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.
“You still paying rent on that place in Bandon?” Norm asked.
Seth grinned at his father. “You tired of my jokes already?”
Norm grunted in response.
When Seth asked his mother to put together a little extra dinner he could take to Iris while she was sick, Gwen clutched her chest. “Of course,” she said.
“Don’t get all excited. We’re just being neighborly,” he said.
“An excellent starting point!”
Gwen would have been delighted to have her son at the dinner table, but she was even more pleased to think of Seth sharing an intimate dinner with his childhood friend, a girl she already thought of as a daughter. Even if Iris was too sick to get cozy, they were spending time together again. Every day Seth took something to Iris and stayed to share it with her—a little pot roast, carrots, potatoes and Gwen’s favorite cucumber salad, which was basically cucumbers and onions in a vinegar dressing. Or Gwen’s spaghetti and meatballs, something Norm liked to have once a week. Or her pork chops baked in cream of celery soup with a side of mashed potatoes and peas. He also took his old Yahtzee game and Scrabble set. They played a couple of games after dinner until she started looking tired.
Seth realized he really owed his mother for this. But he was going to hold off on thanking her.
Ten
After a couple of days of steamy showers and self-medicating, Iris felt worlds better. Despite the fact that she had tons of work on her desk at school, she also had a very annoying cough that would frighten the students and her colleagues, so she stayed home all week. Day after day, she opened the door to Seth and his mother’s food. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. But, secretly, she loved it. It wasn’t just the meal, which was always good in a very comforting, homey way. It was also Seth, who was taking his dinner break with her.
Seth wasn’t the only one dropping by with goodwill offerings. There were students, as well. Krista, her senior student helper, came bearing cookies her mother had baked. “I’m so glad to see you,” Iris said. “I’ve been wondering how the office is holding up and how Misty is getting on there.”
“Fine, as far as I know,” Krista said. “Are you worried about anything?”
“You mean besides the fifteen tons of paperwork on my desk?” Iris asked with a laugh that had her coughing. When she was under control again she told Krista what was happening. “I’ve been worried that Misty is feeling a little out of place, being new to us and all. In general, not just in the counselor’s office. If you get a chance to ask her how she’s doing or if she needs help, will you? I haven’t even been in the office to train her.”
“Of course, Ms. McKinley. I have my lunch hour the same time as Misty—I’ll check on her.”
“Oh, that would be so helpful. And thanks for the cookies! I’d hug you but—”
Krista laughed and stepped back. “That’s okay, I can feel the love from here!”
“Cute,” Iris said.
A couple of other students came by—one brought crocheted slippers. A secretary from the school office brought brownies. Troy showed up and she asked him if he would mind bringing her the SAT prep course portfolio after school the next day. “I don’t dare show my face around there, looking and sounding like I do,” she said. “I bark like a seal!”
“You look great,” he said. “What else can I bring you? Do you have food? Juice? Soup? Everything you need?”
“I’m all hooked up,” she said with a laugh. “My neighbor has been making me dinner every night.”
“That’s a lot of trouble,” he said. “Can I bring you something from Cliff’s or Carrie’s?”
She shook her head. “Gwen is so happy to be doing it. She was my mom’s best friend and took me under her wing long ago.” And right as she said that, Seth came walking across the yard, wearing oven mitts, carrying a casserole. His department SUV was parked at his mother’s house and he wore his uniform.
“Hey, Troy,” he said cheerily.
“Seth,” Troy said. “Delivering dinner?”
“Chicken something,” he said. “Join us?”
“You’re eating, too?” Troy asked.
“Well, I guess I could go home and eat the same thing with my mother and Norm, but frankly, Iris is better company.” He smiled. “Even in her condition.”
“Very nice, Seth,” she said. And then, of course, she coughed.
“I’m doomed,” Seth said to Troy. “Pritkus is down with half his family, my other deputy has some variation on this bug, Iris already contaminated me, half the town is sneezing and everyone who goes to the clinic has time to stop by my office and list their symptoms for me. I’m so grateful.”
“I’ve been tempted to wear a mask to school,” Troy said.
“Want to join us for this chicken something?” Iris asked.
“I don’t know....”
“Make up your mind, man,” Seth said. “I only have a half hour for dinner.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Troy said to Iris. “You have the plague and I think Seth could be a carrier. I’m going to take my chances on Pizza Hut. I’ll bring you your SAT prep folder after school tomorrow. If you need anything else, text me.”
