The Homecoming
Page 19
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Oscar laughed. “Gotta admit, I like a woman won’t take no stuff off a man. You see Flora? She’s the sweetest thing ever come at me, but she has a limit. She understands when I get to feeling sorry for myself and she’s kind, but I get a little ungrateful or maybe too ornery and she puts me right in my place. She’s got no problem livin’ with a cripple but she won’t take no attitude. That’s a real woman.”
“Flora is one helluva woman,” Seth said.
“She’s that,” Oscar said. “More woman than I deserve. You got some regrets, son?”
“Oh, boy,” he said, with a hollow laugh. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve got nothing but regrets. Doesn’t just about everyone?”
“I expect so. You think I don’t wish I hadn’t worked that second shift? But it was overtime and we always had more month left at the end of the paycheck. I’d done it a hundred times. I never really thought about what it could cost. How about you?”
He sighed. “Well, of course I regret speeding, even though I’ve made peace with the changes it brought my life. But it kills me to think I lost Iris before I ever knew how much I needed her. I took her for granted, and I’m not just talking about that night. I think I took her for granted her whole life. No wonder she hates me.”
“She don’t hate you, son. Likely she grieves you. When she told you the truth about what you done, did she get upset? Cry a little?”
“Oscar, she decked me. Then she cried a little, yelled a little, stormed away and told me to never bother her again.”
Oscar laughed. “You just another idiot man. A woman doesn’t hurt over someone she doesn’t care about! You were the love of her life and you weren’t smart enough to run with that. You wish you’d been otherwise, just like I wish’t I wasn’t just a workin’ man looking at some overtime. But here’s where we are. Now, we can either work with those regrets and let ’em prove something or we can live in the past and be sorry souls.”
“And how do you suppose we work with our regrets?”
“Well, I don’t know what you’re gonna do, but I ain’t that man anymore, son. I’m gentler now. I used to be ornery and tired all the time. Used to have myself a temper. I can’t run or play or work second shifts so I talk to my wife and my kids. We have the best talks. My grandkids like me, strange as you think that is. Bradley is only ten and he already plays some mean chess. I taught him. And you sure as hell ain’t no tight end anymore. ’Bout time you let that girl know who you are now. I’m not sayin’ that’ll be easy. She might knock you flat again. But you’re smarter and better now. She should know before she gives you up altogether. Show her you’re not that stupid seventeen-year-old boy anymore. That’ll be hard for you since you like feelin’ sorry for yourself.”
“How do you suggest I do that? Show her I’ve changed?”
He gave a slight one-sided shrug. “I don’t know. Lucky you ain’t dead yet. You still have time.”
Seth loved that man. There he sat, a brace holding up his head, gesturing with one hand, immobile and in relatively poor health, yet he’d turned his infirmity into his opportunity. He’d grown closer to his wife and his kids, developed close relationships with his grandkids. If he could do that with a body that didn’t function anymore, how could Seth admit defeat?
“When did you get so smart? So wise?” Seth asked him.
“What the hell else you think I got to do with my time?” Oscar said. Then he smiled.
* * *
Iris didn’t see Seth all week and it was a good thing for her psyche. She’d spent years nurturing the anger she’d felt toward him and the one thing she hadn’t expected was that he would be devastated by the truth. There was no denying it. He was shattered to think what he’d done to her. For some reason she had expected him to blow it off, the way he’d blown off the prom incident when they were seventeen.
The other thing she’d expected was that he’d get in touch with her and try a new approach to his apology, but that didn’t happen, either. It took great strength of will to keep from looking for him. She knew he stayed at the office every day until five or later and there were lots of places she could run into him. Though she didn’t want to, she kept her eyes open for his car at his mother’s house, but it wasn’t there. The weekend was especially hard because she wasn’t busy at school. The only thing that kept her from reaching out was that she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Never mind, it’s okay? I’m over it, we were young and dumb? Let’s pretend we’ve never met before and see if we’re friends now?
She had no idea what followed confrontation. Hang on to the rage? Let it go and never speak of it again? Apologize for the honesty?
When she got home from school on Monday afternoon there was a basket of the biggest, most beautiful apples she’d ever seen on the porch in front of her door. There was a bow on top but no note. The next day there was a wreath for her front door made out of fall leaves, pine cones, dried flowers and wheat stalks. On Wednesday there was a box holding a beautiful white knit scarf. Thursday brought a tin of cookies in the shape of fall leaves, iced in yellow, orange, red and brown. On Friday came a horn of plenty filled with gourds, oranges, grapes and nuts. This time there was a note. She opened the small envelope and read the neatly printed card. “Dinner tonight at Cliffhanger’s at seven. My treat.”
She had begun to suspect but now she was sure. Seth was trying to make amends. He might even be trying to court her. But, no, she thought. He just feels guilty and wants his shame to go away. At any cost.
She was terrified of her feelings.
Iris had plenty of friends but few confidants. The only person who came to mind was Grace, so she drove to the flower shop.
When she walked in, Grace poked her head out of the back room. She grinned, happy to see Iris. In her hands she held a clipper and green molding tape. She wore her green utility apron and her fingers were dirty. There was no way to work with flowers and plants without getting dirty and wearing gloves just wasn’t tactile enough. Flowers were hard, messy work. “Well, you’re the last person I expected. How are you?”
