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The Homecoming
Robyn Carr
In a small town, reputation is everything. In her latest novel, #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr explores the burden placed on a young man returning home to face his mistakes - the first step in claiming the life he was meant to live.At the age of nineteen, Seth Sileski had everything. A superb athlete and scholar, handsome and popular, he was the pride of Thunder Point. Destined for greatness, he lost it all in a terrible accident that put an end to his professional football career when it had barely begun. The people in his hometown have never forgotten what might have been. Seth has come to terms with the turns his life has taken.But now he's been presented with an opportunity to return home and show his father-and the people of Thunder Point-he's become a better, humbler version of his former self. Winning over his father isn't the only challenge. Seth must also find a way to convince his childhood neighbour and best friend, Iris McKinley, to forgive him for breaking her heart. With his homecoming, will Seth be able to convince the town, his family and especially Iris that he's finally ready to be the man who will make them all proud?See more at www.robyncarr.com


In a small town, reputation is everything. In her latest novel, #1 New York Times bestselling author Robyn Carr explores the burden placed on a young man returning home to face his mistakes—the first step in claiming the life he was meant to live
At the age of nineteen, Seth Sileski had everything. A superb athlete and scholar, handsome and popular, he was the pride of Thunder Point. Destined for greatness, he lost it all in a terrible accident that put an end to his professional football career when it had barely begun. The people in his hometown have never forgotten what might have been.
Seth has come to terms with the turns his life has taken. But now he’s been presented with an opportunity to return home and show his father—and the people of Thunder Point—he’s become a better, humbler version of his former self.
Winning over his father isn’t the only challenge. Seth must also find a way to convince his childhood neighbor and best friend, Iris McKinley, to forgive him for breaking her heart. With his homecoming, will Seth be able to convince the town, his family and especially Iris that he’s finally ready to be the man who will make them all proud?
www.robyncarr.com
Praise for #1 New York Times bestselling author and #1 USA TODAY bestselling author (#ulink_120a2aaa-4f26-549b-9bfe-1ea4fcb0d385)


“As usual, Carr delves into the lives of others in town, laying the groundwork for future books.
This cozy read satisfies.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Chance
“Carr focuses her superior storytelling
on one couple for a can’t-put-down read.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Chance
“A touch of danger and suspense make the latest
in Carr’s Thunder Point series a powerful read.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Hero
“With her trademark mixture of humor,
realistic conflict, and razor-sharp insights,
Carr brings Thunder Point to vivid life.”
—Library Journal on The Newcomer
“No one can do small-town life like Carr.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Wanderer
“Carr has hit her stride with this captivating series.”
—Library Journal on the Virgin River series
Also available from Robyn Carr
and Harlequin MIRA
The Thunder Point Series
THE PROMISE
THE CHANCE
THE HERO
THE NEWCOMER
THE WANDERER
The Virgin River Series
MY KIND OF CHRISTMAS
SUNRISE POINT
REDWOOD BEND
HIDDEN SUMMIT
BRING ME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
HARVEST MOON
WILD MAN CREEK
PROMISE CANYON
MOONLIGHT ROAD
ANGEL’S PEAK
FORBIDDEN FALLS
PARADISE VALLEY
TEMPTATION RIDGE
SECOND CHANCE PASS
A VIRGIN RIVER CHRISTMAS
WHISPERING ROCK
SHELTER MOUNTAIN
VIRGIN RIVER
The Grace Valley Series
DEEP IN THE VALLEY
JUST OVER THE MOUNTAIN
DOWN BY THE RIVER
Novels
FOUR FRIENDS
A SUMMER IN SONOMA
NEVER TOO LATE
RUNAWAY MISTRESS
BLUE SKIES
THE WEDDING PARTY
THE HOUSE ON OLIVE STREET
Look for Robyn Carr’s next novel
available soon from Harlequin MIRA
The Homecoming
Robyn Carr




www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)
Contents
Cover (#ua8980292-fa85-5524-b328-77fbbe8daf54)
Back Cover Text (#u06becee5-c589-50c7-b200-d61708ee9db7)
Praise (#u5254fa28-6864-5269-a68f-709367695a73)
Booklist (#u629ac43f-8c8b-5be9-9ee3-c3f111e309d8)
Title Page (#u68c2857a-2b11-546a-bada-ae97c38d03f1)
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One (#ulink_0b0fbc09-9233-50d0-ac5c-de921e796ddd)
When Seth Sileski was a kid, Thunder Point was his playground. Even as a freckle-faced, towheaded little kid he’d held this town in the palm of his hand. He could run the fastest, hit the hardest, throw the farthest and charm the most cantankerous teachers. His two older brothers, Nick and Norm Junior—affectionately known as Boomer—had also had great childhoods, but they never matched Seth’s notoriety. He went from beautiful kid to adored adolescent to most popular and accomplished teenager—great grades, superb athlete, handsome, a good and loyal friend. He’d had it all. And then, at the age of twenty, his life took a dramatic turn and all that great luck and good fortune seemed to blow away.
Or, if you listened to his father, Norm Sileski, Seth threw it away.
So now he was back in Thunder Point, a little scarred and damaged but whole. And definitely humbled. He’d traveled a long way since leaving town at the age of eighteen and if you’d told him five or ten years ago that he’d return home he’d have called you a lunatic. Yet here he was, and by choice. This time he was wearing a deputy’s uniform. He was thirty-four years old, and his battle to regain a sense of pride and accomplishment had been mighty and difficult. Seth was taking over the Sheriff’s Department Thunder Point substation from Mac McCain. He’d be the officer in charge while Mac moved to a lieutenant’s position at the headquarters in Coquille.
Seth had been back to town fairly often over the past sixteen years. He visited his mother and tried to check in with his father. Every time he drove into this small coastal town he was surprised by how little the place had changed. People changed, the economy changed, the world changed, and yet Thunder Point, Oregon, always seemed to remain the same. The linoleum in the diner had been old and cracked when he was a boy, all the same fast-food establishments were present, Waylan’s Bar was still the only real dive in town and it looked frozen in time. In fact, Waylan still propped the door open with a paint can, as if he intended to paint the place. It hadn’t happened yet.
It was the second week in September and school had resumed just a couple of weeks ago, so there was still a lot of optimism and excitement winding up the students. Those on bikes weren’t staying out of the middle of the road very well, but a little whoop-whoop from the police SUV moved ’em over quick, followed by yelps of laughter and shenanigans.
Seth caught sight of Iris McKinley, his next-door neighbor and childhood friend when he was growing up. She was still riding her bike to school, but now she wore a skirt and carried a briefcase in the basket. When the wind caught her skirt it revealed tight, black bike shorts underneath. The kids raced her. The school buses passed her, honked their horns and kids leaned out their windows to wave. Iris jingled the bell mounted on her handlebars and waved in response. She threw back her head and laughed as a bus driver laid on the horn for a long blast. She still had that wild, unrestrained laughter he remembered. Before she noticed him, he turned off the main street, heading back to the substation to park.
The Sheriff’s Department substation was one sign that some changes had taken place in Thunder Point. The department had always had a strong presence in the town as there was no local law enforcement, but the substation office was only about ten years old. The clinic next door was quite new so Seth made that his first stop. He walked into the clinic to face a beautiful woman standing in the reception area. She could be mistaken for Catherine Zeta-Jones with her dark straight hair and brown eyes.
“Hi,” he said, smiling, putting out his hand. “I’m Seth Sileski and I’ll be your new neighbor. Mac starts working in Coquille in about a week.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure,” she said. “Peyton Lacoumette, physician’s assistant. And this is Devon Lawson, our office manager. Scott?” she yelled. “Do you have a minute?”
The doctor came to the front of the clinic wearing the native dress—blue jeans and denim shirt. “Hi, I’m Scott Grant. So, you’re the new guy,” he said with a smile.
Seth laughed and stuck out his hand. “Seth Sileski. I’m not exactly new. I grew up here. Norm is my dad.”
“No kidding. Which one are you? He said he had three sons and none of them lived in town.”
“I’m the youngest. I’ve only been back to visit since leaving for college.”
“Then welcome back,” Scott said. “We’ll be glad to have you. And we’re darn proud of Mac—moving up in the world.”
“Those are going to be hard shoes to fill,” Seth said.
“Did you know Mac before now?” Peyton asked.
“Sure, from the department. I think I’ve known him eight years or so, though we worked in different parts of the county. He has a very good reputation. Before it’s down to me—are there any needs you have or issues you’re concerned about? Anything you want me to know?” He grinned. “As your neighbor and your cop?”
Scott chuckled. “Trash pickup is Wednesday in the alley behind the stores. I’ll have to think about anything else.”
“Trash,” Seth said. “Good to know. Let me ask you this—how do you get along with the youth in town? Any problems I should be aware of?”
Scott shook his head. “I had to stitch up some wild ones in the E.R. in North Bend—a fight at an unsupervised party. I haven’t dealt with any injuries caused by bad behavior around Thunder Point in the past year. Mac had some bullying issues before I opened up the clinic, but I’m not sure of the details. I’ve just had the usual stuff and the kids around here are better than most.”
“Strict parents, for the most part,” Seth said. “And a nosy town in general.”
“Do you have teenagers, Deputy?” Peyton asked.
He shook his head. “I’m not married and don’t have kids, ma’am. Asking about the teenagers is just something I do when trying to get a profile on a new place. The town isn’t new to me but the people are—the faces have changed after sixteen years. Right now I’m in orientation with Mac as my supervisor and part of the process is to introduce myself to the businesses. The stores haven’t changed much but the owners, managers and employees have.” He looked over his shoulder at the diner. “We used to go there after school and I hear Stu is still the owner and cook but now Gina is the head waitress. Gina’s mom was the waitress in charge when I was a kid.”
“And now Carrie has the deli next door and some of the best sandwiches and take-out dinners you’ll find around here,” Peyton said. “I haven’t cooked in a long time.”
“I’ll stop in and say hello to both of them.”
“What about Cliffhanger’s?” Peyton asked. “Was Cliff the owner when you were growing up?”
Seth shook his head. “His dad built that place about twenty-five years ago. I’m not sure when Cliff took over. Sometime after I left. Cliff’s family owns a lot of property around the marina. My dad used to say that place would never work here—too fancy for this town.”
“It’s full almost every night,” Scott said. “It’s where people around here go when they want a tablecloth.”
“I’ve been in there once or twice,” Seth said. “Good food, nice atmosphere. Listen, it’s nice meeting all of you.” He pulled out a business card. “I’m going to continue my rounds, but here’s the office number and my personal cell. Feel free to use it.”
Peyton laughed and took the card. “It really kills me the way everyone gives out their cell numbers! Everyone knows Scott’s and Mac’s and now yours. I’m used to the city where you never do that.”
The doctor put his arm around the P.A.’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “I have her cell number and with the right incentive, I can be talked into giving it to you. Until then, just call me if you need me. And I’ll call you.”
“Hey, if this is my town, I want to be called if there’s a problem. There are three ways to reach me—the office, the cell or 911 in emergencies. If you call 911 you’ll never get voice mail and whatever deputy is on duty will respond immediately. Don’t hesitate.” He smiled and gave them a little salute. “See you later.”
Seth made his way to the diner to say hello to Gina. They’d known each other growing up, but they hadn’t been in the same class or part of the same crowd. It was safe to say that he knew Carrie better. Carrie and his mother, Gwen, had been friends for years.
After a quick visit with Gina he went into Waylan’s. Damn if it didn’t look like the same crowd of old boys who had been in there the last time he’d stopped by at least ten years ago.
He headed for the flower shop, which still bore the same name although the owner was relatively new. Pretty Petals had been owned by his next-door neighbor when he was growing up, a single mother and Gwen’s good friend, Rose McKinley. Rose’s only child, Iris, had been Seth’s best friend when they were kids. Iris had sold the shop a few years ago after her mother had a stroke. Then Rose had passed away after a couple of years of infirmity.
Seth talked to his mother at least once a week, usually more often, and she kept him current on the happenings in town. Rose’s death had taken a toll on Gwen—they’d been close to the same age. Rose had died too young and it left Gwen feeling as if she was living on borrowed time. Gwen was now sixty-five.
