by Robyn Carr
“I didn’t think this town would ever forget,” Gina said with a laugh. “They had all been taking bets while we stumbled around trying to get together.”
“I wonder how many in town have been watching me and Seth....”
“Oh, I think many,” Gina said, smiling. “You don’t look unhappy.”
“Just a little nervous,” she said. “His mother is going to need an explanation for why his car was in my drive this morning.”
“Child’s play,” Gina said. “We had to deal with two sixteen-year-old daughters! Talk about nerves!”
“But I’m an expert on sixteen-year-old girls,” Iris said. “I’m definitely not an expert on sixty-five-year-old mothers!”
“Same principles apply, I think,” Gina said.
* * *
Iris popped her head in the flower shop and met eyes with a grinning Grace. “How’d those calla lilies work out?”
“Very well. You’re quite a clever matchmaker.”
“I had nothing to do with it! I was in my pajamas and had just plunged headfirst into a smutty novel when he came pounding at the door, a desperate man, demanding flowers for you. What in the world did you do to him?”
“I told him he had to go away.”
“I’m going to remember that move,” Grace said with a laugh. “In fact, I’m going to call Sam Worthington and tell him to leave me alone! And that I’ll be right here if he’s upset.”
* * *
Iris bought a beautiful carrot cake from Carrie’s deli and walked up the hill to her house, except she went next door and knocked on Gwen’s back door. When Gwen opened the door, Iris immediately flushed pink. “Hi,” she said, holding out the carrot cake.
“Come in, Iris, come in. Bearing gifts?”
“And maybe an explanation,” she said a little timidly. “About this morning...”
“Shh. Seth would have a fit if he knew you were trying to explain. Besides, I’ve been hoping for years that the two of you would find each other. I don’t know what happened between you, but you and Seth sure stumbled around for a long time.”
“I was angry with him, Gwen. We had a fight in our senior year. It was all a horrible misunderstanding. Of course, it was mostly his fault....”
“Of course,” Gwen said.
“I brought you this cake. Have it for dessert. Norm will love it. I know you could bake an even better one, but this will give you a couple of hours to yourself instead. And about last night...”
“Shh,” she said again. “I’m dying to know everything, but you better keep it to yourself. Let’s just say I have a feeling those spare shirts he’s been keeping here are going to move out.”
Iris blushed again and felt so juvenile. “Possibly.”
“I can’t believe I went pounding at your door! He’s been so adamant that you’re just friends that when I saw his car there in your drive, I wondered if something had gone wrong! I didn’t even think! I just wanted to know he was all right!”
“That’s completely understandable,” Iris said.
“No, it’s not, it’s completely ridiculous. I know you kids think I grew up wearing poodle skirts to the soda shop, but that was the generation ahead of us. I was born in ’49—I came of age in the sixties! Free love, Haight-Ashbury, Vietnam, make love not war... Please, we were wild and daring. I married a man seven years older than me—I thought my parents were going to die! He didn’t have two nickels to rub together, either, but he just romanced me and I was sunk.”
Norm? Iris thought. Rule number one for Seth—he was not allowed to turn into a crabby old fart who just ignored her.
“At least you and Seth have some advantages. You have educations, good jobs, have known each other forever,” Gwen said.
“I’ve always loved Seth,” she said. “But, Gwen, we just admitted our true feelings last night. What if it doesn’t work out? Again?”
“Ach, don’t borrow trouble—if it’s meant to be, it works out. If not, just break an old woman’s heart and think no more of it.”
Iris burst into laughter. “You have a very mischievous side.”
“So it’s been said. I just want you both to be happy, together or otherwise. He’s my baby and you’re like a daughter. I’ve wanted this for longer than I can remember. And I promise—I’ll stay on my side of the fence.”
Iris was surprised to feel her eyes blur. She suddenly sniffed.
“Iris, what is it?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head, trying to gather strength. “I miss my mother at the strangest times,” she said. “I wish the two of you were sitting here with me, listening to my lame explanations and excuses and...and letting me tell you how much he’s always meant to me. I’ve missed him, Gwen. Seth is a good man.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know. And it’s good you’ve finally realized it. He desperately needs help picking out some undershorts!”
Iris laughed. “They’re awful, aren’t they?”
“I bet they were on sale. He’s a good boy, but he’s a little tight like his father.”
* * *
Seth called Iris in the early afternoon. “Why don’t you do whatever Saturday chores you have, then come over here. I’ll cook and you can see where I used to hang my hat before I found a way to stalk my obsession in Thunder Point.”
“Are you trying to avoid your mother? Because I talked with Gwen and she’s not going to be a problem if you’re at my house.”
“No, there’s no avoiding my mother. She’ll notice if my car is at your house and she’ll notice if your car is gone all night. And I hope your car will be gone all night. I just want to spoil you a little. I’m not a bad cook.”
