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“It’s the greatest city in the world. City of dreams.” She parroted her mother’s words and then felt foolish. They sounded wrong coming out of her mouth, and not only because she hadn’t visited that many cities. The irony was that her mother didn’t believe in dreams. She believed in action. Goal setting. She was constantly moving forward.
“I’ve lived here all my life and this is the first time I’ve seen the sunrise from here.”
“Do you want to run onto the bridge?”
“No. I’m good here.” Flora leaned on the rail. “It’s spectacular.”
Was it?
Izzy stared at the sky and realized it actually was pretty cool. Streaked red and orange, the colors reflected off the water and the buildings.
Flora took a slug of water. “So what’s your dream, Izzy?”
“What?”
“Your dream. What is it?”
Izzy stared at her. How was she supposed to answer that? For you to leave my dad alone. For my mom to come back to life. For me to unknow what I know.
Flora didn’t want to hear any of that any more than Izzy wanted to say those thoughts aloud.
“Dreaming is a waste of time.”
“Oh no.” Flora sounded distressed. “Dreaming is never a waste of time. Dreaming is creative. It allows you to imagine a life unlike the one you’re living.”
Izzy took another mouthful of water. “Better to have goals than dreams. Better to know where you’re going and plan how to get there.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. What if Flora took that as a prompt to form a strategic plan to nail Izzy’s dad? “We should get going because my dad needs to get to the office this morning.” Without giving Flora the opportunity to answer, she turned and jogged back the way they’d come.
Back at the house, Izzy went straight to the shower and when she came downstairs she found Flora in the laundry room.
Her hair was damp and curled madly so she’d obviously just come from the shower, too. Her cheeks were plump and pink and her smile when she saw Izzy was a friendly, welcoming curve. Everything about Flora shrieked comfort and warmth. She was like a bowl of hot soup on a freezing day.
Izzy felt her irritation mount.
“What are you doing?” She watched as Flora loaded towels into the machine.
“These were waiting to be done, so I thought I’d help.”
Panic swarmed down on her. “I don’t need help.”
She reminded herself that no matter what Flora did, Molly still needed her.
No one understood Molly the way she did.
Flora paused, towels clutched to her chest, a question in her eyes. Izzy had an uncomfortable feeling that the other woman could read everything in her head. She hoped that wasn’t the case.
“You’re a guest.” She grabbed the towels from Flora. “You don’t have to do laundry.” Guest, get it? Guest.
“I’d be doing it at home. You’ve been good enough to let me stay here so it seems only right that I help. Please let me.” There was a kindness to Flora that for some reason made Izzy feel worse.
And now she’d look rude if she didn’t let her help. It made her wonder if Flora had been put on this planet simply to make Izzy feel bad about herself.
“Whatever. In that case I’ll go and make Molly’s breakfast.”
There were footsteps on the stairs and her dad appeared, Molly in his arms.
“Look who I found upstairs.” He kissed Molly on the cheek and put her down. “How was the run?”
“It was great,” Flora said, and the words sounded genuine. “Honestly, it really woke me up. And I’ve never seen the river and the skyline at that time of the morning before.”
