The Homecoming Page 36


She pulled him into her arms. “Paco is being very strong, turning a blind eye to me living with you,” she said of her father. “But when it comes to the wedding, he will have his way. Let’s not ask too much of him.”

“Oh, he’s being very brave, all right,” Scott said. “He mentions our living arrangement every time we talk. I half expect to hear from the Pope. Or at least an archbishop. Doesn’t your mother have anything to say about this wedding? Don’t you?”

“I want to be married on the family farm when it’s at its best,” she said. “When I was eighteen I couldn’t wait to get off the farm. Now I want to get married there, wear a dress the color of pear blossoms, eat until I can’t move and have a long weekend of fun. Anyone who can borrow, rent or buy an RV or fifth wheel is welcome, how about that? And really, Scott, you haven’t lived until you’ve been to a Basque wedding.”

“I just want to get into bed with a Basque woman, how about that? The sooner, the better.” He looked around. “I guess you would have told me if we had patients?”

“We have kids,” she said. “Devon picked them up and brought them here. They’re in the break room with their little movies.”

“Ew, I hate having them here with all the viruses we’ve had running through the place....”

“Scott, most of those viruses came from the schools. They’re probably safer here—we wipe everything down with disinfectant and wash our hands fifty times a day. But if you’re willing to close up, I’ll take them home and get the soup started.” Her eyes twinkled. “I have chocolate cake for dessert.”

“The kids can have that. I’m having you for my dessert.”

* * *

Seth stayed busy in town after fetching some clean clothes. He had dinner at the diner. With his patrol unit parked outside, everyone knew exactly where to find him if he was needed. He left the usual note on the office door when he locked up: For Assistance Dial 911. He didn’t go to his mother’s house until nine o’clock. His father had already turned in but Seth consoled himself that his dad hadn’t taken an early bedtime to avoid him. Norm typically went to bed early and rose early.

Seth had noticed one dim light inside Iris’s house, but that didn’t mean she was awake. Likely she was dozing on the couch. He liked the “early to bed and early to rise” philosophy, too. But on this night he didn’t find sleep until almost midnight. He had too many thoughts spinning around in his head to fall asleep. He was remembering when Iris had learned the facts of life, when she’d learned about her father.

Iris got the biological details about where babies came from when she was around eleven or even younger, but for whatever reason she didn’t put together what that had to do with her parents. When she’d been very young and asked where her daddy was, Rose had a simple explanation. “He’s not with us anymore, angel.” Iris had taken that to mean he was dead. But puberty brought more detailed questions—what was his name, what was he like, where had he lived, who were his people?

Even though they were best friends, Seth hadn’t had any idea that Iris was burdened with such curiosities. As for the birds and the bees, Seth had been given the facts much earlier because his two older brothers, Nick and Boomer, never spared a single detail—from puberty on they were obsessed with girls and sex, not necessarily in that order.

When Iris was fourteen and constantly asking questions, Rose had to come clean, explain to Iris the truth about her father. It was a dark family secret, she said. Rose had been a young secretary when she’d fallen in desperate love with her married boss. They’d dallied. Iris’s mother never came out and called it an affair, which it was. The boss was older; his children were teenagers. When Rose got pregnant, they worried about what to do for a while because Rose’s married boyfriend was very successful in the community and respected in his church and clubs. And his wife was mighty angry.

Ultimately, Rose was settled with a generous sum of money, enough to go somewhere and start over with her child. Rose struggled for a couple of years, alone with a baby and no family support. She finally chose Thunder Point and turned an old print shop into a flower shop. That alone would explain Rose’s struggles to eke a living out of the place—she had no experience operating a small business and she wasn’t much of a flower arranger, at least in the beginning.

When Iris first learned the truth about her biological father, she’d wept. Of course, the only person she would lean on was Seth. At the time, when Norm was so proud of him, he couldn’t imagine being abandoned by a father.

But Iris, being Iris, was down about it for around three days before coming to a decision. “Screw him. Who needs him? As far as I’m concerned he’s dead, which is what I’ve believed all along anyway.”

It wasn’t until Rose fell ill that she provided Iris with the name of a businessman in Wichita, Kansas. Iris didn’t confide any of this to Seth, of course—they weren’t friends anymore. But when Seth took his mother to Rose’s funeral and spent a couple of days at his childhood home, he’d asked questions about Iris. The facts were whispered to Seth by his mother, along with the promise that she’d never told another living soul. “Did she go find him?” Seth had asked. “No. Iris told Rose it was his loss.”

Seth thought about that part of Iris’s life story. That Iris—she was so strong, so independent and fearless. It took something like being felled by the flu to make her emotional, to make her say, “I’m all alone.”

In Seth’s opinion, she’d have been wasting her time seeking out her biological father. If he hadn’t made an appearance in thirty-four years, he wasn’t likely to now, if he was even alive. There could be siblings, but were they going to bring her decongestant and Bag Balm when the flu hit her? Not bloody likely!

So it was down to him—he would be her family.

If she’d let him.

* * *

Staying at his mother’s house, right next door to Iris, was a simple matter as he had a great excuse to be there. Steve Pritkus was still under the weather, coughing up a lung. Pritkus suggested he was ready to come back to work and couldn’t still be contagious, but Seth asked him to stay home so they wouldn’t all have to endure his watering eyes, dripping nose and horrible cough. Besides, he was quite happy to use the time to keep an eye on Iris. His other deputy, Charlie Adams, was on nights and the third, Rusty Sellers, had just succumbed to something—cold, flu, whatever. It was Seth and Charlie. And a real nice, quiet town.

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