It was the first time that one of her nightmares had ended well. Iris had never been able to manage to write them down (she felt stupid and useless doing it, and she'd given up almost immediately) but when the last one, one of the worst, had ended so unexpectedly well, she'd woken up feeling a little disoriented, but almost impossibly hopeful. Maybe before was the bottom, and things were about to get better. Maybe she'd been wrong to blame the frequency of the nightmares on Micah.
She was in a very good mood during her shift, and she'd even managed to calm the spurned Stella not long after arriving. She looked suitably cheerful in skirt and blouse of royal blue and goldenrod, and when she turned it was practically a twirl.
When she caught sight of Peter, however, the twirl skidded to a frozen stop and her eyes went very wide. Iris had a few built-in defenses against extreme emotion, which in her profession could be very dangerous, but she couldn't seem to get over this shock. Clearly struggling to compose her features, she moved over to the table he was standing next to and said, rather awkwardly, "Did you want to order something?" Her eyebrows went up the same way they had on the beach.