Sail Away with Me Read online

  The server told them to enjoy and waited while they all dipped into the soup and exclaimed with pleasure. Iris enjoyed seafood cooked in almost any fashion, and this rich, hearty stew was especially perfect, counteracting the overcast sky outside the window.

  After Ellen had gone, the three of them sliced cornbread, buttered it, and ate for a few minutes. Then Eden said, “You seem to believe it’s inevitable that you and Julian will part company, and that he’ll hurt you.”

  “No.” Iris didn’t like contradicting people, but this time she had to. “He won’t hurt me. Julian wouldn’t do that.” She ignored the concerned looks her friends exchanged, suggesting they found her hopelessly naïve. Maybe it was true, but she believed in Julian and the honesty of what they shared. “His leaving isn’t something he’ll do to me, it’s simply the inevitability of him returning to his real life.”

  “And is it so inevitable that you couldn’t be a part of that life?” Eden asked.

  “I stressed out for four years when I attended UVic, just experiencing a quiet, student life. Can you imagine me on the road with Julian, by his side as fans and reporters mob him and shoot videos?” She shuddered at the thought. “That’s not who I am. People can change, of course. Our lives should involve continual growth and improvement. But at heart we have a basic nature. Julian’s and mine simply aren’t compatible.” And yet, as she said that, she thought of the deeply resonant ways in which they did connect. “Or at least,” she corrected herself, “not compatible in the ways that would allow for our lives to merge together.”

  Miranda leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “So why are you doing this, Iris? I mean, I’ve had plenty of relationships with crappy endings and I’ve cried lots of tears. But when I got into those relationships, I believed in them. If you know you’re going to be hurt, wouldn’t the smart thing be to opt out now?”

  Iris smoothed back a wisp of hair that had escaped the neat coil at the back of her head. “Pain’s part of life, Miranda. It’s not such a bad thing to hurt. It makes us more appreciative of the joys in life.”

  Miranda frowned. “Maybe. But crying sucks. Heartache sucks.”

  “Maybe it sucks a little less when you know it’s coming,” Iris suggested. No, she didn’t want to think about missing Julian, about lying in her lonely bed and shedding tears. But if that was the price of being with him now, she’d gladly do it. “So I should feel miserable now, knowing that I’ll feel miserable later as well, after he leaves? That strikes me as silly. Better to be happy now, enjoying the moments we have together, treasuring each one even more because in a couple of months we’ll be apart.”

  Eden’s forehead had scrunched up the way it did when she was puzzled or thinking hard. “You make it sound easy.”

  Iris smiled. “Making things easy seems to me far better than making them difficult.”

  “If you can actually do it,” Miranda said. “And kudos to you if you can.”

  Iris turned her smile on the blonde. “You do it, too.”

  “Nah, I don’t think so.”

  “Sure. Ariana will grow up, eventually she’ll move away from home, who knows what her life may bring? But when you’re with her, you don’t waste time agonizing over all that. You simply enjoy her.”

  Now Miranda was frowning, too. “That’s true. But it doesn’t seem the same.” She rubbed her temple. “You confuse me, Iris.”

  “Is that a bad thing? Making you think about life differently?”

  “Would you come to Arbutus Lodge, Iris?” Eden said.

  “Now there’s a change of topic,” Iris responded, lowering her soupspoon.

  “I think some of our residents would enjoy hearing your perspective. You might enjoy talking to them, too.”

  “I love seniors. They have so much life experience and wisdom.” But tension rose in her body. She breathed in deeply, and out again, feeling her anxiety and accepting it. “But I can’t imagine sitting around talking with a group of people.”

  “You do it with your book club,” Eden pointed out.

  Her book club had met last night, in fact. “We talk about books. I’m good at that.”

  “Seniors read. Why not choose one or two books you think might interest them?” Eden suggested. “Ones that deal with the same kind of philosophy you’ve been sharing with us.”

  Maybe the same books she’d convinced Julian to buy . . . Could she handle this?

  “I think some of the seniors would really benefit,” Eden said.

