It’s from Byron in our group chat with Bennett, Worth, Fisher, and Leo.
“Pack your bags, Jack. We’re heading to Colorado. Tomorrow. We’re taking Bennett’s new plane. Wheels up at 9 a.m. No excuses.”
When Worth suggested I go to the Club right after meeting Iris, it was the last place I wanted to be, but now? For the first time the two weeks since I met Iris, my chest loosens at the thought of not being in New York, and I realize a break from New York with my best friends is just what I need.
It might not be Paris, but anywhere but here will do.
NINE
Iris
I can now add delivery driver to my résumé. Since Bray’s accident, he can’t drive. On the farm, enough of the pickers can operate the machinery that it doesn’t matter. But Bray takes the deliveries to the Colorado Club. And I’ve inherited that particular job.
The Club likes to be able to tell their members that their fruit was picked this morning, so now I have to get into work earlier so I can be up the mountain by six thirty.
If it didn’t mean more work for me, I might be tempted to take a mallet to my brother’s other leg.
Lucky for me, the truck is loaded with the fruit, so I just need to find the key and go.
When I arrive, the truck is having the last few bits of fruit added, and then in a matter of minutes, I’m off, up the mountain.
I pass by Beth and Mike’s cabins, although they don’t own them anymore—Byron Miller does. Despite him owning most of the mountain, he’s building a house down in Star Falls. Of all thepeople who’ve left our town, he’s the one I never expected to see again. Apparently no one ever leaves this town.
There’s a huge yellow crane set up right on the edge of his land. I really hope it’s not going to block the road on the way back down. I’ve got things to do. I’m going to follow up with Karen today. It might kill me, but I need to get those damn invoices paid so we can place the order for the new machinery. Anything to stop my dad’s constant complaints. I also need to fill in my course enrollment forms for the course I’ve found on the Deer Valley Community College website.
I take the road before the main entrance to the Club. It’s the one for goods and deliveries. I pull up in front of the kitchen entrance. There’s not usually anyone out here, but this morning, there’re a couple of staff outside who look like they’re having an argument. They don’t even notice I’m here.
“He’s bringing his entire crew from New York,” one says to the other. “We can’t use that shitty steak.”
Yikes. I’m pleased I don’t work here. And I’mreallypleased I’m not delivering shitty fruit. The fruit we bring up to the Colorado Club is the best. All the fruit from Wilde’s Farm is great, but the Colorado Club gets the top-tier stuff.
I open the truck and pull out one of the crates. There are five to bring in. Hopefully I’ll find someone in the kitchen who’s in a better mood than the two guys whose argument is still going on.
I enter the door that leads to the kitchen. There’s a corridor, and on the left the room that leads to the huge walk-in refrigerator, and on the right, the entrance to the kitchen that’s been propped open with a large box that says it contains olive oil. I hover outside. “Hello!” I call. “Fruit delivery.”
No one answers. There’s usually more people around and it’s easy to find one of the kitchen staff who will sign for the delivery. Today the atmosphere seems a little different.
I slide the crate into the store room and poke my head into the kitchen. People are huddled over on the other side, all listening to a guy wearing a white bandana talk. They’re all nodding and looking very serious. The swing doors that lead out of the other side of the kitchen—presumably to the restaurant—opens and a familiar face dressed in black trousers and a white shirt enters.
We lock eyes.
“Stephanie?” I ask. Stephanie, who moved to Vegas. Who, until this year, my family thought I visited every year. What’s she doing at the Colorado Club?
“Iris!” she says, beaming, and she comes over and we hug.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “I heard you were in town.”
“I keep hearing your name too. I’m so glad we ran into each other. What areyoudoing here?”
“Delivering fruit.”
“Oh, I can help you with that,” she says. “The chefs are having their daily meltdown early today.” She rolls her eyes. “And all at the same time. You won’t get any help out of them.”
“You work here?” I ask as we head out to the truck.
“Yeah, I got a job as restaurant manager. It’s weird to be back. But not quite back, if you know what I mean.”
“So you’re here to stay?”
