Page 26 of Crystal Iris #1

Twenty-One

“I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way—things I had no words for.” – Georgia O’Keeffe

S weat still drips down my face as I head home from yoga.

The new instructor really wanted to make an impression.

I rarely have to hold positions for that long, but it felt good to let it all out on the mat.

I have two more days of work, and then I’m free until fall.

I’ve never taken the entire summer off before, and I’m not even sure what I’ll do with all that time.

Perhaps it’s finally the right moment to book that Europe trip I’ve always dreamed of.

I stop by a smoothie shop and order a protein shake.

Getting in the best shape of my life is part of my goal for the summer.

“It’s the new me. You won’t recognize me in the fall,” I told Akira yesterday after ordering a salad for lunch.

She cracked up, though she didn’t discourage me.

I’m motivated to become the best version of myself—even if I have no idea what that looks like yet.

I enter my apartment, arms full of my online orders.

I open each package like it’s a gift. I can’t quite remember everything I bought—between the clothes, shoes, books, and even furniture, I’ve lost track.

I wanted new things to mark this new phase in my life, but I might’ve gone a little overboard.

I’m trying on a pair of shoes when my phone rings.

“Hey,” I say, grunting as I struggle with the shoe .

“What are you doing?” Hoyt asks.

“Trying on a new shoe.”

“It sounds like you’re wrestling it.”

I laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking.”

“What are you making?”

“Littleneck clams.”

“It’s times like this I wish you lived closer.”

“It smells amazing here. And I’m always wishing you lived closer too.”

“I’m thinking of going to Paris this summer,” I say.

“Really? By yourself?”

“Yeah. Have you ever been?”

“No, only Italy and Germany.”

“I have the entire summer off,” I continue. “I don’t think I can stay put without work for three months.”

“You could come here.”

“Hoyt.”

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll give you space. You can take your old room.”

“My old room?”

“And you can read, maybe visit the resort nearby. There’s a lot to do around here, and it’s fucking beautiful in the summer.”

“I don’t know. I was planning on… working on myself.”

“I have a gym, and… I can cook you anything you want.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, I gotta go. I’m eating my amazing dinner outside, looking at the stars.”

I chuckle. “You are mean.”

“You wouldn’t change me if you could.”

“Oh… you’re good at this.”

He laughs. “Good night, firecracker.”

I hand each of my students their final paper, along with their grades. I’m officially done for the summer. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a break. A real vacation—when was the last time I took one? I haven’t figured out where I’m going yet, just that I’m going.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks,” Akira says from the bar stool next to me.

“I’m telling you, I’m already going crazy. My apartment has never been this clean. The only place I have to be is the yoga studio. I think I should ask if they still need anyone to teach.”

“You could go to… Montana.”

“I can’t. I told you, I’m working on myself. I can’t do that with Hoyt down the hall.”

“You need to get out of the city. You’ve lived here your whole life—go see something different. What happened to your trip to Paris?”

“I didn’t realize how expensive it was.”

“You’re a Harvard professor. You have money.”

“I know, it’s just… it’s kind of sad to go to Paris alone.”

“Then go somewhere else.” She finishes her glass.

“I don’t know. Do you want another one?”

“I’m leaving early tomorrow. I can’t wait to squeeze Chiyo.”

“He must be so big now.”

“Look at this photo my sister sent me last week.” She turns her phone toward me.

“Oh my god! He’s so cute… look at those legs!”

“I know. I can’t wait.”

"You go ahead, I’m going to stay a bit longer.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’ve got my book. ”

“Okay. Plan a trip, Iris. Seriously. You deserve to go on an adventure. Forget the responsibilities. It will do you good.”

“I promise I’ll think about it.”

I’m sipping my wine, reading my book, when I pull out my phone to search for tickets again.

I know it’s not the money holding me back from clicking “purchase.” It’s Hoyt’s invitation.

I can’t help it—I do want to spend my summer with him, under that beautiful sky.

I just need to make sure that, if I do go, I carve out time for myself too.

You could make me anything I want? Anything? I text Hoyt.

Anything. If I don’t know how, I’ll learn.

Consider your place booked for the summer then , I reply.

Are you serious?

If you’ll still have me.

His reply is immediate: There’s nothing that would make me happier.

Is tomorrow too soon?

See you tomorrow, firecracker.

“Good thing I have a big truck,” Hoyt says, pushing a cart loaded with my bags. His stubble looks a little thicker than the last time I saw him.

“It’s mostly books,” I reply, wondering how I’m going to stay away from him for an entire season. The past five minutes have been hard enough.

