by Susan Fox
“Hey, you two,” Iris said. “It’s good to see you.”
“I just finished some business in town,” Eden said, “so I dragged Miranda out for coffee. Can you join us?”
“We’re not busy now, so yes, please. I’ll just tell my dad. Meet you in the coffee shop.”
A few minutes later, she got a cup of coffee and an approving smile from her mother, who was working behind the counter, and joined her friends at a four-top table by the window. “This is a pleasant surprise,” she said as she sat across from them.
There was no reason to be depressed about her relationship with Julian. He was her friend, these terrific women were also her friends, and she had an amazing family. For some reason, she thought of the saying on the November calendar, about sharing light and happiness. The same principle also applied to friendship, and to love. Light, warmth, and love were meant to be shared, not hoarded.
And suddenly she knew it was time to stop waffling about the seniors’ book club and to push past her comfort zone. When she thought about how her shyness had cost her opportunities in life, it wasn’t social activities like parties that she regretted, but doing things that—even if just in a tiny way—made the world a better place.
“Eden, I want to go ahead with holding a book club at Arbutus Lodge,” she said.
She’d done it and there was no going back. Nerves brushed scratchy fingernails against her skin, yet she also felt a sense of relief and rightness as Eden exclaimed with pleasure, and Miranda beamed approval.
“Wonderful,” Eden said. “Will Lily join you?”
“I was thinking we might have a variety of guests. Like, don’t you think it would be fun to read one of our local romance writer’s books and have her attend the discussion?”
“That’s a great idea,” Miranda said. “I love local authors.”
“So does my mom,” Eden said. “Any chance of getting Kellan Hawke, I wonder?”
It was possible Iris could twist the arm of the reclusive thriller writer, who was a member of her own book club. But that was something to check into down the road. “I wouldn’t count on that. However . . .” She took a quick swallow of coffee, and said in a rush, “I thought the first guest could be Julian.”
“Julian?” Eden and Miranda cried, loudly enough that the heads of neighboring coffee shop patrons turned.
Iris ducked her own head and took a long breath. She looked up again and said quietly, “He could play a couple of songs and participate in the book discussion. It might be interesting for the seniors to hear his perspective, and I imagine there are things he could learn from them.”
“Have you talked to him about this?” Eden asked.
“Yes. He’s in.”
“It would be cool,” Miranda said. “All the women will be madly infatuated.”
“And the men will tell stories about the days when they were young and handsome,” Eden said dryly, “and charmed all the ladies—which in most cases would be total faulty memory.” She frowned slightly. “But maybe that would distract from the purpose of the club.”
“Hey, if it gives the seniors some fun, why not go for it?” Miranda asked.
“If we offer a variety of experiences and perspectives,” Iris said, “it will keep people’s minds stimulated.”
Miranda nudged her soon-to-be sister-in-law. “Can’t argue with that, Eden.”
Eden smiled. “I wouldn’t dare. Alright, let’s do it.”
“I’m surprised that Julian agreed,” Miranda said. “He’s not exactly Mr. Sociable. He just hangs out with family, and of course with you, Iris.” She gave an exaggerated wink. “Since you have that connection, and all.”
Not as much of a connection as Iris would have liked, but she wasn’t about to share the saga of offering up her virginity and being turned down. “Julian’s busy with Forbes,” she said. “And he’s a private person. When he has spare time, I don’t think he wants to be . . .”
“Mobbed by adoring fans?” Miranda said. “No, he’s not that kind of guy.”
Iris smiled, glad that her friend shared her perception of Julian. “You’re right, but I know he appreciates each and every fan. He loves performing for a live audience and feeling the interaction with them. And he loves knowing that people listen to his songs, identify, maybe find a respite from their worries, or find solace in songs about other people whose lives aren’t easy either.”
“Then he’ll be perfect for Arbutus Lodge,” Eden said. “Thanks for getting him to agree, Iris.” She took her phone out of her pocket and tapped the screen. “Let’s set up a meeting to plan the book club. You, me, and Glory. You know Glory McKenna, right?”