Norm was seventy-two and just as cranky and unforgiving as ever. He might’ve sold the service station he’d owned for decades, but he wouldn’t retire. He still worked for the new owner. Gwen wanted to spend some of their money and retirement doing fun things, traveling, maybe taking a cruise or two, but Norm wasn’t at all interested. Why Gwen wanted to spend leisure time with the old coot was beyond Seth, but he felt sorry for her, sitting out her last years in the same small town, not having much fun except for church, cards and bingo, missing her best friend, Rose.
He walked into Pretty Petals and took off his hat. He said hello to Grace Dillon, the new owner. His mother had mentioned her several times. She was an attractive young woman about thirty years old or even younger, living the dream. She’d bought the flower shop from Iris and was thrilled to own her own business. Looking around, he saw that it had been updated since the old days.
“Well, Seth, are you back to stay?” she asked.
“I am for now. Just introducing myself to the folks in town, or reintroducing, as the case may be. How are things in the flower business?”
“Very pretty,” she said.
“Anything you’d like me to be aware of now? I’m prepared to take over Mac’s post in less than a week.”
She shook her head. “No flower thefts that I’m aware of. Do you have any plans to move to town, now that you’ll be here all the time?”
“Not at the moment.” He laughed a little. “My mother offered me my old room, but I think...” He ended by just shaking his head and Grace laughed with him. “It might not feel like a bachelor pad, living with Mom and Dad.” Not to mention, Dad hadn’t offered, he reminded himself. “But there’s no question, I’d eat well!”
“Maybe you can just swing by Mom’s at the end of your workday for a little something to eat before heading home to the bachelor pad.”
“There’s an idea. In fact, I should swing by there now.... How about a nice arrangement to take along? That always makes her so happy with me.”
Grace turned and pulled a centerpiece out of the cooler. “Do you like this fall arrangement? I can give it to you cheap—I worked it up a couple of days ago and it hasn’t sold yet.”
“I’m all over discounts,” he said, fishing out his wallet. “Have you seen Iris lately?” he asked without looking up.
“I see Iris every week. At least once, usually more. She likes fresh flowers in the house—it’s a hard habit to break. Sometimes she comes in and makes her own arrangement. I can’t tell you how often I wish she worked here—she’s got a gift. That’ll be ten dollars, even.”
“Ten? Wow, you’re sucking up to the law!”
“I hope I never have to use my brownie points,” she said. “Welcome back, Seth. It’s nice to know you’ll be taking care of us.”
“I’ll do my best. Be sure to let me know if I can help in any way. It won’t be flower arranging, I know that.” He gave her his business card with all the numbers on it. Then he gave her a second one. “One for the shop, one for home,” he said, though he secretly hoped that second card might make its way into Iris’s hands.
He wished he could reconnect with Iris. When they were kids, they’d been inseparable, playing kickball, softball, fishing, hanging out on the beach or sitting at one of their houses playing video games for hours. In junior high and high school they had taken different paths—he was on all the sports teams, and she was doing girl things, plus helping her mother in the flower shop. But she’d always been his closest friend even if he didn’t admit that in mixed company. He could tell Iris anything. Anything. If he had trouble in school, frustrations with football, couldn’t get his homework right or even if he liked some girl and she wasn’t liking him back. They talked on their porches, on the phone, anywhere they met around town. If their second-story bedroom windows had faced each other’s, they’d have been hanging out of them, talking.
Then there was some misunderstanding their senior year. Something to do with prom, but he didn’t remember all the details. She’d been angry that he wasn’t taking her to the prom, but he was going steady with someone and was planning to take his girlfriend. He and the steady girlfriend had a blowup, a messy breakup and Seth had been bummed. He had a few beers, and as usual leaned on Iris to talk about his girl problems. It was senior year, he’d had a spectacular year, was going to the University of Oregon on a full football scholarship in the fall and how dare that girl dump him right before senior prom. He could only vaguely remember, but knew he had uttered some lame thing to Iris like, I wish I was taking you, anyway. And then he got back together with the girlfriend the very next day. He thought Iris would be happy for him. He had expected her to understand—it had been a stupid spat and he and his girlfriend were all made up.
But Iris did not understand. He obviously didn’t remember the details the way she did because that was the end of their friendship. There was something mysterious about girls and proms because he couldn’t remember Iris ever being so angry. She’d beat him up a few times when they were little kids but even then she hadn’t been so mad. He apologized about a hundred times, but she was through. She wasn’t going to help him with his homework, listen to him moan and groan about his love life, cheer him on through all his bigheaded accomplishments and then just sit home with her mother on prom night. Over. Done. Find yourself another sap to be your pal.
From that day on, they were only cordial. When he’d been in the car accident at age twenty, she’d sent a card to the hospital. When her mother died, Seth came back to take his mother to the funeral. He also bought the biggest bouquet he could afford. They’d run into each other a few times over the years. They exchanged news, said nice things to each other, then...nothing.
He’d reached out to her. “Iris, are we ever going to be friends again?”
“We are friends,” she had replied.
“I mean real friends. Like we used to be.”
She wouldn’t even consider it. “No. I’m afraid not.”
“Why?”
She’d sighed deeply. “Because you could always count on me and it turned out I couldn’t count on you. I don’t do friendships like that anymore.”
Now he was back. Policing this town was going to be a big job. Mac had told him to be prepared to be on duty all the time whether he was on duty or not. There might be four deputies on the clock in town as well as the whole Sheriff’s Department not all that far away, but as the supervisor he could be called upon whenever a supervisor was needed. Seth understood; he knew that when he’d signed on.
Along with a commitment like that, he had two other impossibly big projects ahead. He had to somehow make amends with his father. And he had to get Iris back. He was going to find a way to show them both he might have been a shiftless, inconsiderate kind of teenager, but he was not that kind of man.
* * *
Iris popped into the diner on Saturday at around one. She was wearing running tights and shoes, a fleece vest and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her thick chestnut hair was pulled into a ponytail and poked through the back of her cap. She sat up at the counter.
“Out for a run?” Gina asked.
“Sort of. I told Spencer I wanted to bump into him this weekend and he said he’d be around all day today. So I thought a jog out across the beach was a good idea. That made me hungry and I’m thinking BLT, fries and a chocolate shake. I know, I should be looking for cottage cheese and fruit but Stu might burn it.”
“Stu makes a great BLT and fries.” Gina slapped the ticket on Stu’s counter. “You work closely with Spencer?”
“It’s only his second season, but if he sees me as a friend rather than administrator or counselor, we can keep the whole football team playing. If I know where those guys stand on schoolwork I can line up tutors before anyone goes delinquent because of grades.”
“Do you get tutors from the high school?”
“Some. And some from town. Scott will take at least one science or math student, I can take a couple, Laine Carrington can tutor in a number of areas including Spanish. Lou McCain teaches middle-school English so she can handle high-school English tutorial—she’s willing to help with a couple. Then there are teachers. Some of them get a little pissy about the attention the athletes get, but that’s in their minds—I’m paying attention to every student. Tutors are everywhere I look, including some students. I’d ask you, but I figured with a new husband and four kids...” She laughed. “And of course I have the usual number of requests from football players for pretty girls. I’m afraid they’re going to be disappointed.”
“Are they basically in good shape with grades?” Gina asked.
“They are, but it only takes one tough class to sideline a player. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about high school boys, they’ll die before they ask for help. That’s why we watch the grades so closely. And the football players, in danger of being suspended from the team for failing grades, are a lot more visible.”
“Iris, what made you decide to be a high school counselor?” Gina asked.
“I thought the fact that I didn’t have it that easy in high school gave me something to offer. Especially to the girls.”
“Grades?”
“Oh, hell, no,” she said with a laugh. “Other vitally important things—like hair.” She sighed. “I was awkward, not very popular, lonely...like a lot of girls. Boys, too. Even football players.”
“You’re so smart to make a career out of something that also gives something back. Or pays something forward.”
“Smart was never my problem. Like I said, it was fitting in, having good self-esteem, identity—like about ninety percent of the girls I know. The job is very fulfilling.”
The bell dinged and Gina turned to pick up Iris’s BLT. “Speaking of football players, an old football star is back in town. Seth Sileski.”
“Hmm,” Iris said, chewing her first bite. “I heard. Then I ran into him—we were both getting gas.”
“Didn’t you date him in high school?”
“Me?” Iris asked. “Oh, God, no! He was the most popular kid in school! The homecoming king and star football player. He dated the pretty girls.” She took another bite.
Gina laughed. “Excuse me, Iris, but you’re beautiful.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve grown into my looks a little bit, but back then? Ugh. Seth and I grew up next door to each other and we were friends. In fact, I helped him with English and biology. And I helped him prepare for SATs, which he could’ve cared less about since he was banking his entire future on football.”
“How’d you do on the SAT?”
Iris grinned. “I killed it.”
“Good for you! Big dumb jocks. Hey, what happened to his amazing football career? It seemed like it was here and gone awful fast.”
“Car accident,” Iris said, chewing. “He had a good year with the Ducks, then dropped out of college to take a contract with the Seahawks and played one season, or mostly watched one season with the pro team and then had a car accident. He was injured pretty badly. That was the end of his pro football career.” She took another bite, washed it down with chocolate shake. “We try to impress upon these young men that education really does come in handy. Football careers are fragile. Unpredictable.”
“Ah, I heard something about that, but no details.”
“As far as I know it was an accident. An unfortunate accident.”
“That’s where the limp and the scar came from?” Gina asked.
Iris nodded. She looked down at her plate and picked at a couple of fries. “It’s not that much of a limp,” she finally said. “He never told me exactly what happened.”
But Gwen Sileski had. Gwen told Rose and Iris everything about Seth. He’d fractured bones in his right leg and required rods, plates and screws just to hold him together. He’d had a lot of other injuries and was lucky to be alive. He’d had several surgeries to save the leg. The injury and the repair had left his right leg a little shorter and he wore a lift in his shoe. His mother said he wasn’t in pain, but it had taken a lot of therapy and training to get to that point. Iris couldn’t imagine how hard the police physical exam must have been.
“The accident. A leg injury,” Iris said. “But that scar...it almost does something for his looks, don’t you think?”
Gina smiled. “It would take a lot more than that to make Seth Sileski hard to look at.” She drew an invisible line across her cheek with her index finger.
“I know,” Iris said, patting her mouth with the napkin. “Do you remember him in high school? What a lady-killer.”
“I dropped out at fifteen because of a lady-killer,” Gina reminded Iris. “At that time in my life, they were everywhere. But I admit, I wasn’t paying too much attention to your slightly younger crowd. I remember Seth better from the past ten or twelve years, the times he came through town and sometimes stopped here for a burger or cup of coffee. Gwen must be so thrilled to have her son back in town.”
“I think so,” Iris said. “Listen, can I have the rest to go? I don’t think I’ll get through the whole plate.”
“Sure. I can’t put the shake in the carton for you.”
“I’ll work on that a little more. So, while I do that, tell me about married life and your new family.”
“Very complicated,” Gina said. “We have two college freshmen, my daughter and Mac’s daughter, still living at home and each working part-time, applying to universities to attend next fall. Mac’s schedule is going to be different—he’ll work nights for at least a year. Then there’s an eleven- and thirteen-year-old committed to lots of teams, clubs and lessons—that means driving. My college girls help a lot but their time is at a premium because of studies and jobs. But life as Mrs. Mac?” She shot Iris a very large smile. “I didn’t know I could be this happy.”
Iris sucked the last of her shake through the straw, making it gurgle. “You took your sweet time finding the right guy.”
“I know. Or he took his sweet time moving to town. Who cares? He was worth waiting for. Are you seeing anyone, Iris?”
“Nah. Not at the moment. There have been a few I thought had potential, but in the end I preferred my own company.” She stood and fished into her pocket while Gina transferred the rest of her BLT and fries into a carton.
“And the company of high school students,” Gina teased.
“They keep me on my toes. But I have my eyes open for an older, more settled model—say thirty-five, single, sexy and really into me....”
The diner door opened and Seth Sileski walked in, as if made to order. Beautiful Seth. High cheekbones, chiseled chin, moody eyes, white teeth, thin scar slanted across his cheek. Iris’s mouth fell open and Gina just laughed.
“Well, hello, ladies,” he said, taking off his deputy’s hat. “Iris, what are the chances you’ll let me buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Unfortunately, I’m on the run. I have plans that won’t wait. In fact, I could already be late.” She grabbed her to-go carton. “Thanks, Gina. See you around.”
