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Nora rang the doorbell of the West home, mind still on the invoices that she’d uncovered in the files of WellsCorp Limited. There was definitely something hinky with them - with the whole company, she knew it - but damned if she could find it.
Barry opened the door. “Hey, baby,” she said, giving him a kiss. “How was your day? Are you ready to go?”
"Mom, something’s wrong."
The note of distress in her son’s voice cut through the numbers haze. She blinked a few times, filing away Nora-the-forensic-accountant and bringing up Nora-the-mom. “What is it?” She looked him over for obvious, gaping wounds, but found nothing.
"Not me. Iris. She won’t come out of the bathroom."
"What? Why?"
"She won’t say."
"Did you call her dad?"
"She said not to!" His eyes were wide. "I think she’s crying. I didn’t do anything, I swear."
"Sweetie, it’ll be okay. I’ll talk to her." She followed her son up the stairs, privately wondering if he’d said some boneheaded thing by accident. Iris was usually a tough cookie, but eleven years old was a rough time for any girl.
She knocked on the door. “Iris. Honey. It’s Barry’s mom. Can I come in?”
The knob turned and the door popped open a crack. Nora slid in, shutting the door on her son’s anxious face.
Iris was sitting on the lid of the toilet, face glazed with tears.
"Honey," Nora said. "My god, what’s wrong?"
"I-i-it’s not working," Iris whimpered.
"What’s not?" Nora knelt before her. "Sweetie, what’s going on?"
Iris pointed at the bathroom counter, at something sitting on a wad of toilet paper that Nora hadn’t noticed before. It was a tampon, unwrapped, but still in its applicator, mostly white except for spots of blood at the tip.
She frowned at it and then comprehension dawned. “Oh! Your period.”
Iris nodded.
"Your first period?"
Iris nodded again.
Nora let out a breath, somewhat stymied. This was Iris, her little boy’s best friend. They were children. Her son still owned Star Wars sheets, and he’d told her in darkest confidence that Iris still slept with a stuffed animal.
But Iris was eleven, and Nora herself had been twelve, and when she’d gotten her first period, she hadn’t felt ready for it. She swallowed and tried to remember what her own mother had done that day.
"Wow, that’s - congratulations."
Iris didn’t look like she was ready for a balloon and a cake. Change of tactics.
Nora held out her arms. “Would you like a hug? Right now? Is that okay?”
Iris flopped forward into her arms, and Nora rested her chin in the soft puff of hair at the top of the girl’s head. “Okay,” she murmured, rubbing her back. “It’s okay. Did you get scared?”
Iris shook her head. Her arms tightened around Nora’s neck.
"That’s good. This is a normal thing that bodies do, and it’s nothing to be scared of. Do you have cramps?"
"My back hurts," Iris mumbled.
"We’ll get you a Tylenol, okay? Sometimes a hot bath helps with that too."
“‘Kay.”
"Is that why you were crying?"
"N-maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I’ve been trying for ten minutes and it’s n-not w-working. I’m doing it just like I’m ‘sposed to."
Doing - ? Oh. Nora squinted at the tampon over Iris’s hair. “Where’s the box?” she asked.
Iris said, “It’s in the closet. All the way back. Under the towels.” She let Nora go so she could stand.
Nora rooted around in the closet, pulled out the box, and read the front. She yelped, “Oh, shit!” involuntarily, and Iris jumped.
The door rattled. “Mom? Iris?”
"Don’t come in!" they both howled.
"Sorry! Sorry!"
Nora went to the door and opened it a crack. “Bear, can you go to the kitchen and make a sandwich for Iris?”
His forehead crinkled. “What kind?”
"I don’t know. Whatever her favorite kind is. Go."
"Okay. Yeah."
Nora listened to the sound of her boy thundering down the stairs and turned back to Iris.
"Mrs. Allen, I’m not really hungry."
"I figured you weren’t. I was trying to get rid of him," Nora sighed. She went back and sat on the edge of the bathtub, the box of tampons in her hand. "Iris, where did you get these? Did your dad buy them for you?"
Iris’s eyes widened. “Nooo! No way! I did.”
"Yourself."
"Uh-huh. I read a bunch of stuff online about how to put them in and everything. They should work."
Nora looked down at the box, which said SUPER PLUS! in big letters and winced. “Ehhh. Well. They’re the - wrong kind for you right now.”
"What does that mean?"
"There are different sizes. This size is meant for days when your flow is pretty heavy. A lot of blood."
"It feels like a lot."
"Did it start at school?"
"No. Just now, when I went to the bathroom."
"Did it leak through to your pants?"
"Just my underwear. So far."
"Okay. Well. It’s pretty light at the moment, then. So, these aren’t right for you today."
"Why?"
Nora looked at the ceiling. “Um. Sweetheart, this isn’t like a towel, okay? More is not necessarily better.”
Iris frowned.
"Let’s just say that if you’d managed to get this in today, it would’ve felt like sandpaper."
Iris’s eyes widened, and she pressed her knees together.
"Yeah," Nora said.
"But this is what women use."
"Well, sort of. A lot of women do. Other women don’t. Both are okay. For you, because it’s your first one and you’re still pretty young, you should hold off on using these until you’ve been through a few periods and you know how they go."
"I read about them. I got books from the library and I read websites. I know how they go."
Nora reached out and clasped Iris’s knee. “Honey. That’s good that you did your research. But none of those books or websites were about your body. That’s what I’m saying. Every woman’s body is different. Get to know what your body is going to do before you try these again.”
"What do I use, then?"
"What are you using right now?"
"Toilet paper."
"Okay. Well." Nora rooted around in her purse. "I’ve got a pantyliner. Do you want fresh underwear?"
"Kinda. Yeah."
"Okay. Let’s wash your face, then we’ll go to your room and I’ll show you how to put the pantyliner in. Then we’re going to go to the drugstore and buy something better for you." Not to mention Tylenol and a heating pad.
"Okay."
Walking out of the bathroom, they met Barry on the landing, holding out a sandwich on a plate. The sandwich, cut in half, oozed something dark and sticky out the sides. Nora eyed it. “What’s that, hon?”
"Peanut butter and chocolate syrup."
"Thanks!" Iris said happily, and took the plate. "Do you want half?"
"Okay!" Barry grabbed one of the rectangles.
"Mrs. Allen, can I eat my sandwich before we go do … that other stuff?"
"Yeah. Go ahead. Iris, I’m going to give your dad a quick call."
The girl paused mid-chew, eyes widening.
"Just to tell him that we’re running to the store," Nora said. "So he doesn’t worry if he calls and you don’t pick up. Eat your sandwich, honey."
She waited until she’d gotten all the way down the stairs to lean against the wall and let out a gust of breath. She hadn’t been prepared for that today - or ever, really, considering that she and Henry had decided to stop with one - but she thought she’d done okay.
She was just hanging up from talking to Joe when Barry came to find her. “Iris said to tell you she’s in her room,” he reported. “Hey, mom?”
"Mmm?"
"Why’re we going to the store?"
"Iris and I are going to the store. I’m dropping you home first."
"How come?"
Nora paused. She didn’t want her son to grow into the kind of man who thought a woman’s period was some sort of dark magic, but she also didn’t think Iris would particularly thank her for spilling the beans right this very second. She decided to save the puberty lesson until later. “Girl stuff, Bear.”
He came and tucked himself under her arm. “What was wrong, Mom?”
"She’s not feeling well. And I think she misses her mom today."
"Didn’t her mom leave like five years ago?"
"Oh honey." She pressed her lips to the top of his head. "No matter how long it’s been, you always miss your mom."
FINIS