The Homecoming

“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....”