“Why do you always seem to be rushing off the second I show up?” Seth asked.
“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. Next time, Seth. I’d better go.” She gave him an accommodating smile and headed out the door. She took off at a gentle jog down the street and up the hill toward home.
Why? she asked herself. Why the hell does he have to be here? Is this just some vindictive angel’s idea of a slow and miserable death for me? What did I ever do to deserve this? He could be here for a long time! How am I going to avoid him? Especially if he’s the person I have to work with if I have teenagers in trouble?
Really, hadn’t she been through enough in high school?
Two (#ulink_ca3bafac-9782-596d-a8bc-5a5734920ecb)
Iris had loved Seth since she was about four years old. He kissed her when they were six and she beat him up and that’s when she knew she’d probably love him forever. When kids teased her because she was named after a flower, he stood up for her. He punched Robbie Delaney for saying she looked like a scarecrow. Of course, she had punched Robbie other times, but it was still nice when Seth avenged her. When her curly hair was flat on one side and springy on the other, Seth laughed but then he said sorry. Then he laughed again and said sorry again. They used to play house, until his older brothers caught him and teased him—then he said it was rocket men and aliens or nothing.
When they were older, but not that much older, they each helped out with their parents’ businesses—Seth at the gas station and Iris in the flower shop. Because it was just Iris and Rose running the little flower shop, Seth would sometimes help with the heavy chores, if he could get away from the Sileski gas station where Norm’s boys all had chores. Seth knew, from paying attention to adult conversation at the dinner table, that Rose didn’t pull much income out of that little shop so he refused pay from her. He’d haul trash, and there was a ton of trash every day. He’d sweep, mop, clean shelves, deliver flowers on his bike and sometimes he even helped Iris make arrangements, but he made sure he was out of sight. He always claimed he was helping Iris get through her chores so they could play Doom or Super Mario Bros.
In high school when he helped out he used the excuse that he wanted to free Iris up so she could help him with homework. She was always a little ahead of him in school. When she was a sophomore, she didn’t make cheerleading, was devastated and he even let her cry all over him. In fact, it shook him up—Iris hardly ever cried. Even when she took a softball in the face!
The Sileski family did well financially. Flower shops in small towns are not the hottest ticket. Gas was a necessity, flowers were a luxury. Plus, there were no men in the McKinley family...except Seth. He cut their grass and was the guy they called if something heavy had to be moved or lifted. Since Iris’s mom and Seth’s mom were best friends, this pleased them both.
And Iris was the one Seth talked to. His brothers didn’t have a lot of time for their baby brother, except to burst their buttons proudly when he played some amazing football. Seth and Iris never walked to school together—they stuck with their friends of the same gender during school hours. They were only friends. Good friends and neighbors. But away from school, dates—which Seth had a lot of—and practices, they spent hours together. Iris had more girlfriends than usual her junior and senior years because Seth lived right next door and all the girls were hot for him. Seth had his buddies, but when it came down to confidential stuff, important stuff, they had each other. Of course, by high school Seth was confiding in Iris about girls he crushed on. He asked her advice all the time. Sometimes he fixed her up so they could double date, a special kind of torture.
Then in the spring of their senior year, when homecoming king Seth was planning to take homecoming queen Sassy to the prom, there was a little crisis. Sue Marie Sontag, known to everyone as Sassy because she was, cheated on Seth. She snuck out with Robbie Delaney and let him touch her boobs. Seth and Sassy had a big fight and they broke up.
Seth, destroyed by hurt and betrayal, went to an unsupervised party and downed a bunch of beer, something he was not known for. By some miraculous twist of fate, Iris had been at the party. She was hardly ever invited to cool parties. She didn’t drink, not because she wasn’t any fun but because she was a little nervous about what the cool kids might do to her if she got drunk. She’d heard tales. And since she had no experience with alcohol, she was afraid to sip a beer because they might strip her and nail her to the door.
But there was Seth, stumbling, falling down, blabbing his head off about Sassy cheating and dumping him, and good old Iris grabbed him. “Jesus, you’re disgusting,” she said. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You’re trashed.”
She put him in the flower shop van. “I can’t go home yet. I’ll get in trouble,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, because you’re wasted,” she said. “Smart.”
And then he poured his heart out. He couldn’t believe Sassy did that, went out with another guy and let him feel her up and everything. And the guy was someone Seth thought was a friend!
Iris couldn’t believe Seth hadn’t known that Sassy had the most handled boobs in the senior class. And Seth went on and on and on, as though Iris enjoyed these conversations about other girls. He actually nodded off now and then in the middle of his tirade.
He was completely toasted and she saved his ass, as usual. She drove out to a popular make-out spot, a lookout just off Highway 101, and parked the van that said Pretty Petals all over it. She listened to him moan and groan about his lousy luck with girls.
Then there was a twist.
“Why am I not with you, Iris? Why isn’t it you and me? We’d never do that to each other. You’re the only girl I ever loved anyway. You’re at least the only girl I ever believed in. Or trusted. You’ve been my best friend forever. I’m taking you to the prom, that’s what I’m going to do. It’s what we should do anyway.”
He started snuggling and nuzzling her. It occurred to her to push him away, but it was the first time he’d made sense as far as she was concerned. They had been best friends forever. They always got along better with each other than anyone else. And he was right—they’d never cheat on each other. If they went to the prom together, he wouldn’t have to worry that she’d flirt with other guys or pout or sulk. She’d have fun every second and make him laugh all night long. Of course, she wasn’t sure she could afford a prom dress, but she could work that out later. She had the love of her life telling her he’d finally seen the light and knew she was the right girl for him. At last.
He was kissing her. Not just nuzzling but full-on kissing, pulling her closer. Iris’s insides went all squishy. He was literally climbing on her, but there was a steering wheel in the way.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the driver’s seat and onto the passenger seat on the other side of the console. He made room so she would be under him. He reached down to recline the seat as much as he could, hovering over her, resuming the hot, wet, fabulous kissing, his hands running all over her. He was pushing his pelvis against her and it felt so good she pushed back. She instinctively assumed a kind of pelvic circular, rhythmic motion.
She considered stopping him. She knew she could tell him he was just drunk. But that squishy feeling inside traveled through her whole body and she was overwhelmed with yearning.
“You’re the one for me,” he said, kissing her neck, her shoulder, pulling her blouse apart so he could kiss the top of her breast. The next thing she knew he was licking her nipple. Then he had it in his mouth and she went crazy. She had absolutely no idea breasts were magic. It was as if there was a silk cord that attached her nipple to her girl parts and pulled tight. It was fantastic!
Iris had never been so far with a boy. She knew she was behind all the other girls, but she hadn’t dated that much and she sure hadn’t dated anyone who could compare to Seth. She would never forget the night the boy she’d loved for years finally realized they were meant for each other.
He fussed with her shorts, trying to open them. She honestly wasn’t sure what he was thinking, planning. She thought he might want to slide his hand in there, but frankly she’d rather they just resume that lovely grinding thing they were doing. “Come on, honey,” he said, kissing her. “I need you.”
Well, she’d always been there for him. Through thick and thin. If he needed her, she was there. She kissed him back and felt her shorts slide down. Her panties went with them. Then he was probing against her, pushing into her, groaning and saying things like ah, God and holy God and oh-oh-oh, God.... Then he trembled, panted and went a little limp.
It took him a long moment to recover but when he did he put a big hand against her cheek, gave her a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips, eased his weight off her and rose up. With a knee braced on the seat beside her, he pulled up and closed his pants. He helped her slide back into her shorts and made room for her to move back to her assigned seat. Once she had shifted across the console, she began adjusting her clothing. She had babbled. “Wow, I can’t believe we did that. And with no rubber or anything. I never expected anything like that. I don’t even know what to say....” But as she babbled what she’d been thinking was how happy she was to know that Seth felt the same way about her that she felt about him. And that she’d like a little more of that kissing, touching and grinding.
She got her shorts in place and fastened her blouse. Then she looked at Seth. He was asleep.
* * *
Iris wanted to get her head out of the past, get her mind off Seth. She called Grace. “Want to go up to North Bend? Maybe go dancing?”
“First of all, I couldn’t dance if you had me on puppet poles—I was on my feet all day and took flowers to Bandon for two weddings. Second, two women out at a bar on Saturday night are either looking for a pickup or want to be mistaken for a couple.”
“I haven’t completely ruled out a pickup,” Iris said.
“I have,” Grace said. “Little antsy tonight?”
“I’d just like something to do, that’s all. You used to be more fun.”
“I’m not sure about that. I think maybe you were slightly less fun.”
Grace had turned the flower shop around. She had done things Rose had never thought of. She reached out to neighboring towns with coupons and internet ads. She hired a PR firm from North Bend, had a great portfolio from the florist she had worked for in Portland and, after hiring a couple of local housewives part-time and training them, she was capable of flowering big events. Iris was glad it was Grace and not her working the flower business. But success could be draining.
“Tell you what I’ll consider,” Grace said. “I’ll go out to Cooper’s with you for a drink and a sunset. We’re not going to have too many more late sunsets....”
“It’s only September!” Iris said.
“And I’m getting out the fall arrangements and putting together a Christmas catalog. Before you know it, sunset is at four-thirty and I’ll still be working. I’ll even stop at Cliff’s for clam chowder on the way home if you want, but please don’t make me dance.”
“You’re a wuss,” Iris said. “I ran today and everything.”
“It sounds like you didn’t run enough....”
So they went out to Cooper’s. Iris thought it was probably better anyway—it was casual and laid-back. Troy Headly, fellow high school teacher whom she’d dated briefly, was behind the bar. He worked part-time for Cooper. He explained that Cooper was gone because the Oregon Ducks played California today and Cooper and Sarah had driven to Eugene for the game. The place was full but not busy—it was pretty quiet for a Saturday night. Iris and Grace sat at the bar and kept an eye on the deck, ready to pounce on a table out there when one became available. After getting a glass of wine each, Grace poked her and they dodged for an empty table and settled in.
Iris put her feet up on the porch rail and smiled. “I wonder what the poor people are doing.”
Grace laughed. “They’re having a glass of wine at Cooper’s.”
Grace was young to own her own successful business. She’d been working for a popular florist when she got a settlement or inheritance of some kind and went looking for a shop for sale. It was an ambitious venture for such a young woman, committing all her capital like that. But she knew what she was doing; she had been a shop manager before, kept the books, bought the stock, supervised the event contracts. She stretched her money further by renovating the space above the shop into a small apartment. And Iris was so glad Grace had been the one to buy the shop because they became good friends almost instantly. They had a lot in common—both very serious about their work, didn’t date much, both alone and without family.
Thunder Point was Iris’s family; the kids she was responsible for were her family.
Iris enjoyed having a friend she could actually be quiet with—Grace was almost like a sister. They spoke little as the sun was making its downward path. Just a remark here and there about the week, the special challenges. And how nice Sunday was going to feel. They watched the red-orange collage of sun, ocean and haystack rocks before them. And then the sky began to darken.
“How are you feeling about dinner?” Grace asked.
“Not that hungry,” Iris said. “A bowl of soup at Cliff’s will do it for me.”
“How about another glass of wine and one of Carrie’s deli pizzas? Cooper’s got a bunch of them in the cooler and Troy will put a couple in the oven.”
“I could do that,” she said.
“I’m going to go get us some tortilla chips and salsa and another wine. Hey, is that our new guy?” Grace asked.
Down on the beach, running at the water’s edge, it was him. Seth. What was he doing? He didn’t live here. But it was obviously him. She could tell by his light hair, his slight list to the right because of his limp. He was wearing fitted running pants and a sleeveless T-shirt, a jacket tied around his waist. “Yeah, I think that’s him,” she said to Grace.
“I’ll be right back,” Grace said.
So, he’s out for a run, Iris thought. What incredible dedication that must take, to keep up all his physical fitness even though he had issues with his leg. But then, that’s why he did it. He was a cop. He couldn’t be the slow one or the weak one if he came up against a bad situation. And by the look of his arms and shoulders, he didn’t end his workout with a run. He was so beautiful.
He must not have a good place to run near his residence, which she had heard was near Bandon. He got to the dock in front of Cooper’s and she expected him to turn and jog back to town. But, no. Hands on his hips, he walked in circles, slowing down, cooling off. Then he looked up to the deck. And smiled.