At six o’clock she walked into a simple but classy town house in a nice little complex just north of Bandon. He had a yard the size of a postage stamp, a patio that could hold two people comfortably, a living room, dining room, kitchen and two upstairs bedrooms. After seeing the family tartan boxers, she was a little concerned about his furnishings, but it turned out he’d been friendly with Pottery Barn and had quite decent furniture.
There was no sign of another woman here. No distinctly female touches. And it seemed Seth was willing to spend hard-earned money on some things—like his furniture and his mattress—but there was no question he’d purchased his towels and dishes on sale.
She kicked off her shoes and sat at his small dining room table, letting him serve her. He, of course, wore his shoes. That simple thing filled her with great tenderness for him; the shoes kept him even and steady.
They each had wine and she touched his glass with hers. “We’ve really overcome quite a lot in our lives, haven’t we? Multiple losses and adjustments,” she said. He’d had his losses, his career plans shifted, the trials of dealing with a disability. As for Iris, she’d been raised an only child by a single mother, then had buried her, leaving her very alone.
“I think we cut them in half by moving forward together,” he said. “What do you think?”
“I think I’d have a real hard time turning back now.”
“Good. That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
Fifteen
Iris went to Thunder Point High on Monday morning, walking on rainbows. It was when she was standing outside her office door, saying good morning to students, that she realized with some shame she hadn’t thought about Troy all weekend. Well, she’d been on her honeymoon! And she hadn’t broken up with him or cheated on him or anything like that. But still...
She knew how Troy felt about her, how much he hoped she’d change her mind and try again with him. It was pretty irrational of him and she had convinced herself that it all boiled down to the fact there wasn’t much of a dating scene in Thunder Point once you graduated high school. That was how their first date had started—they were colleagu
es, both single, and he’d asked her if she wanted to go hiking. Then they’d met for a beer or two, went rafting. Then they’d kissed, and when they kissed she’d thought, That was certainly nice. A few weeks later they’d tumbled into bed and it was likewise very satisfying. Iris was looking for the right man, but she wasn’t a nun.
It took hardly any time at all to realize that she enjoyed spending time with Troy—rafting, snorkeling, hiking. And there was no question that she enjoyed sex. But what was not happening within her was longing. She’d just tried to ignore that little missing link, right up until Troy suggested they think about moving in together.
That’s when she’d hit the brakes. The guidance counselor and the history teacher? Living together?
Thunder Point wasn’t the most conservative town or high school on record. In fact, they were pretty easygoing about such things. Except when two teachers started dating or living together, it was expected that they were a serious couple, headed for at least a very long-term relationship if not marriage. There was spending the occasional night together, discreetly, and then there was sharing an address. The latter required intentions that wouldn’t set a poor example for students. After all, part of her job was teaching them that sex between loving couples could be a positive thing, and sex for sport and kicks could be fraught with danger.
She knew instantly Troy was a relationship that for her was fun and for him was serious. That’s when she’d told him the truth. “I’m sorry, Troy, but I think we have to cool this down.”
Iris wanted to tell Troy about her and Seth before he heard it from anyone else. She had one of the student office workers take a note to him during second period.
Can we have lunch together in my office either today or tomorrow?
There was no reply. Then, just before the lunch hour he popped his head in the door. He wore that handsome, playful grin, hands plunged in his pockets. There stood the reason every high school junior and senior girl wanted his class. They sat through every lesson gazing stupidly at his pretty face, dreaming that he was just waiting for them to hit eighteen so he could marry them. She didn’t ask herself, Oh, why can’t I be in love with him? She knew why.
“Don’t worry about it, Iris. I know. You don’t have to break it to me gently.”
“What do you know?”
“That you’re hooked up with Seth. That it’s where you want to be and you’re very happy. Good for you.”
“Grace? Did she tell you?”
“I think I first heard it at Lucky’s when I stopped there to get gas. Then at the diner. Then out at Cooper’s. Then I asked Grace and she confirmed it. I hope you’re serious because you’ve been outed.”
“Will you come in, please?” she asked him.
He looked at his watch. “I’m going out to lunch. You don’t have to explain anything. You were clear before. And I’m not surprised.”
“But what if I want to explain?”
“Could we skip it? You needing to explain makes me feel like an idiot and I don’t need that.”
“Troy, you should understand about us, about Seth. We have a very long and complicated history, a good history with some enormous hurdles. But—”
“Look, I get it. You were always honest. Well, except about Seth, but that’s okay. I think I understand that, too.”
“Troy, I didn’t think I’d ever work things out with Seth. I didn’t talk to anyone about my feelings for him. I never thought we’d be able to sort it all out. It’s really important to me that you and I are still friends. Good friends.”
“Don’t worry about that for a second, Iris. We’re friends. We laugh at the same things, work well together, have the same work priorities, see each other all the time—we’ll be perfectly friendly. I’ll see you later.”
And he was gone. Iris recognized his words. She’d used them on Seth. Fine, we’re friends, don’t push it.
