Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(13)
I rose from the table, and Megan did the same. “I-I should be getting home. I have a party to get ready for now,” I chuckled nervously.
“Just come as you are. You are more than enough,” Helen said.
“O-Okay then. See you both later tonight,” I said with an awkward wave.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Megan said.
I kept my head down all the way to my car as Megan continued exalting the group and party that night. After another promise that I’d attend, I got in, waved goodbye, and drove around the corner out of sight. The moment I couldn’t see the “temple,” I let the shiver I’d been holding in rattle my body. Maybe it was because I was a cynical bitch, but that place and those people unnerved me. They seemed so content, serene, and helpful, even the ones I saw only in passing. And those women seemed to genuinely want to help me and be my friend, no strings attached. But everything had strings. Too good to be true usually was. All I knew for sure was if they were serving Kool-Aid at the party, I’d be sticking to bottled water.
Chapter 4
What did a gal wear to a new-age cult party? Everything I had with me was designer for my TV appearances. I decided on capri leggings and a dark blue off-the-shoulder beaded tunic. If it was good enough for shopping on Rodeo Drive with Miranda, it’d be good enough for the “Morningstars,” as I’d begun thinking of them. If they wanted something better, they should have told me their own label.
I was exhausted even before I went to The Temple and tried to take a nap when I returned to my grandparents’ house, to no avail. I ended up watching the History Channel with Grandpa and started knitting a new sweater to thank Carol for taking care of Gus. Even without the exhaustion, I wasn’t looking forward to the gathering. I’d have to be on my guard at all times, both mentally and physically. Not to mention I never liked parties in general. Hayden loved them. I probably never would have attended a single dinner party or barbeque in my life if he hadn’t insisted. But for Billy I would schmooze, engage in small talk, and smile all night long. With any luck he’d be at the party, we could talk, and I could be on the first train to D.C. to salvage the possible date with Luke. If he even still wanted to see me.
Luke had finally replied to a text earlier in the evening. After he failed to return my voicemail from the day before, I’d texted, “In Grey Mills. Grands say hi. Wish I were there instead,” and he just replied, “I understand.” That was it. All he wrote. So of course, as I primped for the party, I had to code-break those two words. It was why I hated texts. At least over the phone you could hear people’s inflections. Did he mean it as a curt, blunt “I understand,” a sweet “Oh! I understand,” or a disappointed “Okay, too bad, but I understand”? I had too many mind games to contend with to engage in another with Luke.
“Iris?” my mother called from the living room.
And speaking of mind games, enter player three…I thought with a mental eye roll when I heard her voice. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and shouted back, “Hi, Mom! Coming!” I sighed again and left the safety of my bedroom. “Lord, give me strength.”
Like her mother and God willing me, my mother aged like a fine wine. Her petite ballerina figure kept well into middle age, along with her thick mahogany hair. Her brown eyes hadn’t sprouted a single wrinkle around them either. My stepfather Khairo was a lucky man and knew it. Compared to Mom he was a behemoth, almost a foot taller than her and muscular from hitting the gym and moving patients around all day at his job as an orderly. He reminded me of Forest Whitaker in both appearance and temperament—a gentle giant.
“Iris!” Mom shrieked as she ran toward me. She pulled me into a hard hug. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
“Of course I’m here. I told you I would be.” Mom was a hugger, but I wasn’t. I pulled away and turned to my stepfather, still standing by the front door. “Hi, Khairo. Long time no see. How are Donte and Daveed?” They were the stepbrothers I’d met only once, at our parents’ wedding.
“Donte and his wife, Jamila, just had a baby. A girl. Savannah,” he said with a proud smile.
“Holy shit! No way. Congratulations, that’s wonderful.”
“She is the most adorable thing ever!” Mom said, pulling out her phone. She showed me a picture of the baby girl, who was indeed adorable. “We’re going down to Florida to visit as soon as Billy…” She stopped talking and her hands dropped as if the weight of her phone were too much for her.
“Faye, baby?” Khairo asked as he strode toward us.
“Mom…” I touched her arm, and Khairo enveloped her tiny body in his arms.
“It’ll be okay, baby. He’s gonna be fine,” my stepfather said soothingly.
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she said against his chest. “First everything with Iris; now Billy’s in danger too.”
“Mom, I’m fine, and Billy’s gonna be fine too,” I said, rubbing her arm.
“A madman tried to murder you! Again! Do you have any idea what you put me through? Twice! And now your brother leaves without a trace?”
“Mom, there is a trace. And I called you from the hospital to tell you I was all right before the news even broke. You knew I was fine before you even knew I was ever in danger.”