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The Homecoming

Page 72

   


“Some chicken thing...”
He laughed against her lips. Iris, he’d learned, didn’t do a lot of cooking and certainly nothing fancy. But then, neither did he. “What kind of chicken thing?”
“Sort of an enchilada thing, but not really.”
“Iris, you going to make me guess?”
“Well, it’s a couple of cans of cream soup, a can of tomatoes, some chicken br**sts, sour cream, taco seasoning...”
His lips went to her neck and he sighed, resting them there. “Sounds delicious.”
“We used to make it in college a lot. It takes no skill, no brains.”
“Is it ready?”
“A little longer,” she said. “Want to tell me what’s wrong, Seth?”
“I don’t want to move,” he said. “Are you going to get mad if I say I need you? Because I need you, Iris. Like I need air.”
“I need you, too.”
“Can we stay like this forever?”
She laughed and ran her fingers through the hair at his temples. “With food and bathroom breaks?”
“Together,” he said. “I just meant can we stay together forever?”
“I’m hoping so. I’ve loved you forever. Except when I hated you...”
“Good, then.” He kissed her neck and pulled her closer. “Forever, then. We should get married before I do something stupid again. Maybe the second school is out? Whenever you can be ready.”
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” she asked him.
“No,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about anything sad or mean or wrong right now. You make me feel like everything is good. When I’m holding you, everything is sweet and clean and kind.” He pulled away a little and smiled. “And aroused.”
“I like that, too.”
“I should get a shower before that chicken thing is done.”
“I should, too,” she said.
“We should save water,” he told her.
“We should. I think I’ll just go ahead and turn off the oven so we don’t have to rush too much while we’re saving water.”
“Good idea. I’m not that hungry. For food, that is. Baby, I love you so much. You make my world right.”
* * *
Late that night, after lovemaking and chicken casserole that vaguely resembled an enchilada pie, Iris snuggled in Seth’s arms and listened to him talk about his day. He groaned about Sassy wearing eau de vineyard, flirting with him a little sloppily while Robbie was trying to negotiate some kind of custody shift to try to protect Rachel. Rachel, who didn’t seem to want too much protection. Then on to visiting with one of the biggest ass**les in town, the guy who had probably personally taught Brett Davis how to pummel a woman.
“I wake up in the morning thinking how lucky I am to live in a sweet little town where the people are nice and generous and care about each other. And then I’m reminded that all people have problems, sometimes of their own making, and that it’s my job to recognize them and do what I can to protect the innocent,” he said.
“If the town and people were as perfect as we like to sometimes believe, we wouldn’t need a deputy, Seth. We’re humans. We stumble all the time. And now, from what you tell me, even Brett is innocent, in a way,” Iris said.
“In a way that bears watching very closely. The fact that maybe he can’t really help it is no excuse to let him run wild. Watch, Iris. And be careful. Apparently he has a real short fuse, even if he doesn’t let it show often.”
“But his own father! Even though I know that’s pretty typical, that very often the abused grow up to become abusers, it still throws me.”
“One of these days, Brett is going to realize he’s bigger and stronger than that jerk and there could be a dangerous power shift. I’m not supposed to ever say things like this, but I hope I see it.”
“Seth!”
“I know. That’s no solution....”
* * *
When Iris was back at school the next morning and took her post outside her office door, it felt like the sweet little town again. The next few days were happy with the student body anticipating the holiday break coming soon. The kids smiled and waved, stopped to chat, held hands with their boyfriends or girlfriends, laughed and carried on. Sometimes they could make her feel so old, like when a couple of rowdy boys rushed up to a girl in the hall and tried to make a sandwich out of her, putting her in the middle to the hysterical giggles of the girl and everyone around them. Then they’d see Iris standing there and it would be Oh, no! Ms. McKinley! Oh, sorry, Ms. McKinley! And she’d give them a stern look and waggle her finger at them and they’d run off, laughing at their close call.
There was invariably some kind of game of catch taking place in the hall—baseball, basketball, football or personal items like a phone, book or purse. She would yell at the kids. Give it back or get detention! Or a great big guy would pick up a smaller boy and carry him over his shoulder, a classic fireman’s carry, until Iris told him to put the kid down. The response was always the same. Yes, Ms. McKinley.
Some of the kids clutched their books seriously, some moved in packs down the hall, laughing and gossiping as they went, some clung close to the walls while others strutted proudly.
So often she would think, wasn’t it just a few months ago I was that age? Then the town deputy would come down the hall and she’d have a serious time warp. When they had been students here, they’d spent so much time together. She’d adored him then almost as much as now.
“Good morning, Ms. McKinley,” Seth said, smiling at her.
“Deputy,” she acknowledged.
“Everything calm this morning?” he asked her.
“In fact, it’s almost hopeful-looking,” she reported. “I saw Rachel with her girlfriends and they were whispering and laughing, headed for their lockers. They’re some of the prettiest girls and have been to hair-flipping school.” She demonstrated the movement of flipping hair over a shoulder. “Brett passed by with one of his friends and he said good morning to me with a smile. Robbie has called me twice to say that he thinks the worst of it is past—Rachel agrees it’s not a good idea to date Brett and claims they’re broken up for good. She wants to stay at Thunder Point but live with Robbie if that can be arranged. And Robbie, bless his little heart, said anything can be arranged as long as it doesn’t involved her getting treated badly by some guy. She’s going to cheer practice again and Robbie’s coming inside to pick her up at the locker room door. There hasn’t been a single issue, he says. Not even phone calls or texts. Things have been peaceful. Maybe this is going to be okay.”