“Of course. Not at school, really, because she was a few years ahead.” And Iris had barely spoken to anyone in school other than her best friend Shelley. “But she’s in the store a lot, with Gala.” Glory and her partner, Brent, had an adorable three-year-old daughter. “She mentioned that she’s now assisting you with programming, and loving it.” Right after high school, Glory had gone to work at Arbutus Lodge as a receptionist. Recently, Eden had increased her responsibilities.
“Let’s try to set it up soon,” Eden said. “Before all the Christmas activities get going in full force.”
After arranging a time to meet, Eden put her phone away again. “This is going to be an amazing winter,” she said. “It’s Aaron’s and my first Christmas as husband and wife, and Mom is cancer-free, which is the best gift any of us could get. On top of that, rumor has it”—she put on an innocent expression—“that there’s a wedding happening before too long.”
Iris turned to Miranda. “How are your wedding plans coming along?”
“Really well, except that I can’t find a dress that feels like me.” She heaved a sigh. “I mean, it’s only a dress, right? The important thing is that I’m marrying Luke, and we’re crazy about each other, and our three kids are wonderful. I shouldn’t obsess over the dress.”
“No,” Eden said, “but all the same, every bride wants that special dress on her special day.”
Iris wondered if by any chance her aunt might be able to help Miranda. She’d talk to Lily and see what she thought, before mentioning it to her friend. “When I first met you,” she said to Miranda, “you were so determined to be independent. And now here you are, getting married.”
One corner of Miranda’s mouth kinked up in a wry smile. “I’ve come to realize independence is an illusion. Everyone needs other people, and it’s stupid not to admit it.”
Eden grinned at her.
Miranda smiled back. “Now there’s a body-language I told you so if I ever saw one. But anyhow, I know marriage is this archaic institution, rooted in all sorts of chauvinistic crap, and sometimes I think I’m crazy that I actually want to do it, but I do.”
“Inconsistency, thy name is Miranda,” Eden teased.
“Why do you want to get married?” Iris asked, not challenging, just curious.
Miranda took a breath and her light blue eyes took on a grayish tone, as they did when she was sad. “The way I grew up made me insecure. I kept chasing after love, never finding it, and deep down inside I didn’t believe I deserved it.”
“Of course you do,” Iris said. “You know that, right?”
“A bunch of good people, like you ladies and Luke, are convincing me of it. And marriage, that stupid old institution, is a formal recognition that Luke loves me and wants to spend his life with me.”
A formal recognition. Wasn’t it the essence that mattered, not the formalities? Not that Iris would ever dispute her friend’s beliefs, but now she was even more curious. “Eden, why did you and Aaron get married?”
Eden gave a soft laugh. “Besides being madly in love? Well, he was the one who proposed, so you’d have to ask him why he did. As for why I accepted, it’s due to Mom and Dad. Their marriage is wonderful and I always dreamed of having the same thing.” She cocked her head. “Your family’s pretty traditional, Iris. I’m guessing you and Mr. Right wil
l be saying wedding vows?”
Iris had reflected on this subject over the years, as she contemplated her ideal future. “Maybe, maybe not. I like the idea of a personalized commitment ceremony.”
“Like Aunt Di and Uncle Seal,” Eden said. “Theirs was on the beach.”
An image flashed into Iris’s mind of her and Julian at the old commune. A crown of wildflowers adorned her hair and they held hands, gazed into each other’s eyes—
“Iris?”
She came to with a jolt, to see her friends studying her with curiosity.
Eden went on. “You wouldn’t care about that formal, legal recognition?”
“Not from a religion I don’t believe in. As for a civil ceremony and an official certificate of marriage . . . Well, you’re right that my family’s quite conventional, but common law partnership is widely accepted now. I think the decision of how to make a lifetime commitment should belong to the individuals who are making it.”