  Iris thought of what she’d told Julian, about spirituality and the desire to do good in the world. How could she be so selfish as to focus on her own anxiety rather than on the needs of her elders? Besides, she would no doubt learn more from them than they could possibly learn from her. “So we could structure it like a book club discussion,” she said, thinking it through. “I’d relax more if we started out talking about the book, with everyone joining in. Then, if the themes in the book resonated with them, we could move into a broader discussion of their personal experiences and their opinions on issues that are relevant to them.”

  The seniors would enjoy the Pooh stories, which most would remember reading to kids and grandkids. And The Tao of Pooh could lead to discussing any number of topics, like aging, illness, the loss of loved ones, or contemplating the future.

  “Maybe your aunt or one of your parents could participate, too,” Miranda suggested. “That would make you feel more comfortable, right?”

  “It would.” As with her and Aunt Lily’s prospective trip to Japan. “I promise to think seriously about it.” She dipped a chunk of cornbread into the spicy gumbo.

  “Iris,” Eden said gently, “lots of people get anxious in certain situations. Fear is natural. Fear of new experiences, of pushing yourself, of what people will think of you. But you don’t have to let it hold you back.”

  Eden seemed like such a confident person. “Have you ever been afraid of doing something new?” Iris asked.

  “Moot court in law school,” she answered promptly.

  “What’s that?” Miranda asked.

  “A mock trial. We had to prepare cases and present them in front of real judges who volunteered their time. I was terrified. Not of the prep part, I had that down cold. But I’d never done any public speaking, and to have my first experience in front of a real live judge . . .” She shuddered. “I had to do it in order to graduate. So, though I barely slept for nights before, and I threw up that morning, I managed. Not well, but I got through it. And it got easier.”

  “Food for thought, Iris,” Miranda said. “Right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Great,” Miranda said. “Now, back to our previous topic. Intimacy.” Her grayish-blue eyes sparked with mischief. “Of the physical sort. Specifically, between you and Julian. Yeah, you haven’t known him long, and you’re the opposite of slutty, but the guy’s hot. Seems like it’d be a pity to not check out all the benefits of being his buddy.”

  Though Iris’s instinct toward privacy made her squirm, this was a novelty, being the center of interest in a guys-and-sex conversation with two girlfriends. “I admit the thought has occurred to me,” she confessed. “Yes, he’s hot, and he’s also really nice, and here I am, almost twenty-five and my knowledge of sex comes from books.” She glanced at Eden. “I assume Miranda told you I’m a virgin?”

  “I suspected you were,” Eden said, diplomatically not answering the question. “It seemed in character. Though I wouldn’t have said dating Julian was in character.”

  “We’re not dating. To me, dating means moving toward a future together, or at least considering that possibility.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” Miranda agreed. “So d’you figure you’d only go all the way with a guy you’re seriously dating, or are you waiting for marriage?”

  “I would definitely want to ensure my mate and I were sexually compatible before I’d contemplate a lifetime commitment. As for whether we’d need to be seriously dating . . . I’m not sure.
The subject—the possibility—has never come up.” It hadn’t yet with Julian and her, but in verse three he had lifted the bottom of her blouse and caressed her bare back, and she’d dared to unbutton a couple of buttons of his shirt and press her cheek against his hard, warm chest. Being with Julian was so sensual and sexy. A few more verses, and who knew where their song might lead?

  “I kind of wish I’d been a virgin when I met Aaron,” Eden said. “It would have been so special if he was my first.” Quickly, she went on. “Though the fact that I’d had sex before meeting him makes me realize how truly wonderful it is with him. What I do regret is having wasted my virginity on a boy I didn’t love. We were in twelfth grade and we’d gone out for a while, and he really wanted to and I was curious. It didn’t seem like a big deal, so we did it. And no, it wasn’t a big deal. Sadly. We repeated the experience and I hoped it would get better, and the physical part kind of did but it still felt flat. So I broke up with him.”

  That did seem like a waste. Iris had always hoped her own first time would be special, physically and emotionally.

