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My heart stutters in my chest as I turn to face her, my eyes wide. "What do you mean you're not pregnant?"
She lets out a hollow laugh before taking a sip of tea from one of the cups on the table. "I’m not sure what it is that you're not understanding about what I'm saying, Briar. There isn't any other way to say I'm not pregnant. So unless I miraculously fall pregnant within the next week or so, you are the only thing that is going to be holding us together. Case in point, you need to marry the Beckett boy. Otherwise, we're going straight back to the hovel I only just managed to pull us out of."
* * *
I watch as the tiny blonde joy of my life plays with the dolls I managed to find for her in the thrift store over the weekend and think to myself that life could be way worse. The joy on her face takes away from the pain in my stomach. It distracts me from how hungry I am, from the fact that Mom hasn’t been home in three days.
I’m only sixteen, and I know other kids at school don’t have to worry about the stuff I worry about, but they also don’t have the joy of having an Iris in their life. Sure, we struggle, and sure, we don’t have the fancy things we see on TV, but we have each other, and that feels like enough.
Even when I haven’t eaten in two days.
I always make sure Iris eats, because she’s already so much smaller than I am. She needs the food more than I do. She’s only eight, she’s still growing. Plus, the nice lady at the restaurant on my way home from school sometimes gives me food for us, so I only have to steal it sometimes.
But I only steal for Iris. Never for me.
I can live on water most of the time, and the job I got washing dishes at the bakery nearby means I don’t have to steal too often, but sometimes Mom finds my hidden stash, and then… well, then I have to steal.
I’d still pick this over us having money when Mom has another one of her boyfriends around. Sure, then we have food and heat, but Mom’s boyfriends always look at me funny. Some of them have tried to touch me. Others… well, I don’t think about them.
I heat the box of mac and cheese for dinner, using milk instead of water today because it’s her birthday, and grin to myself about the cupcake I have for her in the fridge. It was worth the extra expense, and maybe this mac and cheese will keep me going for a few more days.
When the mac is done, I scoop it into two bowls and sprinkle on some of the extra cheese I stole from the store on hers and smile at myself. Iris loves mac and cheese, it’s why she wanted it for her birthday dinner. I’m just glad I could actually make it happen without having to steal too much.
"Dinner time, birthday girl," I call out.
She looks up at me from where she’s playing on the floor with her dolls and grins wide. "Yay! Thank you, Briar."
"Anything for you, sweet girl," I respond when she reaches me and wraps her little arms around my waist, holding me tight. We look nothing alike, and most people wouldn’t believe we’re related, let alone sisters, but I would die for her.
She hops up onto the chair at the tiny table we have and I place her bowl in front of her before sitting opposite her. Her eyes light up and she claps her hands together when she sees her extra cheese. She grabs for her fork and lets out the most adorable noises when she takes her first bite.
"You made it with milk?" she asks, her bright blue eyes staring up at me, and I nod. "Thank youuuuuuuuuuuu. Best birthday ever!"
It hurts my heart a little that this makes it her best birthday ever, but I’m just glad I could give her something to make her so happy.
When we finish eating, I put the bowls in the sink and head to the refrigerator. I grab the candle and lighter I stashed in the cutlery drawer before grabbing the cupcake. I stick the candle in the top and light it before turning and starting to sing happy birthday.
Iris lets out a squeal and bounces on the spot as I walk the few steps back across the kitchen space singing to her.
I place the cupcake and plate on the table as I finish singing, joy swelling my heart as she bounces and claps.
"Don’t forget to make a wish," I tell her as she sucks in a breath before blowing out her candle, clasping her hands in front of her chest and closing her eyes tight.
"I wished—" she starts, and I shake my head, shushing her at the same time.
"Don’t tell me, sweet girl, otherwise it won’t come true."
She covers her mouth and giggles at me. "Oopsie. Okay, I won’t tell. But it was a good one."
"Oh I bet it was."
The memory drifts away as I pull myself from my dream and feel the tears run down my face. If I’d known that two months after her birthday I’d lose her, I’d have picked her up and run away with her there and then.
Losing Iris might have brought my dad back into our lives for a short time before he up and left again, but I’d have given anything to have her in my life still.
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and try to push away the pain that rips through me. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive my mom for what she did, so if she thinks I’m going to save her again, she’s got another thing coming.
* * *
