Taste of Italy

C H A P T E R t w e n t y

                                                                                 . . .

   "Are you sure you don't wanna come with us and party?" said Kelly, sitting down on the couch next to her older sister. She fiddled with her ears, trying to jam her earrings into the small holes.

Iris tried not to look sad as she didn't want to be dragged off to a place full of dancing drunks and loud music. Folding her arms and placing her hands under her arm pits, she replied, "Yeah. I'll be fine. I just don't feel like doing much." It wasn't far off the truth. Partying was never something that she saw herself doing, especially since she was an introvert. It was nice to sit back and enjoy a movie or a book, and not deal with humans.

It wasn't like she had issues with people—although, of course, she couldn't stand them for too long— when it dealt with an all-night thing where all she hung out with were drunk people, it was a no-go.

"Okay, but if you want to come, then please call us so we don't worry about you . . ." Kelly finally poked her earring into her ear. "I know that what happened earlier is depressing and—"

"Please don't treat me like a child," Iris said, instantly. "I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself. I just don't feel like being in a sweaty room full of creeps."

"You callin' us creeps?" Jane interrupted, coming out of the bathroom with wet hands and the sound of the toilet flushing. Iris just looked at her with a blank face. "Okay, fine, don't answer that."

"But seriously, though . . . if you need anything, we'll be a phone call away."

"Okay, mom, I'll call you when I get a boo-boo."

Iris knew that her sister saw the sarcasm in her comment; it was in her eyes and facial expression. "I will ground you, Is. Don't push it."

With a laugh, Iris replied, "Calm your tits, Kelly." It was silent for a moment, with each sister holding a blank stare.

It wasn't until Jane busted out laughing when the others followed, not being able to hold it in.

After a minute, as the joke died down, Kelly gave a sigh. "Love you," she said, patting her sister on the thigh before she got up. "See you soon!"

The two sisters walked out of the room when Iris whispered, "See ya."

Now that the unwanted were gone, Iris got up and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a red wine from a cupboard. She remembered her sisters buying it a few days ago and even putting it up for later, but it was time to drink it. She didn't really care for their reaction for when they would get back. They had money. They could go get another.

After she grabbed the bottle and a wine glass, she grabbed the pint of ice cream—or gelato, the original, Italian phrase—in the freezer and took a spoon from the silverware drawer. It wasn't the best combination, but who said anything about combining foods and drinks?

Once Iris got what she wanted, she sat back in the living room and turned the television on. Finally realizing that there weren't any good movies or shows on, she saw that there was a DVD player below the television. I must have overlooked that. Before getting settled, she tried to figure out how to switch the channel to the HDMI, or whatever that was hooked up to the DVD player.

Iris went into her bedroom to find her suitcase and found a few horror movies in one of the pockets. "Yes! I found you!" She grabbed what she could, along with a throw blanket, and made her way back to the living room.

As she fiddled to put in Final Destination 3 and made the movie play, Iris finally sat down and relaxed. Nestling herself into the warmth of the blanket, she poured herself a glass of wine, grabbed her spoon and gelato, and sat back, feeling at peace.

                                                                                    . . . . .

"We can't tell her," she heard Kelly say as they came through the door. "Iris has to get Dante off her mind and not feel so . . . 'bleh' like."

Iris was busy being asleep on the couch. Her sisters realized this easily as they found the television off, lights on, and an empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. But just because she was asleep, didn't mean that she didn't hear their conversation.

"So what do we do?" It was Jane.

"Nothing." The words were becoming more of a whisper now, most likely because they didn't want to wake the person that was sleeping on the couch. "We say and do nothing."