Crap! she thought. Is there no God? What the hell?
He walked around a little more, then wiped his face with the towel that hung around his neck. He climbed the stairs. Just as he hit the deck and headed for Iris’s table, Grace came out of the bar holding a glass of wine for Iris and a basket of corn chips.
“Hey, Seth,” Grace said in greeting.
“Hey, yourself. Is this chair taken?” he asked, indicating one at their table.
“No, please join us. Can I get you anything while I’m up?”
“Water would be good. Thanks.”
Grace disappeared again. Iris frowned. And what really pissed her off was Seth smiling. In fact it was a smile she remembered. It was the “gotcha” smile.
Grace was back with the water, adding salsa to the table, then disappearing again. Seth put on his jacket and zipped it up. “I don’t think this is going to work out for you, Iris,” he said.
“What?”
“Dodging me all the time. Avoiding me. Pretending you have important business elsewhere or appointments you’re late for. All your excuses. Sooner or later you’ll have to actually talk to me.”
“Oh, didn’t anyone mention? I’m moving.”
A laugh burst out of him. He opened his water bottle and chugged down half of the liquid in a couple of gulps. “No one mentioned,” he said.
“Are you everywhere?” she asked in a lowered voice. “You don’t live here! What are you doing here on a Saturday night? Running on the beach.”
“I had some paperwork to finish up today and I brought my running clothes. I wanted to see what’s happening on the beach tonight—Saturday night.”
“The kids usually hit the beach after games,” she informed him as though he wouldn’t remember.
“I know. I was watching last night from Cooper’s parking lot. It looked pretty familiar. And pretty tame. If memory serves, every night they’re not busy is party night.”
“And you decided to spy on them?”
“Well, I thought I’d have a look. And let them look at me—not far away in case anyone needs anything. Iris, we have to talk out this little grudge you’ve been nurturing for over fifteen years.”
She leaned toward him. “Two things, Deputy. One—we have talked. Several times. And two—I haven’t been nurturing anything. I’m merely minding my own business.” She grabbed a chip from the bowl and crunched down on it. Hard.
“Bullshit. You forget I know you. It takes a lot to piss you off and you’ve been stroking this one since our senior prom. I said I was sorry a hundred times. I was a dumb and insensitive teenage boy and I really regret hurting your feelings. I had no idea what it was going to cost me. Or you, for that matter.” He drank the rest of his water.
Iris looked over her shoulder and saw that Grace, in the bar, was up on a bar stool, laughing with Troy about something. She was probably giving Iris time to work things out with Seth while waiting for their pizzas. Grace knew about the prom thing, knew Iris was pissed. She didn’t know everything, however.
“I don’t know what it is about girls and proms,” he said. “You were absolutely crazed. And I never knew you to be that kind of girl, crying and carrying on. You used to beat me up, for God’s sake!”
“Apparently, I fell down on the job,” she muttered, lifting her wine.
He smirked. “I am an officer of the law, ma’am. Watch your threats.”
“Why aren’t you out with some skinny blonde tonight? Like usual?”
“I don’t think I know any around here. Is Sassy still around town?”
“She is, indeed. Need me to hook you up?”
“No, thanks,” he said. “She never left town? That’s a surprise. She was ready to move on. How’s she getting along?” he asked.
Iris took another sip of wine. “It appears she’s gained a couple of pounds.”
“That must thrill you.”
“And she lost a tooth,” she added. She pointed to a very obvious incisor. In front. “Here.”
He threw his head back and laughed so loudly that people actually turned and looked at him.
“Stop it!” Iris hissed. “You’re making a fool of yourself!”
“So you still hate her, huh? I’m honored.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I think I’ll get a beer and order one of those little pizzas.”
“Don’t you have to go home?” she asked.
He leaned his face toward her. He shook his head and grinned. “Nope.”
He went inside to place his order and grab a beer and was back altogether too quickly. He sat down and got comfortable. “I’d like us to talk about some things,” he said. “You’re obviously not quite ready to give up your anger, but there are other things. First—you’ve been really good to my mom. A good neighbor and friend. Losing Rose was probably as hard on my mom as it was on you. She’s so grateful to have you in her life and I’m grateful, too. At least your anger didn’t extend to her. Thanks for that.”
“Your mom is wonderful,” she said. “And I love her.”
“That’s very kind, Iris,” he said. “And I’d also like to talk about how we can work together on special programs for the high school. I have some ideas.”
“I just expect you to let me know if trouble comes to my school and I’ll do the same. We don’t do those horrific movies of horrible car accidents right before prom and graduation anymore. You know those awful things, trying to scare the lives out of the kids before they drink and drive or something....”
“That wasn’t what I had in mind, but if you like I can make an appointment.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe a few true stories on how to be successful in life. How not to be dead or maimed before the age of twenty-one.” He raised his brows. “How to have fun every day for life? Become millionaires in three easy steps? If I can figure out how to get their attention, I think I can hold it.”
She relaxed back into her chair. “I think I’d like to see your proposal, Deputy.”
“Sure,” he said. “And I’d like to try to make it up to you.”
“Not necessary.”
“I’d like to try,” he said. “What’s it going to take, Iris?”
“A miracle,” she said.
He lifted half of his mouth in a sly smile. “I’ll get right to work on that.”
Grace returned, followed by Troy bearing two individual pizzas. “Yours will be out in just a minute, Seth,” he said.
It was the three of them at the table and the conversation turned to general subjects. Troy brought a pizza for Seth and a beer that he claimed for himself. As a foursome, they told stories about the town, the people, old times and recent times. Troy thoroughly enjoyed hearing funny stories about Iris as a kid because, as Iris well knew, Troy had a crush on her. Before ten minutes had passed they were all laughing as though they’d been best friends forever. Laughing almost wildly.
Later that night, at home in the house she’d grown up in, alone in her bed, for the first time in a very, very long time, Iris cried. Cried for all she had missed, all she’d lost, all she felt was forever out of her reach.
She had missed Seth so much.
* * *
That pivotal Friday night so long ago, Iris woke Seth and took him home a little after midnight. He disappeared into his house after thanking her for the ride. She had expected a little more with the good-night than that, but she let it go. He was impaired, after all. But she did wake her mother and, sitting on her bed, told her that Seth had broken up with his girlfriend and asked her to go to the prom.
“As friends?” Rose had asked.
When your mother and your boyfriend’s mother were best friends, when you lived next door to each other, Iris knew she had to be very careful. “Maybe more,” she said, looking down shyly. Shy was never a word people used to describe Iris, because she had learned to compensate in high school. She could fake confidence she didn’t really have.
Iris knew even buying a prom dress would be tough for Rose. Prom wasn’t far off and Pretty Petals was only closed on Sundays so they went right away. They were just going to look around, decide if they should drive farther than North Bend, see what was out there. But they found a dress right away and fell completely in love. Iris didn’t think she’d ever stumble on a dress that she didn’t feel fat or pale or stupid in, but she did. It was dark purple and sleek, making her height feel like an asset. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from running next door to tell Seth about it.
At school on Monday morning she could hardly stop beaming. Books clutched against her chest, she went straight to his locker. “Hey,” she said.
“Iris! You’ll never believe it. I made up with Sassy! We had a long talk and decided we both deserved another chance. So—we’re going to the prom.”
Iris couldn’t move. Her mouth stood open, her eyes watered and she felt all color drain from her face.
“What?” Seth said. “I mean, she’s got the dress and everything. And she really wants another chance.”
“Don’t you remember?” she asked in a whisper before she could stop herself. “You don’t!”
“What?” he asked again.
“You said you wanted to go with me. You said we’d have more fun anyway,” she said quietly.
He rubbed his hand around the back of his neck and shook his head uncomfortably. “I sort of remember. I was just really mad. And I was kind of drunk....”
“Kind of?”
“Okay, I was drunk. I probably said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. But you understand, right? God, Iris, good thing you got me out of there before something worse happened.”
And then, like magic, Sassy was standing with them. Pretty, slim, sexy Sassy, threading her arm through Seth’s, smiling beautifully, her large blue eyes twinkling.
“Hey, see you later, Iris,” he said. “I gotta get to class, but I’ll catch ya later, right?”
She didn’t respond. She just stood there. Seth put a hand on Sassy’s shoulder and steered her down the hall. The warning bell rang—one minute to class. Just enough time for Seth to get Sassy to her class and then take off at a dead run for his own.
Iris didn’t go to class. She went to the girl’s restroom, to a stall in the back. She stayed while the final bell rang. He sort of remembered? Obviously, he didn’t remember much of anything. He didn’t remember that he needed her, that they did it, that he helped himself to her virginity. He sort of remembered talking about prom, but he’d been trashed, blabbering, was somewhere between furious and whiny and obviously not sober enough to be serious. Iris hated him. But at the moment, she hated herself more. Why hadn’t she realized he was sleepwalking through a haze of beer? Or something?
Maybe he wasn’t sure it was her. Maybe he not only couldn’t remember what he said but who he was with. There were a lot of kids at school who drank at every party, but Seth wasn’t one of them.
She spent about half an hour in the bathroom. Then she went to her locker, got her books and walked home. He’d come around later. That’s how it was with them—if he didn’t come looking for her, she’d go looking for him. But she made a pledge to herself—she was done talking. No one would ever know. Oh, she could get mad, fight with him about it, but if she did that, she would only end up humiliated. If anyone found out they’d only say, “You hear about Iris? Thinking Seth would take her to the prom instead of that hot Sassy?”
No, that wasn’t happening. She’d tell him he was an ass, accept his apology and then never talk to him again. She’d always thought Seth was special. Different. But he was just a dick.
Three (#ulink_34acb16e-1d7b-5c6d-a123-6753eaea5eab)
Seth’s days were long, but that was by choice. Thunder Point was his town and he had a terrible fear of missing something important. He didn’t have hard days, just long ones. He was scheduled to work five days a week from nine to five, but he started much earlier. He was usually in his office by six in the morning, while the next deputy didn’t come on duty until eight. And he didn’t leave Thunder Point before six or seven each evening. Until he got the lay of the land and figured out when the town was busiest, when there was potential for problems, he was there. Not always in uniform, but always ready. The office was closed Saturday and Sunday with a deputy or two on duty or on call in the evenings. Being on call on a quiet evening was the prime job in a quiet little town—you could go to a movie with your family and chances were good you wouldn’t be called out and you were still getting paid.
Seth was usually in town on the weekend, as well, for a couple of hours, maybe more. Not only was he trying to learn the town, he was trying to become the familiar face. To that end, he hung out a lot. He did about five hours a day of management, which included paperwork. He spent the rest of the time driving around, having coffee, grabbing a meal, talking to people on the street. He ran into folks at Cooper’s on the beach, Waylan’s, Cliffhanger’s, Carrie’s, the diner and the service station.
The service station was now called Lucky’s and the new owner, Eric Gentry, was a heck of a good guy and he’d turned that old wart of a gas station into a showplace. It was completely remodeled down to new pumps, and in addition to the extended maintenance shop he had added a classic car restoration garage including a paint bay. And the place was as clean as his mother’s kitchen. Eric’s equipment was new. It was no longer the greasy, run-down old shop of Seth’s youth.
“Every time I come to this place I wonder what happened. It’s nothing like the garage I spent half my life in. We all worked for my dad growing up. Forget labor laws, he had a broom in my hand when I was ten.” Seth laughed at the memory. “He said if he didn’t pay me it wasn’t against the law and he wasn’t a man to break laws.”
“That sounds like Norm,” Eric said. “He must be glad to have you back in town.”
Seth raised one eyebrow. “Does he seem happy?”
Eric laughed. “Well, no. But he must be....”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. My dad and I have what you’d call a prickly relationship.”
“I have to admit, he’s good with the customers,” Eric said. “How is he with your brothers?”
“He’s easier on them. But I was a big disappointment to Norm. I was supposed to have a big pro-football career, make lots of money...”
“Norm had his eye on your money?” Eric asked, sounding surprised.
“Nah, he has money. No one on earth knows how much, but he’s always been a miser, and he was real proud of the fact that this station was paid off when he put it up for sale.”
“And he asked a high price, too,” Eric said. “The station needed a lot of love, but the land it sits on is prime land. It was covered with junk, but it’s a good plot. It allowed me to expand. So if it wasn’t money?”