It was really unfair, she thought. She hadn’t led him on. In fact, when she’d realized she was less than sincere, less involved than he was, she’d tried to end the romance without sacrificing the friendship. So much for that idea. Adult relationships were such a minefield. She hated that a good man like Troy would feel hurt. Besides, she needed him in her life.
She talked to Seth about her feelings that night and realized she had never really had this before, this steady man who was interested in everything that went on in her life, even if it had to do with another man! He was so supportive and understanding. Not toward Troy, however. “He’ll be fine, Iris. Everyone gets rejected and moves on. Don’t torture him.”
“But I didn’t want to reject him,” she said.
“That’s the torture I’m talking about. Let him be.”
“But I need him in my professional life!”
“Then make sure your contact is professional,” he said.
“Simple as that sounds, it isn’t that simple,” she informed him.
“Don’t I know it. I’ve had professional reasons to reach out to Sassy and Robbie. Not simple. Not at all.”
In the end, it became very easy. And very frightening. It was later that same week, when Iris was again saying good-morning to the students arriving at school. She stood outside her office door for at least twenty minutes, through first bell. The stream of kids thinned as the hour for first period got closer and closer. Her eye caught a couple of stragglers behind the crowd, late for class, hurrying along and oblivious to her.
Rachel Delaney and Brett Davis were rushing down the corridor from the parking lot entrance. He was gripping her upper arm, dragging her along, leaning down and speaking heatedly, angrily, into her ear. He had a snarl on his face. He stopped in the hall right after passing Iris. He grabbed Rachel’s other arm and gave her a shake, growling into her face with an angry shine in his eyes. He thrust her away and stalked off.
Rachel said nothing. Did nothing. She watched him go. She slumped along to her class, going in a different direction than Brett. Her head was down.
It’s him! Iris thought.
Of course it was him! The most popular boy in school. Maybe the best-looking boy, a powerful football player. Rachel was about five-two to his six feet, one hundred and ten pounds to his one-ninety.
She could feel the blood drain from her face and her heart hammered in her chest. Why had she not thought of the boyfriend? It’s so often the boyfriend, but she hadn’t even suspected. Every time she saw them together, he seemed to be fawning over her protectively, romantically.
Besides, this was a school district very sensitive to bullying issues, especially since they’d had a bully a couple of years ago. That bully was so well-known and vicious he’d not only picked on every boy younger and smaller, but at the end of the day it had become obvious the kid had abused his parents and had even been accused of killing a man he’d been in conflict with. He’d been charged with manslaughter rather than murder, but it all stemmed from the same issues of dominance and abuse.
Iris worked closely with Coach Lawson and he had a sharp eye turned toward his football players and their behavior, on and off the field. Brett Davis had a sterling reputation as a leader, a good kid.
But, of course, boys could be charming and lovable boyfriends, until angry about some perceived infraction on the girl’s part and then turn livid and brutal. And the frightened girl didn’t want to do or say anything to piss him off. This behavior was common among young men who grew up watching their fathers abuse their mothers while managing to maintain solid relationships with other men.
There had been so many other logical suspects around her—a part-time father, a big and combative younger brother, a single mother no doubt stressed by everything, an aunt and an uncle who were giving shelter to an entire family.
An abusive boyfriend. How had she ignored that possibility—it was so often the case. High school boys were generally
immature, possessive, egotistical, had short fuses and felt so bulletproof.
She didn’t know what to do even though she knew what she had to do. She was obligated to report her suspicions. But she’d never been down this road before. She locked her office door and walked quickly to the other side of the building, rapping impatiently on Troy’s first-period classroom door. When he opened the door he was obviously stricken by the look on her face because he quickly asked, “What, Iris?” in a panicked whisper.
“It’s him,” she whispered back. “It’s her boyfriend! Brett Davis! The big man on campus.”
“You’re sure?” Troy asked.
“I saw him grab her and shake her. He was furious about something and she was completely passive. How could I miss that? How could we all miss it?”
Troy pulled the door to his class closed behind him. “Damn it,” he said. “This is going to be ugly. I’ll back you up. Do what you have to do.”
She shook her head. “Whatever I do, I better be right. This can be a deadly game. That poor girl, she must be so confused. She must be terrified of him.”
“Aw, Jesus,” he said. “You should talk to Seth, too. Make sure he knows what’s going on. The girl has already had a concussion.”
“Oh, Troy,” she said, almost in tears. “How did no one know?”
He frowned. “I bet a lot of people know. I bet the kids know. Cammie knows. You know how these kids can close ranks. He has a lot of popular power.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Go do it, report it. You can explain I brought the suspicion to you and you looked into it. You’re not completely alone in this.”
“Thanks, but I can’t be worried about that. I’m a big girl. It’s Rachel who’s in trouble.”
* * *
Before making the call she had to make, she went to Phil Sanderson’s office. In the chain of command, he was next. She could have gone straight to the principal, it would have been appropriate, but Phil, as vice principal, handled most of the student behavior problems.