The Homecoming

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.”