  “Ha,” Miranda said. “For once slutty me has a better story than good-girl you, Eden. I was fifteen, the first time. And I did love the guy. He was the musician in Vancouver, the one I fell for and left the island to move in with. The sex was pretty good for kids our age, and my heart was really into it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Of course it turned out my heart had lousy judgment and the guy was a loser, but when I lost my virginity, it was with love.”

  “It seems,” Iris said slowly, “it’s rare for the first time to be with someone you love, who also loves you.”

  Eden cocked her head. “Maybe that’s too much to ask for. But if there’s a lesson to be learned from Miranda’s and my experience, perhaps it’s that it’s important to be sure you know what you want, the man respects you, and you won’t have regrets after.”

  Julian respected her. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted him—in all possible ways. A future together wasn’t possible, but intercourse was. If she lost her virginity to him, would she regret it after he was gone? Or when the true love of her life finally came along?

  If that man did ever come along . . .

  No, she’d think positive thoughts. Visiting Japan at the age of twenty-five had worked for her dad and granddad, so maybe it would for her. If not, there was still loads of time.

  Iris sliced the remaining cornbread into three chunks, took one, and mopped up the remains of her gumbo. Eden and Miranda did the same, and when they’d all finished, Ellen stopped at their table to collect the empty bowls.

  “Tell Celia we totally hated the soup,” Miranda joked.

  “I’ll be sure to,” Ellen said. “Dessert or coffee, ladies?”

  “Wish I could,” Eden said, “but I need to get back to work.”

  “Me too,” Iris said.

  “Me three,” Miranda agreed.

  Ellen left the bill on the table and as Eden pulled out her wallet, Miranda said, “Oh damn, please don’t let him come over. Nope, of course he will.”

  Iris, with her back to the room, didn’t know who Miranda was talking about. Tension tightened her muscles.

  A moment later, Bart Jelinek’s voice boomed, “Three lovely ladies, hidden away behind a pillar. Now I call that a true shame.”

  Iris swallowed and forced a smile as the Realtor came up to their table, though as usual she had trouble meeting his gaze. A glance up from under her eyelashes told her he was dressed as usual in business casual attire: nice but not dressy pants, a sports jacket, and a tie. The gray streaks in his blondish hair, and the tortoiseshell horn-rims gave him a somewhat professorial air, but that impression was counteracted by his broad smile. That smile seemed to live on the man’s face almost like a painted-on mask. She had no reason to believe he wasn’t sincere, yet his heartiness exacerbated her reticence.

  “Hello, Bart,” Eden said.

  Miranda echoed the greeting, her tone unusually flat.

  Iris murmured, “Hello.”

  “It’s nice to see all of you,” he said jovially, “although I confess you disappoint me.”

  “How so?” Eden asked a little warily.

  “Here I’d hoped you would move to Destiny Island and buy a house, Eden, but instead you moved in with Aaron. And your parents used my competition when they bought their home. As for Miranda”—he turned to her—“I doubt you’ll ever be a client, not with that architectural dream of a house Luke owns. And, Iris, I keep hoping one day you’ll leave your aunt’s place and buy something of your own.”

  “I’m happy living with my aunt,” she murmured. Iris was in fact saving her money for the day when either she or Lily met her special man—but when Iris was in the market for a new home, she intended to give her business to the mother-and-daughter Destiny Homes. Thelma Sajak came from a longtime Destiny family, and she and her daughter were laid-back people.

  “Then, ladies, I’ll just have to hope for your support in another matter,” Bart said. “I’m seriously considering running for the position on the Islands Trust that Walter Franklin is vacating. A number of people have asked me to do it.”

  “Oh, has Mr. Franklin definitely decided not to run again?” Eden asked.

  “That’s certainly what I’ve heard,” Bart said.

  “Well then,” she said, “I’ll have to study up on island governance.”

  Iris held back a smile at her lawyer friend’s noncommittal answer. Miranda kept silent, and so did Iris. Her father had told the family that he would only consider running if no one else did. Miranda hoped someone she liked better than Bart would throw her or his name in the hat, though it seemed unlikely.