“You sound really secure,” Miranda said. “More than I am, that’s for sure.”
“I’m quite secure in knowing who I am,” Iris said, “and knowing my own value. My family always made sure I knew I was loved and valued for exactly who I am.” Her lips twitched. “Of course it helps that I wasn’t inclined to be anything but a good girl.”
Eden chuckled. “That makes two of us.”
“A lot of people don’t really see me,” Iris said. “My shyness and reserved nature have always made me prefer to stay in the background. Some people interpret that as aloofness and others think I’m boring. That’s fine. The few people who do see past that are the ones who matter.” She sent a grateful smile across the table. “I’m glad to have you as friends.”
“And don’t forget Julian,” Miranda said.
“Yes. Him too.”
“He’s still ‘just a friend’?” Miranda put quotations around the term.
There was no controlling the heat that rose to Iris’s cheeks, but she tried to keep her tone neutral when she said, “There’s no possibility of a future together. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company until he leaves in December.”
“You’ll miss him like crazy,” Miranda said.
“Of course.” She squared her shoulders. “That’s a reason to value this time together rather than stop seeing him and start missing him right now.”
“That sounds so logical,” Miranda said. She glanced at Eden. “How come she’s always so reasonable and wise, like she’s a decade or two older than us?”
“She’s an old soul?” Eden suggested with a smile.
“Julian is good for me,” Iris said. “The fact that someone like him—a sensitive, interesting man and also a fairly big celebrity—truly sees me and values me, that boosts my confidence. It supports my belief that one day another man will come along, one as special as Julian”—surely such a thing was possible—“who loves me. A man who wants to build a future here on Destiny with me. To have babies together, or maybe to adopt because I hate the idea of there being unwanted children in the world.”
“Of course that will happen,” Eden said. “And in the meantime, I’m glad that Julian’s good for you. Just please guard your heart a little, and don’t get too emotionally invested in him.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh gosh, I need to get back.”
They all rose, Eden and Miranda put on their coats, and they exchanged hugs.
As Iris walked back to the bookstore, she mused on Eden’s last comment. Yes, it was unwise to get too emotionally invested in a man who would never be more than a friend. But, when that friend was Julian Blake, how could she stop herself?
Chapter Fifteen
Late on a Friday afternoon, two weeks after he’d brought dinner to Iris’s parents’ house, Julian again sat at the kitchen table. Akemi was showing him how to construct sushi rolls, Iris was making an orange cake for dessert, and Ken was preparing chicken karaage. Dreamspinner was closed for business tonight. Iris had told him that a regular customer had booked it for a combination bridal shower and Christmas party. Lily was at the store making sure everything ran smoothly.
In the Yakimuras’ kitchen, they were all speaking French. Knowing that the family used either that language or Japanese at home, Julian had told them he’d be happy to speak French. The fact that they accepted his offer, and that Akemi was teaching him to cook rather than serving him, made him feel like a friend rather than an outsider.
Iris’s mom placed a bamboo mat on the table and spread a sheet of nori seaweed on it. As she worked, she peppered him and Iris with questions about the seniors’ book club meeting they’d attended that afternoon.
Julian was glad he’d gone. The songs he’d chosen to perform had gone over well and his presence had helped Iris cope with her anxiety. He’d enjoyed the seniors’ insights and sense of humor, and found it thought-provoking hearing about their experiences and their issues. His muse had been taking notes.
Akemi looked up from spreading rice on the sheet of nori. “There’s much to be learned from the wisdom of your elders. I’m glad to see you young people learning that lesson.”
Iris laughed. “Mom, I’ve been taught to respect my elders since I was in your womb.”
“And you, Julian?” Akemi arched her black eyebrows.
“I never knew my grandparents, but Forbes’s musician friends were men and women of all ages. They were interesting, diverse. I learned to listen and not mouth off. So, yes, I learned respect.” Maybe he should leave it at that, but he wanted to be honest with these people. “My dad and his friends thought for themselves, though. They didn’t conform just because their elders told them to. They challenged authority when they thought it needed to be challenged. That was another lesson I learned.”