“I think it was bragging rights,” Seth said. “I was all-conference in high school, went to the U of Oregon on scholarship, was on the shortlist for the Heisman, took a pro contract with the Seahawks, played about an hour the first season and then, bam. Car accident. Football over forever.”
“How can a guy be mad about a car accident? Was it your fault or something?”
Seth shook his head. “Miraculously, it was not my fault, but I was speeding. I was cited for speeding, but the other guy blew a stop sign. Thing is, we might not have been so badly injured if I hadn’t been going too fast, so even though he caused the accident, I still feel responsible. Wrong place, wrong time, young guy who felt bulletproof in his fancy little car. That was me. If I’d been going slower, I might’ve been able to avoid impact. Or maybe we wouldn’t have been seriously injured. We’ll never know.”
Eric shook his head sadly. “Norm should be happy you’re alive.”
“Somewhere under that crusty exterior, maybe he is.”
“I know how you feel, buddy. I disappointed my parents, too. That might be the definition of youth.”
“How’d you do it?” Seth asked.
Eric looked surprised. “You mean you don’t know? Even Mac didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“I guess I should feel relieved—at least I’m not a legend around here.” He clapped a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “Brother, I went to jail. I served some hard time.”
“No kidding?” Seth asked, completely shocked.
Eric nodded and for a moment his green-eyed gaze was hard. “With a couple of buddies who decided to boost some beer while I waited in the car. One of them poked a finger into the pocket of his hoodie and said, ‘Gimme your money,’ which elevated it to armed robbery even though there wasn’t a weapon between us. We were pulled over ten minutes later, taken into custody and the two lunkheads I was with either got better lawyers or lazier judges. I didn’t have a clue what was happening until my public defender explained it to me. He wasn’t very good, it turns out. I did five.”
“No shit?” Seth said.
“Stupidity can be so expensive. And time-consuming.”
“I guess you turned yourself around....”
“Prison made me very smart. This is my second garage. I sold a profitable body shop in Eugene and invested in this place and it’s going well. Some of my old classic customers have followed me, we’re doing more maintenance work and staying open longer.”
“Are your folks still disappointed?”
“I think there are some years they wish I could erase. But I have a good woman in my life—Laine. Just having her with me has smoothed things over. I’m sure they can’t believe it—she’s smart and beautiful and a former FBI agent. My dad came around faster than my mom, but if I’m honest, my mom has always had a hard time being happy with me. How about Norm?” Eric asked.
“Oh, Norm has always been a little bit on the irascible side, but when I blew a pro football career, he got downright grumpy.”
“What are you gonna do about that?” Eric asked.
Seth smiled. “I’m gonna wear him down.”
* * *
Seth thought adding a good woman to the mix wouldn’t hurt his reputation, but the only one he could think of was still pissed about the senior prom, even though she was thirty-four years old.
It was weird, his feelings about Iris. They had developed over years and largely in absentia. He’d always known Iris was his best friend, even if he was loath to admit that to the guys when he was young. He and Iris always seemed to understand each other and met on equal ground. Since they’d never crossed that line into a romantic relationship, he’d dated other girls. Iris had dated other guys...hadn’t she? He’d always thought she was pretty. It was all irrelevant because they’d had a misunderstanding, the friendship was lost and Seth went away to college where the girls were plentiful and eager. He had fun for a while, no denying that, but there was always something missing for him. They didn’t understand him, for one thing. Iris had always understood him, even when he’d rather she not.
In the years that followed, after his recovery from the accident, there had been women now and then. Much to his surprise, they hadn’t seemed to be repulsed by his scarred face or his unsteady gait. There were a few he’d felt comfortable with for a time, some he had satisfying sex with, some who shared his interests, others who had been interested in building a future with him. But there’d never been one who could take Iris’s place. And it made no sense to him at all.
He thought by coming back to Thunder Point he’d figure it out. If he could just restore his friendship with Iris to what it had once been, he’d see their relationship in proper perspective, the way he had growing up. They were good friends, and that was enough. He’d marry someone someday and maybe have a couple of kids. Iris would do likewise. Partnered with other people, they’d be couple friends. Their kids would play together. Life would be fulfilling and logical once again.
Of course, it was all complicated by one small thing. He sometimes had dreams of making love to Iris. Okay, two small things—Iris had always been pretty but over the past dozen years she’d grown truly beautiful. It was obvious to him that she didn’t realize it, but there was no question about it—she was a knockout. Maybe it was as simple as fixing her hair or realizing her confidence, but the reason hardly mattered. The same girl he’d taken for granted when they were kids, the childhood friend who could kick a soccer ball as far, hit a baseball farther, was now the most beautiful woman in town.
And those dreams. They embarrassed him, and he’d had dozens over the past fifteen years. Why Iris? The only girl in school he hadn’t tried to seduce. Truth was, he would have been scared to death to try—she’d probably coldcock him! He’d tested her out several times by carefully explaining his lust for other girls, and right after telling him he was a pig she’d give him pointers on how to talk to a girl, where to take her on a date, what to do to get her attention. If Iris had any interest, she wouldn’t have done that. But still—he dreamed of her. He had to figure out how to make that go away.
At the end of business, he changed into his running clothes and took off across the beach. It always made him feel better about his new position. Then he grabbed his duffel and dropped in on his mother, who let him use the shower. Normally, he’d just head home in his running gear but tonight he had a date. Sort of. Mac was off duty. His wife was busy with their girls so Mac had suggested they get together for a beer and some crab cakes and talk over how things were going for Seth in the new job.
Seth walked into Cliffhanger’s. He liked this place—the bar was upscale and the dining room was kind of fancy. A person could take a woman to dinner here and feel downright adequate. In fact he saw the back of an attractive blonde standing at the bar having a glass of wine—pretty hair, even though it was pink on the ends. Nice body. She might turn around and have the face of a horse, but from the back...
“Seth?” the woman said. She turned toward him. A better detective than he was, she’d seen his face in the mirror. “Is it really you?”
He smiled at her. “Sassy?”
“Please, I’m Sue. I left that horrible nickname behind.”
“Sue,” he said, his grin widening. Fat? Missing a front tooth? Iris had been baiting him. It made him feel loved. He wasn’t sure why. “How have you been?”
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’m your new town deputy. Mac was promoted and is working out of Coquille now.”
“Really? That’s fantastic! We’ll have to get together!”
Seriously? he thought. Never gonna happen. “You’re married, right?”
“Not anymore. But if you are I can get a date and you and your wife...”
Seth instantly saw nightmares. But then, even though Sassy hadn’t gained weight and wasn’t missing an incisor, of all the women he could think of, Sassy was the last one he’d like to spend an evening with. “I’m not married, but my work schedule is terrible,” he said.
“What are you doing here at Cliff’s?” she asked.
Seth, bedeviled, started to laugh. He couldn’t help picturing Sassy as overweight and missing a tooth. He tried like hell to stop, but he couldn’t seem to suppress his laughter. That damn Iris! She was a troublemaker.
“What’s so funny?” Sassy asked. She frowned as she sipped her wine.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his thumb and forefinger rubbing his eyes while he tried to get control of himself. She had pink hair! And he couldn’t remember her boobs being that big, but then, she was older. Did boobs grow? “I’m meeting Mac,” he said, still laughing. “It’s kind of a business meeting, since I’m taking over his post.”
“Sue,” someone said. “That’s fish and chips, coleslaw, garlic toast.” Cliff put an enormous brown bag on the bar.
She passed him a credit card but glared at Seth. “Are you laughing at me? At my hair?”
He sobered instantly, though the laughter stayed right there, right behind his lips. He sought an excuse. “Your hair? No, of course not. I was just thinking, remember when we were about sixteen? Remember when you were cheering a hockey game? Out on the ice? And you were skating backward and got rammed by Robbie Delaney? And he sent you flying across the ice at about fifty miles an hour?” He didn’t add, The same guy you cheated on me with.
“It wasn’t that funny,” she said. She leaned on the bar to sign the charge slip.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sure if you’re the one getting hit, it’s not. Sorry.”
“I had problems with my tailbone for years....”
“Ah, there’s Mac!” he said. “You know Mac, right?”
“I don’t spend a lot of time with the law,” she said stiffly.
Still struggling not to laugh, Seth stuck out his hand. “Hey, Mac. You know Sassy...I mean, Sue Marie Sontag, right?”
“Delaney,” she corrected. She shook Mac’s hand but gave him a tight smile.
“You married Robbie Delaney?” Seth asked. “Wow.”
“I’d better get this home to the kids.” She lifted her wineglass and gulped down what was left.
“Kids?” Seth echoed. And then in spite of himself he started to laugh again, picturing her with a hockey-player’s smile. He was going to kill Iris.
“Three,” she said, greatly irritated with him. “See you around.”
When she’d cleared the door, Seth sat at the bar and started to laugh again. He put his elbow on the bar, his head resting on his hand and just shook his head.
“That must have been some joke,” Mac said.
“That damn Iris,” Seth said.
“Iris is here?”
“No. No, she’s not,” Seth said. “Iris and Sassy—I mean Sue Marie—were kind of competitive in high school. It’s a long and complicated story, but I accidentally asked Sue and Iris both to the prom, but I went with Sue. And I had a horrible time, but I never did have good instincts about stuff like that. Iris apparently still hates her. I was surprised to hear Sue was still around Thunder Point and Iris told me...” He stopped to laugh a little more. “She told me Sue had gotten fat and was missing a tooth right in front. She didn’t mention the pink hair.”
“Cliff, two beers, whatever is on tap,” Mac said. Then he turned to Seth. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know,” he said.
He remembered the last time he and Iris had had that problem—out-of-control laughter. They’d been seventeen and in English class. They sat at the same table for two. Their teacher, the dowdy and homely Ms. Freund, had noticed Mr. Gaither, the new, slightly younger and handsome advanced algebra teacher in the classroom next door. Ms. Freund had been seen staring and nearly swooning. He and Iris had been joking about how easily Ms. Freund could be had if Mr. Gaither played his cards right. And then she came to school with her hair streaked and, boy, was it streaked, nearly striped in yellow, and in some bizarre updraft style that looked lacquered together. Her eyelids were blue and she damn near killed herself in her spike heels. She wore a new outfit—a skirt so tight she could hardly move and a fitted sweater with a low neckline so she had some pathetic cleavage. In fact, they thought it looked like there might be cotton peeking out. And before class was over, after all that action at the blackboard, Ms. Freund’s left boob slid to her rib cage. Iris and Seth lost it. They started to laugh so hard they almost had to be physically removed from the classroom. They could not get things under control in the principal’s office. They had been completely consumed by the stupids and couldn’t even talk about it weeks later without losing control. Every hour of detention was worth it.
Damn, he had missed her.
* * *
Since John Garvey, the senior guidance counselor, had taken his retirement from the school district, Iris was left in charge of the counseling office in the high school. Garvey said it was an early retirement but if you asked most of the teachers, and Iris for that matter, it wasn’t quite early enough. Garvey had an antiquated notion of what high school students needed and often he did more harm than good. He was quite famous for telling young girls they “weren’t college material.” As if these girls didn’t have self-esteem problems enough!
It did leave Iris with an awful lot on her plate. A new counselor was being sought to work with her and, in the meantime, she was promised an intern from the college. It was going to take time to find another counselor—the requirements were steep and the pay wasn’t great. Iris needed that intern yesterday—it was testing time in the high school and she was setting up SAT and ACT test schedules. Doing this without help left precious little time for actual counseling. And everywhere she looked, she saw the need. She was on the lookout for behavioral problems, academic struggles, self-esteem issues that led to things like anorexia and bulimia, bullying—and that wasn’t just students bullying each other. Sometimes teachers were far too corporal or verbally abusive and sometimes they suffered the same from students. She kept vigilant for signs of depression, anxiety, drug and alcohol issues, unstable home lives. Her days were long and she worked at home on evenings and weekends—no spare brain cell was unused.
And she loved it.
Iris hadn’t known when she was in high school that this was the perfect direction for her, but then her counselor was John Garvey, who had not done one thing to help her discover her aptitude. At the time, neither Iris nor her mother had any idea what Garvey should have been doing with her—a student who’d not only graduated with honors but had done some serious damage to an SAT. Fortunately, Iris had had better guidance at the university and really took to social work. So began her driving need to get her master’s degree and return to her high school as a guidance counselor and do for the kids and teachers what John Garvey had not. Since she’d been at Thunder Point High they’d instituted a no-tolerance drug-and-alcohol program and a zero-tolerance-for-bullying program. And while it hadn’t exactly been an issue, there was also a no-tolerance-for-cheating program in place now. Three absolutely necessary and useful programs that Garvey had neglected if not ignored.