  “I’m glad that Forbes’s condition is improving,” the man said to Miranda.

  “Me too,” she responded. Iris got the feeling that Miranda wasn’t keen on the guy.

  Bart touched the bridge of his glasses, seeming to push them up though they already sat firmly in place. “It’s kind of Julian to take time to help out. I haven’t run into him, but I hear you’ve been seeing him, Iris. I’m sure your parents have warned you of the perils of getting involved with someone like him.”

  Iris’s mouth fell open and Miranda asked in a challenging tone, “Someone like him?”

  “You know,” Bart said. “He was always a little, well, unstable. Brilliant, I’m sure, in his way. An imaginative mind, but moody, erratic. Not quite . . . normal.”

  Yes, Julian was moody, but he was sensitive, warm, creative. Wonderful. Bart Jelinek was a fool for not seeing that.

  “Thank God for creative types,” Miranda said. “The world would be awfully boring if everyone was normal.” She didn’t add, like you, Bart, but her inference was clear.

  Before the man could respond, Ellen came over with the debit/credit card machine, and Bart took his leave.

  A few minutes later, as Iris and her friends walked toward the door, they saw him talking to a middle-aged couple at another table.

  “He’s such a schmoozer,” Eden whispered.

  “I do not like that man,” Miranda stated.

  “A fact you weren’t at pains to hide,” Eden said as they went out into the rain and she raised her umbrella. “Personally, I don’t know him well enough to decide.”

  Miranda snorted. “It’s gut instinct. You know how sometimes you take a disliking to someone on sight?” She’d pulled up her jacket hood so it hid her profile, but her voice emerged clearly. “It’s like negative pheromones. Iris, what do you think of him?”

  “I don’t like how he spoke about Julian.” She wished that she’d had the guts and presence of mind to speak up the way Miranda had. “And I think he’s awfully hearty.” Iris hadn’t bothered to bring an umbrella, and she lifted her face to the refreshing drops, glad she never wore makeup and that her hair was coiled back. “That’s not a personality style I’m comfortable with. But he has done a lot of good for the island.”

  “Well, I’m not voting for him,”
Miranda said as they walked down the street. “So there.”

  “He’s likely to be the only one who runs,” Iris told her. “He’s one of those people. Not charismatic, but persuasive. And persistent. When he wants something to happen, people tend not to stand in his way.”

  “People ought to have more guts,” Miranda said.

  They exchanged hugs and parted ways, but as Iris entered Dreamspinner she reflected on her friend’s words. Miranda had been forced to develop “guts” as a child, she and Aaron fending for themselves when their addict mother ignored them and failed to provide. The circumstances had damaged Miranda, but they’d also given her a strength that Iris, with her loving, sheltered, upbringing lacked.

  Fortunately, life on Destiny didn’t require her to be particularly brave.

  Chapter Eleven

  Driving Forbes’s van the next Friday evening, after picking up Iris, Julian had mixed feelings about this dinner with her family. Although she’d assured him he shouldn’t feel obliged to meet her parents and aunt, he knew it was important to her, and he was curious. Besides, this was a day of celebration for them, and he was honored to be included.

  Mostly, he was nervous. He wasn’t the kind of guy most parents wanted their daughter to date. Foregoing his usual jeans and tee, he wore a long-sleeved, button-up shirt and had borrowed a pair of black dress pants from Forbes, hoping to create a decent first impression.

  “Labor Thanksgiving Day,” he said. “You have to know that, to a Canadian like me, that sounds pretty weird.”

  “Oh, we observe the regular September Labor Day, too, and Canadian Thanksgiving. But November twenty-third is a special day in Japan, and Mom grew up with it. The holiday is about celebrating the labor and rights of workers, and basic human rights.”

  “Hard to argue with that. You’re sure I shouldn’t have brought something more than a bottle of wine and the orchid?” He tipped his head toward the green-flowered plant Iris now held carefully in her lap. When he’d asked her to recommend a gift, she’d told him green was her mother’s favorite color, and she loved orchids, then she’d even volunteered to pick up the plant for him so he didn’t have to make a trip into the village.