“There’s value to conformity,” Akemi said evenly. She unwrapped a package of bright pinkish-orange salmon, took a cucumber from the fridge, and picked up a knife. “Watch. You slice the fish like this. Long, thin strips.” She demonstrated and then gave him the knife. “Carry on. And the same with the cucumber.”
While he got the feel of the knife, she went on. “I see value to fitting in. To respecting social institutions without necessarily agreeing with all of them.”
“Forbes says you need to pick your battles,” Julian said. “It’s a matter of what your conscience can live with.”
This is our secret, Julian.
He swallowed hard and his voice rasped when he added, “And of whether you’re brave enough to fight the battle.”
“One must have principles,” Ken put in quietly, as he stood by the stove. “Sometimes, though, the principle is the value of compromise.”
Iris turned from the kitchen counter, raising the back of her hand to her brow to give it a dramatic swipe. “I love philosophical discussions, but that’s what Julian and I have been doing all afternoon. Could we please talk about something a bit less mentally challenging?”
Akemi, who had spread mayonnaise on the rice and was now lining the salmon and cucumber down the middle, said, “Julian, I imagine the seniors enjoyed your music?”
“They loved him,” Iris said. “So did the staff. Including Eden and Glory, who are big fans of Julian’s.”
He remembered Glory’s starstruck eyes, huge in her elfin face, when she stuttered out a request for his autograph. She and Eden had participated in the book club as well, and he’d been happy when Glory got over the fangirl thing and showed her introspective side. She and Iris had had an interesting exchange about identity, Iris saying that hers included her Japanese heritage and Glory saying that she completely rejected her Chinese one. She’d been born in China, abandoned by her birth parents during the one-child era, and then adopted by a Destiny Island couple of Scottish background. Glory said that, despite looking Chinese, she rejected the country that had rejected her, and identified entirely as Scottish. Julian envied Glory her ability to simply reject a part of her makeup. If only he could do that with his shame and guilt.
“Did you p
lay songs you wrote yourself?” Akemi’s question brought him back to the cozy kitchen.
He watched her roll the sushi into a long tube, thinking that her fingers were as deft in the kitchen as his were with guitar strings. “A couple. I also played snippets of songs from each decade, back to the nineteen thirties.” He’d enjoyed the reminiscent smiles on the seniors’ faces. “When Forbes is better, I’m going to suggest he go over with his guitar now and then. They’d love it, and I think he would, too.”
“That’s a nice idea,” Ken said. “It would be generous of Forbes to give them that gift.”
“Speaking of music,” Akemi said, “how did your band’s performance in Victoria go? You must have been missing that life, spending so much time here on quiet little Destiny Island.” She cast a sideways glance at her daughter.
Iris, pouring the cake batter into a pan, didn’t seem to notice.
“It was great,” he said. “Fun to be with my bandmates again. The audience was terrific. Really involved.” He only wished Iris had been in that audience. There’d been the usual groupies, including one persistent and very attractive redhead who’d come on to him. But having meaningless sex would have made him miss Iris even more and, for some not entirely logical reason, have felt like a betrayal.
“I’m sure you have many fans,” Akemi said. “A talented musician like you, and such a handsome young man.” Wielding the sharp knife, she cut the roll into symmetrical slices.
“Uh, thanks. Yes, fortunately the band is pretty popular.” He truly appreciated the real fans. But loads of people said they loved him, loved his music, when in fact they only wanted something from him. To have sex with a celebrity and get their photo on social media with him. To get hired on as a singer or musician with the band, or to have him sing and promote songs they’d written.
People always wanted something from you. His dad loved him and was thrilled about his career, yet wanted his son at home more often. Even Iris wanted him to somehow become a homey guy, an island boy. Oh, she never said that, perhaps didn’t even acknowledge it to herself, but he knew it.