“Books? Haven’t you heard of an e-reader?”

“The kinds of books I like to read aren’t online.”

“And what kind of books are those?”

“Smut.”

He coughs, and I laugh.

“I’m old-fashioned. I like to hold real books.”

“Feel free to borrow anything from my sister’s room. ”

“She left books too?”

“She left everything.”

I want to know more, however I know now isn’t the right time to ask.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” he asks, closing his door behind him.

“A bit of everything. You?”

“Here, pick something.” He hands me his phone.

I scroll through his long playlist. “Okay, this is literally… everything.”

He smiles.

I click on a dark grunge rock song I like, but my mood quickly shifts. I change it to a country song I know.

“So, what’s your dinner request?” he asks, singing along.

“You said anything?”

“Anything.”

“Pancakes.”

He laughs. “Pancakes? That’s your wish?”

“It’s my favorite food. Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day.”

“Pancakes it is. Any special kind?”

“Surprise me,” I say, smiling back.

Hoyt is sweating by the time he comes downstairs after bringing my bags to my room.

“Thank you for the bags—and for… letting me stay here,” I tell him.

“You’re welcome,” he says, stepping closer. “I want you to feel comfortable here, to do whatever you want. You’re not my guest this time; treat it like it’s your home. ”

“Thank you, Hoyt. Really. It feels great to be out of the city’s craziness. Especially during the summer heat.”

He walks over to the couch and turns on the TV. The casualness of us, together, moves me.

“I’m going to go unpack,” I tell him, heading upstairs.

“Remember, like it’s your home.”

I leave smiling.

I’ve brought way too many books and not enough clothes, I realize, looking around. I’ll need to make a trip to a local store at some point.

After putting my things away, I sit on the bed. “Like it’s your home.” His words echo in my mind as I change into something more comfortable. I can’t spend the entire summer worrying about how I look. I need to relax, let go.

I tie my hair up and bring a book downstairs with me. Hoyt isn’t on the couch anymore. I’m about to look for him when his words come to mind again: “Like it’s your home.”

I walk out to the back patio and dip my feet into the water. I open my book, and for the first time in a long while, I have nothing to worry about. Not right now. Everything else can wait.

I read for a couple of hours before Hoyt finds me.

“Hi,” he says, looking at me.

“How long have you been there?”

“I like to watch you read.”

“That’s creepy.”

He laughs. “You look… calm. Lost in the words.”

“There’s nothing that brings me more joy.”

“Not even art?”

“Well, I’m reading about art.”

“I want to take you out tonight.”

“What about my pancakes?” I counter .

“Tomorrow. Tonight, I want to take you out—to a proper dinner.”

“Okay,” I say, getting up. “I’ll go change.”

“Iris?” he calls as I walk away. “I promised to give you space. And I plan on doing that. If I step out of line or if you want me to leave you alone, just say it. Is dinner too much?”

“No, dinner is perfect.”

He nods.

The sun is setting when we leave. The fresh air fills me with life, and I open Hoyt’s windows to let it in.

“You look beautiful,” he tells me.

I glance at him. He’s wearing a button-down shirt and real shoes. No boots.

“Thank you,” I say.

We drive mostly in silence. I know he’s holding back because I don’t want to rush things. I’m not sure myself how slowly I want things to go.

A beautiful waitress comes to take our order, and I can’t help but compare myself to her. I hate that I do that. I remind myself to add something to my summer goals list: stop comparing.

“Have you been in a serious relationship?” I ask him, not sure why I’m going there.

“Yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“I thought we were, and she didn’t.”

“When did this happen?”

“Almost two years ago. She didn’t even feel the need to hide it. I saw them one day at a bar. She acted like… I don’t know. She told me she didn’t know we were exclusive. I didn’t think I had to clarify.”

“I’m sorry, Hoyt.”

“Don’t be. Everything happens for a reason.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do.” He smiles at me.

I look away, not sure how to respond.

“So… what’s Akira doing this summer?” He changes the subject.

“She has plans—family stuff, and NASA.”

“NASA?”

“Yeah, she’s that smart. She’s participating in a seminar.”

“Broc asked me if she was coming with you.”

“I think they’ve kept in touch,” I say, looking out the glass windows.

“I would give anything to see Broc at NASA,” he tells me.

“Space cowboy,” I wink, and we both laugh at the thought.

We eat and talk about childhood memories, horses, and work.

I want to split the check, but he refuses. I’m not sure how to handle that; Aaron had been paying for me since we were teens, and I could barely afford anything back then.

“Next time,” I tell him, “I want to. Next time’s on me.”

“Will there be a next time?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.