Iris shook her head. “I have a problem. I really need a friend at the moment.”
“You’ve always got a friend here, you know that. Come on back.”
“Flora is one helluva woman,” Seth said.
“She’s that,” Oscar said. “More woman than I deserve. You got some regrets, son?”
“Oh, boy,” he said, with a hollow laugh. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve got nothing but regrets. Doesn’t just about everyone?”
“I expect so. You think I don’t wish I hadn’t worked that second shift? But it was overtime and we always had more month left at the end of the paycheck. I’d done it a hundred times. I never really thought about what it could cost. How about you?”
He sighed. “Well, of course I regret speeding, even though I’ve made peace with the changes it brought my life. But it kills me to think I lost Iris before I ever knew how much I needed her. I took her for granted, and I’m not just talking about that night. I think I took her for granted her whole life. No wonder she hates me.”
“She don’t hate you, son. Likely she grieves you. When she told you the truth about what you done, did she get upset? Cry a little?”
“Oscar, she decked me. Then she cried a little, yelled a little, stormed away and told me to never bother her again.”
Oscar laughed. “You just another idiot man. A woman doesn’t hurt over someone she doesn’t care about! You were the love of her life and you weren’t smart enough to run with that. You wish you’d been otherwise, just like I wish’t I wasn’t just a workin’ man looking at some overtime. But here’s where we are. Now, we can either work with those regrets and let ’em prove something or we can live in the past and be sorry souls.”
“And how do you suppose we work with our regrets?”
“Well, I don’t know what you’re gonna do, but I ain’t that man anymore, son. I’m gentler now. I used to be ornery and tired all the time. Used to have myself a temper. I can’t run or play or work second shifts so I talk to my wife and my kids. We have the best talks. My grandkids like me, strange as you think that is. Bradley is only ten and he already plays some mean chess. I taught him. And you sure as hell ain’t no tight end anymore. ’Bout time you let that girl know who you are now. I’m not sayin’ that’ll be easy. She might knock you flat again. But you’re smarter and better now. She should know before she gives you up altogether. Show her you’re not that stupid seventeen-year-old boy anymore. That’ll be hard for you since you like feelin’ sorry for yourself.”
“How do you suggest I do that? Show her I’ve changed?”
He gave a slight one-sided shrug. “I don’t know. Lucky you ain’t dead yet. You still have time.”
Seth loved that man. There he sat, a brace holding up his head, gesturing with one hand, immobile and in relatively poor health, yet he’d turned his infirmity into his opportunity. He’d grown closer to his wife and his kids, developed close relationships with his grandkids. If he could do that with a body that didn’t function anymore, how could Seth admit defeat?
“When did you get so smart? So wise?” Seth asked him.
“What the hell else you think I got to do with my time?” Oscar said. Then he smiled.
* * *
Iris didn’t see Seth all week and it was a good thing for her psyche. She’d spent years nurturing the anger she’d felt toward him and the one thing she hadn’t expected was that he would be devastated by the truth. There was no denying it. He was shattered to think what he’d done to her. For some reason she had expected him to blow it off, the way he’d blown off the prom incident when they were seventeen.
The other thing she’d expected was that he’d get in touch with her and try a new approach to his apology, but that didn’t happen, either. It took great strength of will to keep from looking for him. She knew he stayed at the office every day until five or later and there were lots of places she could run into him. Though she didn’t want to, she kept her eyes open for his car at his mother’s house, but it wasn’t there. The weekend was especially hard because she wasn’t busy at school. The only thing that kept her from reaching out was that she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Never mind, it’s okay? I’m over it, we were young and dumb? Let’s pretend we’ve never met before and see if we’re friends now?
She had no idea what followed confrontation. Hang on to the rage? Let it go and never speak of it again? Apologize for the honesty?
When she got home from school on Monday afternoon there was a basket of the biggest, most beautiful apples she’d ever seen on the porch in front of her door. There was a bow on top but no note. The next day there was a wreath for her front door made out of fall leaves, pine cones, dried flowers and wheat stalks. On Wednesday there was a box holding a beautiful white knit scarf. Thursday brought a tin of cookies in the shape of fall leaves, iced in yellow, orange, red and brown. On Friday came a horn of plenty filled with gourds, oranges, grapes and nuts. This time there was a note. She opened the small envelope and read the neatly printed card. “Dinner tonight at Cliffhanger’s at seven. My treat.”
She had begun to suspect but now she was sure. Seth was trying to make amends. He might even be trying to court her. But, no, she thought. He just feels guilty and wants his shame to go away. At any cost.
She was terrified of her feelings.
Iris had plenty of friends but few confidants. The only person who came to mind was Grace, so she drove to the flower shop.
When she walked in, Grace poked her head out of the back room. She grinned, happy to see Iris. In her hands she held a clipper and green molding tape. She wore her green utility apron and her fingers were dirty. There was no way to work with flowers and plants without getting dirty and wearing gloves just wasn’t tactile enough. Flowers were hard, messy work. “Well, you’re the last person I expected. How are you?”
Iris shook her head. “I have a problem. I really need a friend at the moment.”
“You’ve always got a friend here, you know that. Come on back.”