Her desk was awash in paper she’d been struggling to control for hours when Troy Headly gave a light tap on her open door and stuck his head in. “Hey,” he said. “Got a minute?”
She put her pen down and smiled at him. “Are you here on business?”
He didn’t smile, which was very unusual for Troy. Often his visits to her office had more to do with flirting, since they’d been a couple for a while last spring and she’d broken it off, to his extreme displeasure. Troy was a great guy, a lovely man, but it just wasn’t working for her. Troy had been looking for another try ever since. He fully expected her to come around and admit they were right for each other.
“Can I close the door?” he asked.
“Business, then,” she said.
He sat in the chair that faced her desk. “How well do you know Rachel Delaney?”
She shrugged. “I know her a little. She’s never been referred to me. I went to school with her mother.” She grinned. “Back in the day they called her mother Sassy. She was the most popular girl in the senior class.”
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Troy said.
“Sassy was kind of mean.”
“Rachel seems to be enjoying similar popular status, though she’s a junior this year. Beautiful girl and I’ve never seen her be mean. She’s very sweet. Know anything about her family? Home life?”
Iris folded her hands on top of her pile of papers. “Where’s this going?”
“Maybe nowhere. Just that I have this hunch...it’s possible she’s being abused.”
“In what way? What gave you your hunch?”
“Either she’s one of the klutziest girls in her class or someone’s knocking her around. A few weeks ago, I noticed some bruising on her neck and shoulder and asked her what happened. She said she got tackled playing football on the weekend. A few weeks later she claimed to have taken a volleyball in the face, causing her black eye. Since then she’s wearing lots of sweaters and high necks.”
“It’s getting cold,” Iris said.
“Yeah, I know. I touched her arm yesterday to stop her from leaving class so I could give her back her paper, which was very well done and I wanted to praise her. But she winced and jerked away. I asked her if anything was wrong and she said she was sore from a big workout. She was very nervous and not too convincing.”
“Do you have any experience with this sort of thing?” Iris asked.
“I have some experience at how people cover it up. When I was growing up our neighbor was physically abusive to his family. He was such a smooth-talking bastard, all smiles, always had the best of everything. Except his wife and kids had no freedom of movement and everything had to be perfect. The wife and mom—she couldn’t even visit at our house for a cup of coffee. My mother kept saying it was all wrong, my dad kept saying she had a wild imagination and should mind her own business. Then one day the police came. The oldest girl was taken away in the ambulance, the rest of them were bruised and shaken up and he was arrested. It had been going on a long time, we learned. My mother could tell. My father wanted her to leave it alone. That’s it,” he said. “That’s all I’ve got. Could be she’s really clumsy or maybe her father is hitting her.”
“Actually, her father isn’t in the picture just now. She, her mom and two younger brothers are living with her mom’s sister and brother-in-law and their kids. It’s very crowded and it’s not a big house. I suppose that could be an issue, but Sassy and her sister were always close. And if you knew Sassy—she wasn’t one to take any crap. From anyone.”
“Is there anything you can do about this?”
“Uh-huh. There’s lots I can do. I can give the PE teacher a heads-up to let me know if Rachel has signs of problems that include injuries. I can talk to her teachers from last year and ask if they had concerns about her. I can check for absences or illnesses, look over her grades, watch her movements around campus. If someone is hitting her or otherwise hurting her, there will be other signs. And then, of course, I can talk to her.”
“She’s a good student,” Troy said. “And she’s not isolated. Batterers usually isolate their punching bags. Rachel is popular and has quite a posse.”
Iris grinned at him. “Why don’t you get your master’s and work with me? You have such good instincts about this sort of thing.”
“Why would I want to go back to school when I can surf and ski and dive on my time off?”
That was Troy, Iris thought. The fun guy. Active, busy, always on the move, dive trips to faraway waters, ski trips to exotic runs, very athletic and every sport was extreme and on the edge. It was one of the things she had enjoyed about him even if she didn’t share his kind of fun—he was untamed. Adventurous. He was a little younger than Iris—just turned thirty. And he was an exceptional history teacher.
“You can leave this in my hands,” she assured him. “If you think of anything more, let me know.”
Four (#ulink_019be097-841c-5381-a646-536ac51942a9)
Seth hadn’t expected his return to Thunder Point to mean he’d spend so much time with his mother, but he visited her several times a week. He had planned to spend more time with both parents, gradually wearing down Norm’s orneriness. Every week or ten days he’d wrangle an invitation to dinner. “Don’t mention to Pop that I’m coming or he’ll find a reason he’s needed at the station,” he told his mother.
“Oh, I think I know your father by now,” she said. And Seth could see by the look on Norm’s face that he was always surprised to see his youngest son present.
While Seth wasn’t making much progress with his father, something he hadn’t intended at all was showing on his mother. She was growing stronger, more confident and happier because he came around so much. He brought flowers or sweets sometimes. He happily ate her leftovers for his lunch—pot roast and potatoes, chicken, stuffing and gravy, meat loaf, lasagna—all the calorie-rich meals he grew up on. He worked out a lot so he needed those calories. Norm was cursed to be skinny but strong as an ox while Gwen grew ever rounder and softer, her exercise coming from housework and cooking. But her cheeks were definitely rosier, her eyes sparkled again.
The sparkle had left Gwen’s eyes for the first time when he’d been in that accident and lay in a hospital in Seattle, fighting for life, fighting for his leg. And then again some years later when her next-door neighbor and best friend, Rose, died. Gwen was strong—she had carried on. But it was apparent that having Seth home, obviously trying to reconnect with the father who had once been so proud of him, was filling her well.
While he was there for lunch she chattered about her mah-jongg group, shopping, his brothers, Nick and Boomer, and the grandkids. She asked about his business in town—she wanted to know all about the problems he encountered from warning drivers to slow down to the occasional arrest. She scurried, making him comfortable and feeding him. When she finally sat with him she didn’t eat; she just gazed at him and listened to every word he could get in between swallows.
“Do you see Iris?” she asked.
He nodded and wolfed down more of his meat loaf sandwich. “I run into her sometimes. You probably see her more than I do.”
“During school she seems to be busy all the time.”
“That’s understandable,” he said.
“I could have her to dinner! You could come!”
He put down his sandwich. “Let’s not do that, Mom.”
“But Seth, have you spent any time with Iris?”
“Sure. A couple of weeks ago I wrapped up my run at Cooper’s place and had a beer and pizza with Iris and Grace. We caught up on a lot of old stories. But if it’s all the same to you, I don’t want you to set me up.”
“But Seth, you and Iris were always so close and I—”
“Mom, no matter who the girl is, if I’m going to date someone I don’t want to be hooked up by my mother!” He narrowed his eyes a little bit. “Do you understand this?”
“Well, of course!”
“And you swear—no funny business?”
“Humph. I suppose.”
“Behave or I’ll stop buying you flowers.”
“Seth...”
He took another bite of his sandwich. “I have wondered—who’s cutting her grass? I’ve been away a long time,” he said.
“This or that high school boy sometimes, but mostly she takes care of her yard herself. You should see that house, Seth. All she’s done inside since Rose passed—she turned it into a showplace. It was always a nice house, but Iris really made it modern and beautiful.” Then, with a hand cupping her mouth, she continued as if imparting a secret. “I think selling the flower shop gave her a little nest egg.”
Seth laughed at his mother. It was Thunder Point at its best—everyone knew everything about everyone, right down to who they were dating and how much there might be in their nest egg. Plus, his mother really wanted him to see the inside of that house.
* * *
There were high school football games every Tuesday and Friday night and when they were home games, like tonight, Seth was absolutely certain to be there. Since he was still fairly new on the job, he wore his uniform. There were two deputies on duty plus school security, but being uniformed was all part of the town recognizing him as the law. A few more weeks and he’d be at the high-profile sporting events in civilian clothes, just as Mac had done the past few years. And with a gun on his ankle and a cell phone in his pocket, he’d be as much at the call of his staff in need of a supervisor as any other time.
Seth didn’t wander around in the stands but stayed at the end of the bleachers, on the track. From that position he had a view of the stands, the field, the parking lot, the concession area. Football was one of the town’s priorities and most of the town was there. As people passed him they said, “Hey, Seth.” Some stopped to talk a minute, shaking his hand. He saw some familiar faces—Mac, Gina and Mac’s younger kids gave him a wave; the coach’s wife, Devon, and their kids, Austin and Mercy, were right behind them. Predictably, there were a few guys he’d played ball with in high school, but it wasn’t the first time he’d seen them—the ice had been broken before he took over the substation.
He saw Iris climbing up a bleacher aisle to a higher perch. She was followed by Troy and Grace. She looked over her shoulder and laughed at something and it made him smile. That might be the thing he missed most—her wit, her unrestrained laugh. When she forgot she was mad at him, she laughed like old times, like that night they had pizza on Cooper’s deck.
“Hi,” a voice said.
He turned and, standing right there, a few inches shorter than him, smiling kind of wistfully, was Sassy. Um, Sue Marie. He smiled at her. He forced himself not to think about a gaping hole in her mouth from a missing tooth.
“I have a feeling we got off on the wrong foot,” she said.
“You still come to all these games?” he asked, because surely she wouldn’t know that he’d be here. He didn’t even live around here.
“I didn’t for years, but my daughter is cheering.” She pointed over to the line of varsity cheerleaders in their short skirts. “Rachel, third from the end.”
Whew, Seth thought. Little glass of wine before the game, Sassy? Her breath smelled like a winery.
“She looks just like you,” he said. “Hard to believe you have a daughter that old. You still look sixteen.”
“Aw. You’re just flattering me. That’s what I remember best about you—you’ve always been such a gentleman. Why don’t we try this again, Seth. Let’s get together for a drink or something. Have a few laughs. We can talk about old times.”
He gave her a very patient smile. “Tell you what, Sassy. I think we’d be better leaving the past where it is.”
“Come on,” she said. “We had a few problems. We were kids....”
He shook his head. “We’ve moved on from high school and I won’t hold a grudge if you won’t. But if we talk about old times, we won’t be laughing. I’m sure I’ll see you around town.”
“That’s a no, then?”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the invitation,” he said.
“I guess you’re seeing someone,” she said.
“Well, not exactly, Sassy, but I—”
“Sue Marie!”
“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “You were pretty sassy back then. No, I’m not involved with anyone at the moment. We’ve already tried this and it didn’t work then. I doubt it will work out now.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might want to make amends?”
He looked at her with patience. Or maybe it was tolerance. “I believe we’ve already done that, too.”
“Oh! I take back what I said about you being a gentleman!”
They weren’t going to talk about the elephant standing right between them, he thought. They dated, she cheated, they made up, dated some more, she cheated some more. And she had married one of the guys she’d cheated with—Robbie Delaney. Robbie, who had once been Seth’s close friend and teammate, though they’d been competitive. He hadn’t known, until coming home, that Robbie had won.
And Seth had dodged a bullet.
“I apologize if I was rude in any way, Sue. Thank you for the invitation. I’m afraid I have to decline the offer. I do wish you the best in everything. Really.”
Against all good sense, she reached out and gave his biceps a gentle stroke. “I guess I’ll have to be patient. It will take time for you to realize I’m just not the same girl.”
He stopped himself from saying, I think we’ve done that before, too. Instead he said, “I guess none of us are the same. A lot of stuff happened between then and now.”
She flashed him a brilliant smile and then turned away. Those jeans of hers couldn’t possibly have gotten any tighter. And he wondered if she found boots with platform soles and four-inch spike heels inconvenient on the dirt track or in the bleachers, but so far she was maneuvering very well.
He turned to look up at where he’d last seen Iris and met her eyes instantly. She’d been watching. She didn’t look very happy. And he smiled.
* * *
This was the problem with never getting over what you were determined to get over. Iris saw Sassy approach Seth and her brain went into rewind, remembering every detail of her senior year. Sassy in her short skirt with her pom-poms, her blond hair flouncing, her blue eyes shining at every male within a twenty-mile radius, her big straddle jumps that showed off her itty-bitty panties. Sassy had been a cheerleader since about the sixth grade while Iris couldn’t even dance, much less leap into the air. She’d probably kill herself trying.
