when I told her so, she’d dimpled with delight.

Over the next few days, too, we found time to arrange the study. First the furniture, then the research materials, which we then tried to organize because Iris’s bulk of notes was getting unwieldy. That proved easier than dealing with the table. My impulse purchase ended up causing us some problems, as it was too big for the study.

We spent a day shuffling around furniture until I decided to swap it with the dining room table and also bring in a circular end table that had always sat unused in the front hallway.

That worked out nicely. The dining room table, which I’d never sat at or used, fit perfectly in the center of the room. And the end table went between the two chairs in front of the fire. We’d gotten some old-fashioned wing chairs that had been rescued by Reagan’s cousin Shelby.

As for the impulse buy, that went where the dining room table had gone, only we set it vertically along the windows at Iris's suggestion. Sitting down side by side at one end, we had a perfect view of the valley and woods. It was tall enough for even me, and Iris had laughed at that, then proposed we christen it that night. Unfortunately for us, the christening ended up being literal, as a bowl got upended as we brought it over, and we had to spend a good twenty minutes cleaning up the sauce.

The next day, we made trips from my room to fill the shelves of the study with the piles of books I’d had scattered around my room. Iris had laughed upon seeing them and poked me in the ribs, calling me a secret bibliophile. I’d replied that she’d never asked.

By the time we were done, it had a homey and lived-in look. Iris had spruced up the shelves with her own little touches. Vases, little pieces of art, and other tchotchkes. In spite of the dark wood and somewhat severe, hard angles of the room, she’d managed to infuse it with warmth and color.

It’s very Iris, I thought as I stood alone in there the next morning and looked around.

The whole room had something of her personality. Several of the shelves still needed to be filled, and we could probably fit another table in there.

This was nice, doing fun and simple stuff like this. For the first time in almost six years, I wasn’t rushing off or consumed by Winfyre’s problems. I felt like I could breathe.

I was happy.

Heading out to the kitchen, I started making breakfast when I looked up and saw a few flakes spiraling down. Grinning to myself, glad I’d gotten up before the crack of dawn, I rushed to get outside and proceeded to knock my coffee off the counter. The mug smashed spectacularly, and I sighed, bending down to pick up the pieces. Hurrying to throw those away, I was mopping up when I heard footsteps and looked up to see Iris had appeared.

She was half-awake and looked a bit annoyed, holding back a yawn as she stood there. “Kal. What the hell are you doing? What happened?”

“Hey,” I said and stood up, tossing the rag on the counter. “I wake you?” She nodded. “Sorry.”

“Fine, it’s fine,” Iris said and turned around, heading back into the hallway. “Wanted to make sure that you didn’t hurt yourself and that no one was breaking in. Night.”

“Hey, wait,” I said and grabbed her elbow. “Throw a coat and hat on, and your boots, too.” Darting back into the kitchen, I grabbed the thermos and set it down on a different table we’d set up in the hall. “You’ll like this, I promise.”

“Why are you so energetic?” Iris grumbled.

“You’re rubbing off on me.”

“Kal, the sun isn’t even up.”

“I wanna show you somethin’,” I said, pulling on my own coat and hat, then yanking my boots on. Iris looked more awake now, and curious. “Hurry up.”

“Fine,” she pretended to huff, and threw her warm layers on, shoving her bare feet into boots as she followed me outside. “Holy jeez—it’s freezing, Kal.”

“Exactly,” I said and tugged her over to a break in the trees. “First snow.” Handing her the thermos, I stuck my hands in my pockets and breathed it in. “Always try to enjoy every snow, right when it starts. Reminds me of my dad. He loved the wintertime, loved everything about it.”

“That’s so nice,” Iris said and shuffled a little closer. “I’m sure he’d appreciate it, too.”

Putting an arm around Iris was becoming instinctive. But we were friends and partners and roommates and fake mates. It wasn’t a big deal, and it was cold out.

“When I was really young, maybe two,” I said, “there were a few bad weeks where I wouldn’t sleep. And this one night, my dad was struggling to stay awake, or maybe he wanted to try something else, my mom doesn’t know…but he swaddled me up and threw on his winter clothes, then went outside for a walk.”

“Did it work?” Iris asked as I paused, throat a little thick. I’d never told anyone this story before. “Kal?”

“No,” I said with a laugh. “At least not until it started to snow. Then I shut right up.” Holding onto her a little more tightly, I went on, in a lower voice: “Became a tradition for the two of us while my dad was still alive. Going outside at all hours to go for a walk in the snow. Drove my mom crazy, but I loved it. Loved the way the world was hushed, and the lights glowed…” I cleared my throat. “Anyway, you can go back in.”

Iris, being Iris, slipped an arm around me in response and shook her head. We stood there quietly, passing the coffee back and forth until the sky began to lighten.

“Hey, Kal,” Iris said, and I looked down at her. Her cheeks were rosy, and snow was in her hair, which I brushed away. She shivered and moved closer. “I’m happy you woke me up.”

“Me, too,” I said.