Like old roommates, Iris and Seth put out plates, flatware and napkins. The casserole sat in the middle of the kitchen table. She grabbed a little leftover salad in the fridge, something she’d thrown together for lunch, and Seth pulled two rolls wrapped in plastic wrap out of his jacket pocket, making her laugh. She remarked that the “chicken something” was wonderful and he said she sounded much better. Their conversation wandered, as it had the past few nights. She told him about some of the student issues—no names—that she’d
been challenged with. He asked her what she’d been doing on holidays since her mom passed away.
“Various friends,” she said. “Last year Grace and I teamed up with a turkey breast and gravy from the jar, but the year before I drove to Eureka and spent three days with my college roommate and her family. What about you?”
“I’ve been a junior deputy, then a junior sergeant for as long as I can remember so I end up working most holidays. On the few I can sneak away, Boomer has it at his house in North Bend. He’s got two kids.”
“They still call him Boomer, do they?” she asked.
“Everyone calls him Boomer, even his wife and kids. I think he likes it.”
“And Nick?”
“New woman every time I see him. I don’t know if he’ll ever find one that sticks with him.”
“Really? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, but he’s a very sharp, good-looking guy and what a smile!”
Seth smiled. “Better than this?” he asked.
“Miles better,” she said. “Kind of crazy that all you boys have handsome smiles when old Norm last smiled a few years ago....”
“Was it that recently? Too bad no one got a picture. So, since I’m working in Thunder Point this year, Boomer’s family has agreed to come to town for Thanksgiving. I’ll have to work, but we divide up the day so everyone on duty gets turkey. I’ll at least get a long lunch break to have dinner with the family. Will you come?” he asked. “My mother would be thrilled. So would Nick and Boomer.”
“Ah, I don’t know, Seth. That’s very sweet, but I wouldn’t want to give the wrong idea to anyone. And there’s Grace. And Troy. Troy has family in San Diego but he hasn’t said anything about going home.”
“Bring them,” he said. “My mom would be so happy to pack ’em in for her holiday meal. She won’t admit it, but she hates it when her daughter-in-law is in charge—she wants to control the meal. And I don’t care what ideas they get—we used to have Thanksgiving together every year.”
“When it was me and Rose. It hasn’t been me and Rose in a long time.”
“I haven’t been in Thunder Point for a long time,” he said. He touched her hand.
“You’ve been here for an hour and a half,” she pointed out to him.
“Have I? Time flies...”
“You told Troy you had thirty minutes.”
“I lied,” he admitted with a shrug. “I’m the boss. I’m on the clock all the time. My phone is on. If the phone chimed, I’d have to leave in the middle of the chicken whatever-it-was.”
“I believe it was chicken tetrazzini.”
“You have amazing taste buds.” He smiled at her. “How about a game of Scrabble?”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Sort of,” he said. “I’ve been in this uniform since six this morning. Believe me, they get their money’s worth. Hey, when everyone is over the flu, I’ll teach you to play chess. If you want to...”
“You play chess?”
“I learned when I was rehabbing my leg. I just didn’t have much stamina, especially after a really demanding session. But my brain needed to be kept busy, so I learned.”
She smiled sweetly. “You’ve changed so much.”
“I hope so. But I hope I’m the same guy in the good ways.”
* * *
On Halloween Seth called Iris. “Do you have something you can warm up for dinner? Because I’m afraid I’m not going to get over tonight until late and my mom didn’t cook. I forgot—Halloween is different.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I’m snacking tonight. There are little goblins due any second.”
“And I have to keep an eye on the goblins around town.”
“You do that.”
Seth hadn’t been back in Thunder Point on Halloween since his senior year in high school. He didn’t remember it ever being a major holiday among the locals and yet, what he witnessed was an extraordinary display. On this clear and cold night, the town was alive with celebration. Everyone had their porch ornaments displayed, from corn stalks to pumpkins; there were witches and ghosts flying in the trees, orange and black candles lit the windows. Three separate neighborhoods had haunted houses or graveyards with spooks that jumped out at expectant kids. Seth’s mother was dressed as a scarecrow and was standing stone-still at the end of her sidewalk until a little one passed and then she suddenly came to life, startling them, sending them shrieking and giggling up and down the sidewalk and street.
Seth drove around town slowly, occasionally shining the SUV’s spotlight on trick-or-treaters. Now and then he’d flip on the siren for a couple of startling whoop-whoops. As soon as darkness had fallen, when it was still early, parents had the little ones out. He could see mothers and fathers standing along the curbs socializing while princesses, sci-fi creatures, spacemen, animals, robots and hobos ran up to front doors. The under-seven crowd and especially the under-four crowd wore bulky jackets with their costumes. Little girls had all colors of makeup on their faces and wild, jeweled and colored hair; boys had helmets and masks.