“God, are you into him?” Troy asked.
“What?” she replied, turning to look at Troy.
“The new deputy. He seems to have your complete attention. Crush time?”
“No! I grew up next door to him, you know that. I’ve known him all my life! We’re barely even friends now—just acquaintances. We’ve hardly seen each other in years. But that woman is Rachel’s mother.”
Troy squinted toward the track where Seth stood and watched as Sue departed. “Looks like she could be Rachel’s sister.”
“She’s our age. Up close you can tell she’s not a teenager. Even if she dresses like one. Apparently she’s into him—Seth.”
“You were watching her?” Troy asked.
“Shh,” she warned. “Let’s not talk about this in a public place.”
Of course she’d been watching Seth, but Iris had managed to remain circumspect until she’d seen Sassy saunter over to him. And even though they were quite far away, it looked as if she’d stared up at him with adoring eyes as he’d looked down at her with a sweet smile. And then she’d affectionately rubbed his muscled arm. I’ve been here before, she thought dismally. And she wasn’t entirely surprised to note that it bothered her just as much.
It was another win for Thunder Point and when the game was over, Iris, Troy and Grace headed out of the stands. “Let’s get something to eat,” Troy said.
“You had two hot dogs!” Iris reminded him.
“I’m a growing boy and you girls are starving, I can tell.”
“I’m getting out of here,” Grace informed them. “Saturday is a work day for me. I have a wedding tomorrow—I’ll be up to my eyeballs in flowers by nine and the wedding is in Coos Bay. See you later.”
Grace bolted for the parking lot but Iris and Troy were sidetracked by students and teachers who stopped to say hello and talk about the game a little. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Seth walking away from the field and noted that he didn’t have much of a limp. She frowned. Maybe he wore that lift in regular shoes but not in his running shoes? Then he keyed his radio and jogged away toward the parking lot.
“Come on, Iris, let’s get something to eat. How about pizza?” Troy said.
“Do you know what that place is going to be like after the game? It’ll be all night before we get one.”
“I’ll take you to Cliff’s. We’ll get something light—oysters or crab cakes or something. Come on.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Seth and one of the other deputies had a trio of boys with their hands braced against the police SUV. Seth was on his phone while the deputy was patting them down. “Are those our boys?” she asked.
Troy squinted toward them. “I don’t recognize anyone. Maybe there was some trouble from the other school.”
Iris strode purposefully toward the scene and when she got closer she nearly bumped into the assistant principal, also checking this out. “What’s going on, Phil?”
“Just a little scuffle,” he said. “Except two of those boys are from Canton and one of them is ours. Looks like two on one.”
“What’s going to happen to them?”
“Seth is taking the two Canton boys to his office, Charlie will bring in our boy. They’ll sort it out from there.”
“But if our boy wasn’t doing anything wrong...”
“If he wasn’t, and I think he wasn’t, then he’ll make out fine.” He nodded. “I’m sure Seth and Charlie know what they’re doing.”
“I’m sure,” she said. But she watched while the boys were loaded into two different Sheriff’s Department SUVs. She had great math skills—that would leave only the high school security guard at the stadium while it was being emptied of football players, cheerleaders, band members and fans, and one on-duty deputy to keep an eye on the town tonight. But then, Seth wouldn’t leave Thunder Point until he was comfortable that everything was under control.
She turned and bumped right into Troy. “Oops, sorry. I think maybe you’re right—we should get a pizza.”
“We could be standing around for a long time,” he said. “Unless you want to drive over to Bandon...”
“No, I thought maybe it would be a good idea to hang around Thunder Point tonight in case there are other kids from Canton who aren’t happy about the results of the game.”
He smiled, shook his head and chuckled. “What are you going to do, Iris? Bust up fights?”
“Hey, you’ve never seen my right hook.”
“A testament to my good manners. I’ll meet you over there.”
* * *
There had been no trouble in town after the game, but hanging around the pizza place made for a late night. Troy was a very popular history teacher—and surfer, skier, scuba diver, white-water kayaker—a young legend with some of the students with similar interests. He tended to draw teenagers like a magnet. Iris was popular in her own right. Though her title was guidance counselor, she liked to think of herself as a social worker assigned to a high school. The result of Troy and Iris hanging out in town after a big game was typical—they were surrounded by a crowd. Everyone wanted to know who was being taken away in the police cars, or wanted to talk about the game, or wanted to gossip about teachers, students, townsfolk. And of course the girls always questioned Iris. “Are you dating Mr. Headly? He’s so hot.”
The evening even ended in a fairly typical way, with Troy following her home and jumping out of his car to catch her before she got inside her house. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “The whole high school wants us to be dating again.”
“They don’t know we were dating before,” she reminded him. They had mutually decided it wasn’t a good policy unless they were serious. If they turned serious the staff at least deserved full disclosure.
Troy had been serious. Iris had decided, after giving it a great deal of thought, that they weren’t really right for each other. Not that there was a single thing wrong with Troy. For her, there just weren’t any bells.
“Kiss me good-night and see if you suddenly change your mind,” he begged.
She laughed and touched his lips with a finger. “You’re just about my favorite teacher in the world. There’s not another at the high school I have more respect for. And you’re fun! I want to hang out, do fun stuff, be your friend, but that’s all I’ve got. Troy, if you don’t hear me on this, then we can’t even be friends.”
“I think you could be making a big mistake here, Iris,” he said. “You could be giving up the best thing that ever happened to you!”
“Oh, you could be right. But I have to go with my instincts here. Are we on the same page or do I have to stop walking to class with you?”
“Whatever,” he said, backing off. “Really, I think I’d rather you hate me than find me so appealing in all areas but one.”
“There’s no but,” she said. “I think you’re wonderful in all areas. But I don’t think we have a future together because I’m not in love with you. I think you’ll eventually find someone more suited to you and agree. Someone who makes your whistles go off in a huge way. But not if you keep looking at me and neglect keeping your eyes open for the one who’s really right for you.”
“You’re just about out of time,” he warned. “Pretty soon I’m going to get sick of trying.”
She gave him a brief, sisterly kiss on his cheek. “I love you in every way except the right one. The one you’re looking for. Besides, if I took you as my chosen one, it would break the hearts of countless high school girls.”
“And of course I take great consolation in that!” he said with heavy sarcasm. “You’re going to regret letting me get away.”
In fact, she knew she might. It kept her awake very late into the night. They’d known each other for about a year when he’d asked her to go mountain hiking in late spring. They’d gone river kayaking in the summer. They’d also taken in movies, eaten pizza and popcorn, sat on the beach for quite a few sunsets. And they’d made love. Yes, they’d tumbled into bed after the third or fourth date and it was good. Very satisfying and completely five-star. But it hadn’t done to her heart what she’d been looking for, what she’d been needing. She’d had several long talks with herself about being ridiculous—there was nothing about being with Troy that put her off or sent up a red flag. But there was also nothing that made her chest expand and brain completely lose focus. She didn’t think about him constantly, didn’t want to phone him at three in the morning, didn’t miss him horribly when he went on his rafting or scuba trips. She could marry him and probably be 75 percent content.
But if she could see a life as 75 percent happy with a man before she even met him at the altar, what were the odds of them having a successful family life together? Shouldn’t she be at least 100 percent first? Then maybe after marriage and all its familiarity and struggle and predictable disharmony from time to time, 75 percent would look pretty good....
She came to a sudden realization. Oh, God, that’s probably what Seth thinks about me! He likes me a lot. He misses me and wants me back, but as his buddy, his pal, not as the love of his life! He’s been trying to explain that to me for twenty years at least and I just won’t get it! Troy isn’t right for me in all ways just like I’m not right for Seth in all ways!
It took such a long time to fall asleep and then, just because sometimes she was the most unlucky person alive, Norm Sileski decided it was the perfect Saturday morning to cut his grass. She rolled to her side and put the pillow over her head. During the week she had to be up early, perky and ready to face three hundred and fifty high school students with a positive attitude and creative problem-solving skills. On the weekend she liked to sleep in.
The pillow wouldn’t make Norm’s mower go away and she rolled over with a growl. She looked at the clock—it was nine o’clock. When she had finally nodded off at three she’d had a mental plan to wake up at about eleven and have lunch for breakfast. He’d robbed her of at least two hours!
Then she heard the mower ram into the side of her house under her bedroom window and she sat up with a start. What was he doing in her yard?
She grabbed a flannel shirt hanging on the peg in her closet and put it on over her skimpy pajama tank top. Barefoot in the cold October morning, she stormed outside to tell him to stop, to go worry about his own grass, hers was only going to need one more mowing before winter anyway. But when she got to the backyard she was nearly run over by Seth. He stopped the mower, put it on idle so it only hummed and grinned. “Morning.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m giving your grass a mow. I’m being a good neighbor.”
“A good neighbor would let me sleep!”
“Out late last night, Iris?” he asked.
“Sort of. Then I had trouble falling asleep and Saturday is my sleep-in day. Now put your mother’s lawn mower away and go home.”
“Come on, Iris. I’m just being helpful. Now you don’t have to pay a kid to do it and you don’t have to do it yourself. You can go fishing or something instead.”
“I just want to sleep for two more hours!”
He laughed. “Jesus, are you ever grumpy in the morning. I’ll be done here in a flash....”
“Just quit. I’ll finish it. Go away. I’m sleeping!”
“That’s obvious,” he said, making a motion with his hand over the left side of his head, indicating a protruding, springy mound.
She hadn’t looked in the mirror. Her hair tended to go a little berserk at night, especially if it was a tossing-and-turning night. She glared at him. “I. Said. Go.”
“Come on, Iris,” he cajoled. “Go make some coffee. You’ll feel better in a few minutes and by then I’ll be done here.”
She took a couple of steps toward him. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
He smiled pleasantly. “I’m wooing you. I’m wearing you down. I want you back.”
“You’re full of shit,” she said. She turned to walk away.
“Come on, Iris. I need you.”
She wasn’t thinking. She really had been asleep and she was really tired. And he really had pissed her off before he said the thing that brought a curtain of red over her eyes, like a fountain of blood. She whirled and slugged him in the jaw as hard as she could before stomping off.
Just like when they were eight years old.
Seth’s heel caught on the wheel of the lawn mower and he tripped backward, landing on his ass. It ran through his mind that if he’d seen that coming he wouldn’t have let her get away with it, then just as quickly he reminded himself she already had. So he grabbed his left knee and began to moan and groan very loudly. “Ohhh. God, Ohhh. Ah! Jesus! Ohhh.”
Through the slits of his eyes he saw her turn and cast a stricken look his way, her mouth open in a nice, shocked O.
“Seth,” she said, rushing to him. “Oh, God, did you hurt your bad leg? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—”
Then she squealed as he grabbed her, pulled her down and rolled until she was under him. He pressed her down and his eyes glittered as he flashed an evil smile. “My bad leg is the right one. But you hit a police officer. That’s assault. It might be a felony. Depends on the extenuating circumstances.”
“Like you’re just a bastard?” she asked, struggling to push him off.
He held her down effortlessly. “Like temporary insanity. On your part.”
“Get off me, you brute. Or I’ll scream so loud your mother will bring the cleaver.”
“You already screamed. The mower is still humming. Why’d you hit me? I was trying to be nice.”
“No, you weren’t! You were being your usual manipulative self!”
Offended, he grabbed her arms. “When was I manipulative? I’m never manipulative! Unless it’s work oriented! I’m trained to manipulate criminals!”
“Oh-ho, is that right? The last time you said you needed me, you helped yourself to my virginity and took someone else to the prom! Now let me go!”
He was stunned. He went perfectly still. And he was much heavier because he wasn’t holding his weight off her. Iris was gasping for breath and pushing with all her might. He outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. He lifted up, but just enough so she could breathe. He obviously wasn’t letting her get away until he had answers. “What?” he said.
She took a deep breath. Tears came to her eyes. “You heard me. That night. When you broke up with Sassy, got drunk and I took you out of that party before you got in real trouble. I took you to the lookout to sober up a little. You said, ‘Come on, Iris, I need you.’ Then you got me out of my shorts and...”
“No,” he said.
“I know. You don’t remember, right? After it was over I could figure out—you probably didn’t even realize it was me! Jackass!”
