IRIS DANIELS WONDERED if there was a particular art to changing your life. If so, then she wanted to find it. If so, she needed to. Because she'd about had enough of her quiet, baking, knitting, 'underestimated' existence.
Not that she'd had enough of baking and knitting. She loved both things.
Like she loved her family.
But over the last couple of months she had been turning over a plan to reorder her life.
It had all started when her younger sister, Rose, had tried to set her up with a man who was the human equivalent of a bowl of oatmeal.
Iris didn't like to be mean, but it was the truth.
Iris, who had never gone on a date in her life, had been swept along in her younger sister's matchmaking scheme. The only problem? Elliott hadn't liked her at all.
Elliott had liked Rose.
And Iris didn't know what bothered her more. That her sister had only been able to imagine her with a man when he was so singularly beige, or that Iris had allowed herself to get swept along with it in the first place.
Not only get along with it, but get to the point where she had convinced herself that it was a 'good' thing. That she should perhaps make a real effort to get this guy to like her because no one else ever had.
That maybe Elliott, who liked to talk about water filtration like some people talked about sports, their children or once-in-a-lifetime vacations, was the grandest adventure she would ever go on.
That she had somehow imagined that for her, dating a man who didn't produce any sort of spark in her at all, simply because he was there, was adventure.
That she had been almost eager to take any attention she could, the idea of belonging to someone, feeling special, was so intoxicating she had ignored reality, ignored so many things, to try and spin a web of lies to make herself feel better.
That had been some kind of rock bottom. Truly terrifying.
It was one thing to let yourself get swept away in a tide of years that passed without you noticing, as things around you changed and you were there, inevitably the same.
It was quite another to be complicit in your own underwhelming life. To have willingly decided to be grateful for something she hadn't even wanted.
But as horrifying as that was, it was also what brought her down to the vacant shop where the Sugarplum Fairy bakery had once been.
She had been turning over the idea of leasing the building for months now.
And she had finally developed her plan enough that she was ready to dive right in. She had projections and products, had found out what permits she would need. She already had a food handler's card. She had a whole business plan. The only thing she didn't have was the building, and a business name.
One thing at a time.
There was a number posted on the sign on the window for a property management company. She took a deep breath, and dialed it.
"Hi," she said when the woman on the other end answered. "My name is Iris Daniels, and I'm interested in renting out the building at 322 Grape Street."
"Of course, Ms. Daniels. If you want, I can send over the information packet that I have here."
"I would like that."