IRIS
Thefirst snow of the year falls on the anniversary of my arrival in the hollow. It’s not a heavy snow, just enough to leave a dusting of white across the grass and a few pale flakes clinging to Sol’s hair when he comes in from a morning deer hunt.
I’m sitting on the living room floor, leaning back against Lily’s legs while she perches on the couch behind me, artfully arranging my long hair into a braided crown. Poppy and Zinnia are sitting on either side of her, bickering whileLittle Womenplays on the TV. It’s the nineties version, with Winona Ryder as Jo, one of the four DVDs we have in the cabin, so it’s on regular rotation along withElf,Titanic,andPulp Fiction.
“There she is!” Sol says as he comes in from outside. He bends down to unlace his boots. “Happy anniversary! How does it feel?”
I smile at him. “Not much different, if I’m honest.”
“Fair enough, but it’s a big milestone!” Sol yanks off his bootsand puts them neatly by the door. “But today’s about celebration. We can worry about what it all means another day. We’ll talk about it in a Growth Session soon, but there’s no rush. For now, let’s just celebrate you. Sound good?”
I nod, both relieved and disappointed that whatever the next steps are in my journey won’t be laid out before me today.
The only thing the older girls have told me is that, after being here for a year, Sol would give me more responsibility. That the next phase of my blooming would take place. They aren’t supposed to say any more than that. But Sol’s hinted to me that there are some tasks he has planned, ways to test my progress with everything he’s taught me in our Growth Sessions.
The idea of being tested is nerve-wracking, but Sol has assured me he’d never ask me to do anything I wasn’t capable of. Beyond that, he’s stayed pretty quiet on the subject.
Whatever these trials are, it sounds like I won’t be finding out today. So I try to do as Sol suggests and not worry about it too much.
“Where are the others?” Sol asks.
“Rose volunteered to wash the dishes, so she’s in the kitchen,” I say.
It’s actually meant to be my turn to clean up after breakfast, but when Rose heard that, she practically chased me out of the kitchen.
“Absolutelynot,” she said. “Everyone’s made it clear this is a big day for you! So I’ll take care of it.”
I tried to protest, but she was having none of it. And after a few minutes of back and forth, in which I discovered that Rose might be even more stubborn than Violet, I admitted defeat and slinked into the living room, where Lily was already waiting with the brush and a few hair ties scavenged from around the cabin.
“Violet’s in the shower,” Lily says. “Been in there a while, actually.”
Zinnia scowls. “She’s gonna use up all the hot water again.”
Sol places a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll talk to Violet,” he says. “For now, let’s enjoy ourselves, all right?”
Zinnia looks up at him and nods. “Yeah. Sorry, Sol. Sorry, Iris. It ain’t the time to complain.”
“How was the hunt?” Poppy asks. “You get anything?”
“No,” Sol says. “Didn’t spot a single deer.”
We all exchange a look, but no one says what we’re each thinking. Because there’s no need. We are aware that this is the third unsuccessful hunt this week, and that our supply of deer jerky is running low. That tonight’s dinner is likely going to have to be small and carefully rationed among the seven of us.
The silence is broken when Lily, ever the encouragingoptimist, says, “That’s all right. It’ll go better next time.”
“We’ll make it work,” Sol says with his usual unshakable confidence. “We always do, don’t we?”
It’s true. In the year since Lily brought me to the cabin, we’ve had some rough patches, where food was scarce and the sharp pain of hunger started to pierce our bellies. But Sol always finds something—an odd job to do or a thing to sell—and one way or another, food ends up on the table. I know this time will be no different.
It’s not long after Lily finishes with my braid that the other girls join us. Rose has pruned hands that smell faintly of dish soap, and Violet’s hair is damp as they both move to sit near the fire.
Violet is a girl made of ice. Everything about her is pale and cold. Her skin is as white as Rose’s, and her straight, chin-length hair is light blond with undertones that are so cool it almost has a silver sheen. Her eyes are the same frosty blue as Sol’s but without the kindness. Where his are gentle, Violet’s are as sharp as icicles. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen her thin lips curl into a smile. And I’ll still have fingers to spare.
“Good morning, everyone,” Sol says when all of our eyes are on him. He stands in the middle of the living room—Little Womennow muted—and looks around at us with a gleaming smile. “As you all know, today is a special day for one of our own.” His eyes meet mine, and he reaches a large hand down to where I sit. “Iris?”
I take his hand, feeling each of his calluses as he pulls me to my feet. I let him sling an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his side.
“Today is a big milestone for Iris. One year of hard work here in our garden is something to be proud of.” He looks down at me then, tucked safely beneath his arm. “You’ve come such a long way in the last twelve months, Iris. I’ve seen you make so much progress. And while there are still challenges ahead, I just want you to know that I’m so proud of the young woman you’re becoming.”