The business district was all done up—there were garlands, lights, harvest decorations and jack-o’-lanterns everywhere. Private business owners like Stu from the diner and Carrie from the deli, folks who were licensed food handlers, handed out things like candied apples and cookies. Rawley Goode was helping Carrie and while he wore no costume save his denim jacket and ball cap, he was still a little spooky. Down the street there was a wild and crazy witch, cackling and prancing all over the sidewalk—she wore black shoes with curled-up toes, red-and-white striped stockings, a black dress with little bells sewn onto the hem, a scraggly gray wig and a very tall black hat. She had a pointy chin, a wart and three blacked-out teeth. It took a moment but Seth realized it was Grace.
He pulled over and got a picture of her with his cell phone. Then he decided to snap a few more—Stu was a pirate, Carrie was a gypsy—and there were kids everywhere who were happy to pose for the town deputy. Even though it was a small town, none of the kids would get to every house and his mom and Iris would enjoy seeing pictures of the ones they missed.
A three-foot-tall Spiderman tugged on his pant leg and asked him if that was a police costume. The little mermaid, Ariel, asked him for a ride in the police car. Waylan, dressed like a bloody butcher and standing in front of his bar with a bowl of candy, invited him in for one on the house. Seth declined with a laugh and a whoop of his siren.
He was strangely touched by the celebration, by the many kids, by their parents socializing while the kids ran wild. He knew the drill—one parent took the kids while the other stayed home with the candy bowl. This wasn’t his first small town. His last assignment was just northeast—a town of only six hundred—and he’d stayed out on Halloween night just like this, patrolling, making sure it was a peaceful celebration of spooks and witches. But back here in his hometown, it kind of tugged at his heart. He remembered years of his mother dressing up, his neighbors scaring the little kids, all the candy. When he was eleven or twelve he and his buddies did a few reckless things—tipped a couple of trash cans, soaped a few windows, smashed a pumpkin or two. Bad boys, he thought with a chuckle. Nothing a broom and dustpan or a little Windex wouldn’t fix, but if they’d been caught there would have been holy hell to pay.
He wouldn’t mind the challenge of it all, he realized. Kids. A wife and permanent home. In fact, he thought he might be good at it.
He drove up the hill and parked in a quiet place where he had a good view of the neighborhood. As the night grew later and darker, the little kids with parental supervision were giving it up and the slightly older kids were coming out. It was around eight-thirty and he noticed the costume change as the kids were bigger—now there were hatchets through heads, bloody knives protruding from chests, ghouls and headless monsters. He remembered that
, too—the evolution of costumes. He remembered when his brothers had graduated to bloody beasts and killers while he was still dressed as a pirate. He couldn’t wait until he could paint his face white, with blood dripping from his mouth like the undead instead of some lame pirate or cowboy.
A couple of kids walked down the street—a mummy and a karate black belt wearing his white gi. He figured them for about eleven. Maybe small twelve-year-olds. He could imagine how big a fight they had to put up to get permission to go out without Mom and Dad. It was always a bit of a worry, but Mac had confirmed if there was any real Halloween trouble, it was more likely to come from the bar or maybe a house party. The kids were pretty safe here. They sent out all the standard safety pleas to the community—stay in groups, don’t eat unwrapped candy, don’t get in any car except your parents’ and don’t go inside any houses.
A couple of ninjas approached the mummy and karate kid from behind. Could be nothing, of course. But Seth exited his car, locking it, and stood in the shadows. The trick-or-treaters were about fifteen feet away from him when one of the black-clad ninjas sprinted forward, grabbed the bags of candy and kept going.
Seth crossed the street at a jog just in time to grab the fleeing ninja by the collar. He gave him a shake and he dropped the bags of candy. Seth looked around in time to see the other ninja take off, cut through the yards and disappear behind the houses while other trick-or-treaters stood rooted to the spot.
Seth gave his captive a shake. “I saw that,” he said.
“Lemme go! I didn’t do nothin’!”
“Nice try,” Seth said, dragging him away from the spilled bags of candy. “Hey, you boys,” he yelled to the victims. “You want your candy?”
They stepped forward hesitantly. Seth had to hang on to the squirming ninja for a long moment. He pulled him back so the smaller kids would have plenty of space to retrieve their candy. He could see they were very nervous. They just scooped spilled candy into the bags without investigating it closely.