“No,” he said again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
She laughed. “So everyone in school, in town, could say mean things like, ‘Who is Iris kidding? Why would he hook up with her?’ Don’t you think it hurt enough without that?”
“God,” he said, shock still paralyzing him. “Iris...”
“Oh, shut up and get off me!”
He rolled off her and sat on the grass. He pulled his knees up and leaned his arms on them. “Jesus, what an asshole I must’ve been.”
Iris sat up. “Yes to that.”
“Iris, seriously, I’m sorry. I took advantage of you. Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head and a couple of tears slipped out of her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently. In the moment, it had been like a dream come true! “Not physically. I think you were just moving on instinct and I didn’t stop you. I didn’t realize you didn’t know what you were doing. Or who you were doing it with,” she added with a bit of a choked voice. She looked away.
“Oh, I didn’t know what I was doing, but I must’ve known who I was with.” He shook his head. “I guess that explains the weird dreams.”
“What dreams?”
“Dreams about... Let’s save that discussion. It’s pretty embarrassing. Are you sure I didn’t force myself on you? Like a drunk seventeen-year-old moron?”
“No,” she said weakly. “I must admit I had stupidly been waiting forever for you to discover all those skinny, acrobatic cheerleaders weren’t right for you and you belonged with me, so...” She shrugged. “Thus, my broken heart. Then my anger. Maybe we can get over this now that you know. And you can leave me alone.”
“You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”
She just shook her head.
He looked down at his knees. “It must have been thrilling for you,” he said sarcastically. “A teenage drunk climbing all over you.”
“Yeah, well...I’d always heard the first time is awful.”
“Jesus, Iris. I don’t know how I’m going to make this up to you. Sometimes it feels like every time I turn around I have one more stupid move to make amends for. This one is really going to take some thought.”
“Yeah? Well, listen, Seth. Let me make it easy for you because I have thought about it. It would be best if you just let it go, get on with your life and stop expecting me to be that girl again. I’m not, okay? I’m not your best friend anymore. I’m not going to be the one to pull your fat out of the fire every time you’re in trouble. You’re on your own. Just leave me alone.” She pulled herself to her feet.
“I don’t blame you for being angry,” he said.
“It wasn’t just the prom, you stupid shithead,” she said quietly, looking down at him. “It was everything. You used me as your tutor, your counselor so you could talk about your problems with all the pretty, popular girls, your playmate if you were bored. That night you said I was the only girl you’d ever really loved and then you just used me and tossed me out the next day.”
“Iris—”
“I’m over it, Seth. I’m over you. If you think I’m ever going to risk that kind of hurt again, you’ve lost your mind.”
Then she walked away and didn’t look back.
Five (#ulink_20c74df0-143c-51ec-a586-7953458386a4)
Iris wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She looked out her kitchen window and there he sat on the ground beside the lawn mower like the big dumb ox he was. Well, she was glad it was out. Now Seth knew everything that had pissed her off. Now he could go away because she was over it. Over him.
She made sure her doors were locked, then she threw herself facedown on her bed and smothered her cries in the pillow. She let all of the emotion out.
Before too long she heard the mower start up again. It ran for about ten minutes, then stopped and she was enveloped in silence. But the noise inside her head was deafening.
This was good, right? Getting it all out, all of it. Venting all the hurt and anger and feelings of betrayal. Because he hurt me so much. He’s been such an ignorant fool!
He’d been seventeen and stupid. And you were seventeen and not much smarter, her thirty-four-year-old self added.
Well, of course that internal argument was going to happen—she was a social worker, a counselor to young people. Young people who made mistakes every day, some that were hard to recover from, very hard to move on from.
Iris didn’t turn on the TV or her stereo. She cleaned house, literally. She cleaned out cupboards, closets, washed clothes, scoured the bathroom and the kitchen, threw away stuff in the refrigerator, filled bags and boxes with things she’d been meaning to get rid of for a long time. Clothes for donation were bagged, kitchen items that had been around since she was a teenager were boxed up—some to donate and some to pitch. She folded her underwear into little squares, rolled her towels and put them in an attractive wicker basket, changed the sheets, washed the rugs that fit into the washing machine. When the sun came out and the afternoon grew warm, she opened the windows to air out the house.
On Saturday night she had a glass of wine with her light dinner and put on an old movie—one of her favorite old chick flicks that always made her cry. She’d learned a long time ago that if there was a good cry growing in your chest and throat, a nice tearjerker could get it out of you without forcing you to dwell on the real issues.
What if she’d gotten pregnant from that spontaneous drunk coupling? she wondered. What would they have done? Would they have talked about it? Gotten married or something? Gotten married and given up their educations? Gotten married and maybe missed that fast car that had ended a prestigious football career? Gotten married because they had to and divorced later because Seth hadn’t been ready to be a husband and father, only a famous football player?
As it had happened, her period had started right away and she’d devoted herself to avoiding Seth. About a week after his reconciliation with Sassy, Seth had approached her. “You have any plans to go to the prom?” he’d asked.
She’d looked at him in horror. “You know I don’t, you imbecile. You said you wanted to take me, then you said you couldn’t because you made up with Sassy.”
“Hey, I would’ve taken you, Iris! I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you’d take that so seriously. I was just pissed.”
“Good for you,” she had said. “And now I’m just pissed. I hope you have an awful time!”
“What do you want me to do, Iris? Tell Sassy I can’t take her and take you instead?”
“I wouldn’t go with you if you were dying and it was part of your Make-a-Wish list!”
That was so vulgar of her, she thought. She’d been that outraged. It wasn’t like Iris to make cruel remarks like that. Although they hadn’t talked about it, she’d heard he had a miserable time at prom and the homecoming couple broke up again. That made her perversely happy.
Iris didn’t talk to anyone all weekend. She didn’t leave her now sparkling house until three o’clock on Sunday afternoon when she drove to a donation bin and unloaded her stuffed car into it. Then she filled the Dumpster behind the flower shop with all the trash she’d cleaned out of her little house.
That night she had a long soak in the tub. She lit candles in the bathroom. She put on soft, clean pajamas, curled up on the couch and got out one of her favorite books of inspirational quotes—something to buoy her spirits and put her back on track. After an hour of skimming she found one that spoke to her. Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies—Nelson Mandela.
“Enough,” she said aloud. “That’s enough. Moving on now!”
She closed the book and went to bed. She slept soundly for ten hours.
* * *
Seth wasn’t nearly busy enough all week to distract him from thinking about Saturday in Iris’s backyard. There was no way he was ever going to remember the events she described, but he couldn’t help but wonder how closely her description fit some of his dreams. He had dreamed of making love to her in the flower van. It had been clumsy and embarrassing in his dream. From what he gathered, it had been so in reality, as well.
There had been other dreams about her, but they’d been fantasy dreams that took place in ideal settings—rooms with satin sheets, forest glens covered in silky grass, even on the hoods of sports cars. He had enjoyed those. There might’ve been a dozen starring Iris in as many years but since he’d had lots of dreams about lots of women, he hadn’t thought the ones with Iris had any real significance. In the past seventeen years he’d only had a couple of serious relationships. They hadn’t lasted too long nor had they been very fulfilling. He’d had plenty of dates but the right woman had always eluded him. Probably because she was back in Thunder Point, mad as hell at him.
He saw Iris twice that week. Once, he’d seen her riding her bike to school on a sunny morning, waving and laughing with the kids. The other time he’d seen her from his office as she went into the diner. He had lacked the courage to follow her in there and try to talk to her. No, he wasn’t going near that until he knew what he was doing. And he didn’t. Not yet.
The following weekend it was time for him to head to Seattle to visit his friend Oscar Spellman. He was driving up on Friday afternoon, would spend Saturday with Oscar and return to his home in Bandon on Sunday, ready to take on Thunder Point on Monday morning. The timing for a long drive alone in the car couldn’t be better.
Friday night was clear and the weekend was sunny, not so unusual on the coast of Oregon in October but in Washington it was a treat. All the way up the freeway he’d been thinking. Remorse is a lot of hard work and boy, had he done a lot of hard work.
He’d been drafted by the Seahawks when he was in his first year of college. He heard they’d been surprised to find him available, but they wanted him before he got hurt because he was fast and strong and there was a very good chance he’d make them money. He got himself an agent to negotiate a good deal. His first pro year, during which he’d played a little bit, he made four hundred thousand dollars, all of which he spent on taxes and a late-model Ferrari sports car. Considering he’d never driven anything but his dad’s old clunker truck, he really thought he was somebody. And one night, right before training camp for the Seahawks started, he took his new car out for a long drive along some Washington back roads. A miserable old Chevy sedan blew through a stoplight in front of Seth and Seth couldn’t stop. He tried to avoid a collision but his car basically T-boned that old Chevy.
That was Oscar.
It was determined that Oscar had fallen asleep at the wheel after working a double shift at a manufacturing plant near Seattle. He was a forty-five-year-old machinist with a wife, Flora, and two kids. There had been two witnesses stopped at the same crossroad who could validate it. Oscar had been responsible for the accident. But Seth had been going eighty in a fifty-five zone. Ironically, he had just slowed down around the curve. He’d probably been doing ninety, maybe more. He was cited for speeding.
Both drivers were rushed to the hospital after being cut out of their cars. Seth hit Oscar’s car on the driver’s side. Seth and Oscar were both gravely injured, but Seth recovered. It took a long time, several surgeries and a lot of determination, but Seth pounded his way through the worst of it. Oscar’s spinal cord was severed.
About a year after the accident lawyers for Oscar Spellman filed a civil suit alleging that the injuries to Oscar would not have been as catastrophic if Seth had been traveling at the speed limit, if he had exercised caution while entering the intersection. All Seth had left was his signing bonus, but it was huge to a kid from Thunder Point...or a crippled black man and his family from Seattle. Seth’s league insurance had paid for his hospitalization and rehab, but Oscar, a husband and father, was going to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, unable to work, without the use of his limbs, without income. And all for the thrill of seeing how fast that little silver car could go.
“Don’t worry. We can win this,” Seth’s lawyer had said.
But that wasn’t a concern for Seth. “I don’t want to win it.”
He’d lost his education, his career, his savings, his potential to play sports all in one split second. All for a stupid mistake.
He’d visited Oscar for the first time about a year after the lawsuit. Seth was still walking with a cane, the scar on his face still bright pink. The first half-dozen visits had been really short and awkward, but then Oscar started to just sigh deeply whenever Seth appeared. “What the hell you doin’ back here, boy? Like I ain’t got enough trouble in my life?” he’d say.
Over time, Oscar regained the use of his left arm and hand. It was clumsy and not very strong or reliable, but he could feed himself and he could play checkers. He was a smart man and Seth taught him to play chess. Oscar had more time to learn about the game and practice than Seth did so the challenges became pretty one-sided with Oscar on the winning side.
“At least you have your mind,” Seth said. “Ever think of being grateful for that?”
“Ever think it might be a curse?” Oscar replied.
For the past dozen years Seth had been dropping in on Oscar and Flora every other month or so. He went to the graduations of Oscar’s kids and held a new grandchild. Seth always called ahead to make sure they weren’t having friends or family in. He didn’t want to be in the way. Oscar was sixty now and his health was rocky; just being confined to a wheelchair meant all kinds of medical problems chased him. He occupied the same motorized wheelchair with a neck brace that he’d been riding around in for years, but his kids and his church had fixed him up with some computer equipment so he could study, read, learn everything under the sun he wanted to know. With the fingers of his one good limb he could write and he had developed a whole network of friends outside the walls of his home.
Flora opened the door to Seth on Saturday morning. She’d mellowed a little over time and she’d grown beautiful in her maturity. She had help tending to Oscar from her son and daughter, and a nurse’s aide visited regularly to bathe him and exercise his limbs. Flora’s life was challenging but it wasn’t a torture of hard labor. It was safe to leave Oscar for a few hours at a time and she could take him places sometimes. When she saw Seth she smiled at him and he admired her handsome face. She was also sixty, but her face was smooth and unwrinkled. She kept her hair very short and black; she was trim and muscular, a vision both admirable and unfortunate to him. She had to work hard every day of her life.
She hugged him. “How you doin’, son?” she asked, her arms holding him sweetly.
“I’m getting by fine, Flora,” he lied. “You have somewhere to go? I can sit with the old boy for a few hours if you need a break.”

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