"Goodness, I was just going to put you on dish duty for a week. What has you so down?" The previous jovial tone her mother held was now one of genuine concern as she moved to the cupboard to pull down a cup. "Anything I can help with?"
Iris shook her head and placed her chin in the palm of her hand as she propped her elbow dramatically on the counter with a sigh. "Ginger and I had another big fight…Huge ….Huge fight" She said as she attempted to stifle a yawn.
Her mother chuckled, and then moved to sit at the table beside her "Relationships have their ups and downs cherub, but you two always work it out. Remember last summer? You swore you would never speak to Ginger again, and in less than a week you guys were joined at the hip once again." She grinned playfully as she reached out to poke the point of Iris’s nose with the tip of her finger.
"It’s different this time…" she struggled with the knowledge that this would be a subject she couldn't openly share with her mother. “Way different.” There came a sudden, cold realization, she had lost the one person she could confide in about anything. It made her stomach harden into cold stone. "You're right" Iris conceded, not wanting to take the subject any further. The last thing she needed was to have her mother die of a stroke. She could see the news article now: ‘Daughter comes out of the closet, Kills popular socialite Laura Delaney.’ With a false smile she continued “We will work it out.”
"I am sure you will.” It was a tentative comment, before her mother motioned to Iris’s attire. The exact same thing she had worn the day before. “Is this a new fad or something? Because, I don’t think even your prize winning smile can deter people from noticing wrinkled clothes and the smell of old sweat sock.” It was a playful jibe at Iris’s lack of wardrobe change, and a subtle reminder of the responsibilities they had as a family. Always, they had to be perfect dolls for her father to show off.
Iris looked down to scrutinize herself and sighed. “Did you get a dress for the Charity Banquet tonight?” she murmured, eager to change the subject.
“Yes!” Her mother beamed. “I got one for you too.”
“What?” Iris blinked back surprise “I am going too?” She should have seen this coming. After she had graduated with honors, her parents had developed huge plans for her at her fathers’ law firm. This included becoming a personal assistant, and then once college courses began, he would make her an intern, which would ultimately flow into becoming a lawyer herself. It was pretty cut and dry. She was to follow in his footsteps. This meant she would now be a part of all the formal functions too.
“Of course you are!” Her father’s voice a low timber poured into the kitchen, warm and kind. He wore a blue cotton robe, as he always did on Saturdays. Timothy Delaney, the best Lawyer in the state of Florida. Iris adored him. His skin tone was substantially darker than her or her mothers. It was a natural dark tan that complimented his hazel eyes. To Iris, it seemed the only thing she had gotten from the entanglement of her parents DNA was his noble structured nose, and how it curved so slightly at the tip. Iris passed him the warmest smile she could muster “I’ll be happy to attend.”
Her Father nodded as he walked behind her and ruffled her hair “We have a long day ahead of us kiddo, looks like you will have the house to yourself.” He moved to her mother and gave her a warm kiss on the cheek before reaching across the table to unravel a package of bagels.
“It’s going to be wonderful.” Her mother grinned. “Your father and I are going to spend the day at Le Mirage Resort and Spa, where we will be massaged, oiled, exfoliated, trimmed and primped” The excitement in her voice was hard to miss. Her mother simply adored these sorts of trips.
Iris couldn’t help but smile. “You two deserve a break.” she chimed. After last night, Iris needed time alone. She had to gather her thoughts. Even if it meant staying in bed all day, mourning the loss of something she barely even recognized. What why her chest aching, like someone had ripped a hole in it?
Iris fell silent, lost in thought, the murmur of her parents’ banter echoing around her. How she envied their relationship. They hardly ever fought, and when they did, it was so brief one wouldn’t even notice. They adored each other, and loved her just as much. She pondered if she could ever be like that with Ginger, if they could ever be that happy and comfortable.
No. Things didn’t work like that in this world of high society. It didn’t matter if you were happy. In this world, if you were different, you were scrutinized. People you considered friends, would happily drag your name through the mud if it meant they could get little bit higher on the social ladder. She doubted even her father’s sparkling reputation could survive the mudslinging that would erupt if she chose to follow her heart. How could she so selfishly ruin him? The answer was so simple, yet it stung all the same. She couldn’t.
Iris was torn from deep thought as the doorbell, with its whimsical tune echoed through the large condo. All three of them stopped and stared at each other for a long moment, confusion on their faces. “Are we expecting anyone?” Iris offered as she slid away from the table and headed towards the door.
“No…” her parents said in unison as they watched her go, then returned to their conversation about the Spa and what types of wraps they would get.
Iris peeked out of the peephole in the door and saw no one. Befuddled, she unlocked it and pulled it open slowly; she stepped out and looked up and down the street, nothing. Curiously, she scanned the rows and rows of manicured lawns on either side of them. Several high end vehicles were parked along the street, but there was no sign of anyone nearby. Odd. She thought to herself as she turned to go back inside. Her barefoot landed atop the welcome mat, instead of the prickly sensation from the woven plastic, she felt something smooth crinkle beneath her heel. Iris looked down to find a small white envelope beneath her foot. “What the…?”
She looked up again, this time suspiciously glancing down the street. Iris lifted her foot and scooped up the parcel, twirling it in her hands. She gave an involuntary chill at the sight of her name, neatly printed on the outside. No stamp. No return address. Just her name. ‘Iris’ Nimble fingers parted the sealed lip, opening it up to reveal what looked like several pictures and a note that had been painstakingly printed on an index card. ‘You will be exposed.’ Iris felt her brows furrow as she delved into the envelope, a sickening stab of mortification formed in her stomach as she flipped through the evidence. Blood rushed to her ears, she felt faint. A small ivory hand snaked out to hold onto the doorjamb, her legs threatening to give way beneath her light headed disbelief.
“Who is it?” her father called form the kitchen, forcing Iris to stuff the envelope and its contents frantically into her jean pocket. “Just a prank.” She called back to them as she slammed and locked the door behind her. She felt ill, like she was about to toss what little breakfast she had, all over the marble floor. “I…didn’t sleep well, going to lay down for a bit…” she added weakly, then bounded up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, she skidded to a halt once she reached her room and clambered for her cellphone. Curses fled her lips as she yanked her cellphone from her desk; her hands were trembling so much she could barely dial Gingers’ number.
: pearl before swine:
It was well past noon when Ginger stirred in her bed, soft cinnamon hair draped along the expanse of a satin pillow. Her matching silk sheets and cotton down comforter were twisted and tangled between her legs. With a low groan she sat up, rubbing her eyes before sliding her feet to the floor. The four poster bed creaked slightly as she pushed her way out of it, and made her way in zombie fashion to her private bathroom. There was time to stop and grimace at her reflection in the mirror before she began to splash anxiously splash water on her face. “I have to stop staying up so late…”