The Homecoming
Page 52

“I’ll do better, Iris,” he said. “I’m not saying I’ll be perfect, I know better. But there’s one thing—you’re one woman I never forgot. Never got over. That’s got to mean something.” He ran a big hand down her body and she shivered. “It means a lot right now.”
The next thing she knew, she was sighing and arching again. Then she was exploding, a shower of sparkling stars raining down on her while he pulsed inside her. Then there was the panting, the sighing, the gratitude neither of them spoke of. And that precious closeness. They were quiet in the dark for so long.
“Are you leaving now?” she finally asked.
“If you want me to, I’ll go. But you have to promise me we’ll see each other tomorrow and we’ll be all right.”
“But don’t you have to go? Your car is in my drive and it’s—” She looked at the clock. “It’s after midnight. People will know you spent the night.”
“I want people to know I spent the night. I’m not hiding anything, I’m an adult and this was consensual. And beautiful, it was beautiful. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can leave. We can be more discreet. You’re a high school counselor.”
“I’m an adult, too,” she said. “I know you won’t be upset to learn you are not the first man in my life. Nor the first to stay overnight.”
“I have no trouble believing that.”
“But your mother lives next door,” she reminded him, as if he needed reminding.
“Even more reason. My mother is probably typical—she has a hard time remembering her sons are not twelve. Even if you lived a mile away, don’t you think she’d find out? And soon? She’s very nosy. A good mother, but very nosy.”
Iris giggled. “I have a confession. I’ve only slept all night with a man a couple of times. College and once later. And I didn’t sleep well.”
“I suppose it takes getting used to.”
“You suppose?”
“I’ve had a few girlfriends, but I never lived with any of them. They were perfectly nice, terrific girls, but it just wasn’t that serious. We didn’t do sleepovers. I didn’t want to stay over.”
“God, we’re pathetic,” she said.
“How’s that?”
“Thirty-four, never married, never had sleepovers, never got serious...”
He snuggled closer to her. “Maybe this sleepover will be okay,” he said. “It’s completely up to you.”
“I’m in,” she said. “Stay.”
* * *
It was no grand test for Seth. He slept like a baby. Somewhere in the dark of night he felt Iris stir and get up. When she came back to bed, she brought him a glass of water. Then she reached for him, kissing his shoulder, his ear, his neck. He roused to her na**d softness against him and he rolled with her, devouring her all over again, taking her, loving her until she cried out. Then he cradled her, covering her with soft kisses all over her body, holding her until her breathing came deep and even. He nuzzled against the delicious smell of her skin and slept. He was pressed up against her, spooning her or holding her through the night.
He’d never felt more at home, more at peace.
He’d thought he was in love a couple of times before, or maybe it was more accurate to say he wanted to be in love and hoped to be. But this was so different and no one had ever explained it to him. He felt his love for Iris deep in his bones. He felt it in his soul. His life would be half a life without her. He wanted everything with her. It was like he’d waited for a woman like her. He wondered if it would terrify her to learn how much he wanted. He was ready for everything with her—commitment, family, a lifetime. It was going to be hard to go slowly.
He woke at the same time as Iris. Someone was at the door. He looked at the clock and it was seven, a rare hour for him to be asleep. But then the woman beside him had been greedy and tired him out. She mumbled and started to get out of bed. “No, let me,” he said. “Stay right where you are.”
He pulled on the family tartan and headed barefoot to the front door. His limp was much more pronounced when he didn’t wear shoes with a little lift in the heel. He looked out the window in the front door and saw only the top of someone’s head, but her hair was curly and silver.
He opened the door and she jumped. “Seth!” she said.
“Who did you expect?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure, but I saw your car and you hadn’t come home and—”
“Because I’m here,” he said.
“But...where’s Iris?” she asked.
“Where do you think she is, Mom?”
“Oh! Oh, dear.”
“I think from now on, you should call when you feel like popping over. What do you say?”
“I...ah...I...”
“That’s right, Mom. You have the number so if you need something, just call. Or you can always call my cell—I’ll let you know that everything is all right. Okay?”
“Yes! Of course! But I...” She shook her head. “Oh, the hell with it. You might warn a person! I went out to get the paper and saw your car, but I couldn’t find you!”
“I’d like you to consider it a pleasant surprise, say no more about it and go home. I’ll call you later.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, call later.”
And she turned to waddle down the walk, crossing the yards to her front door. He chuckled and went back to bed. He slipped under the covers and pulled Iris close. “Check that one off. Gwen has found us out.”
“Oh, Seth!”
“What? It was bound to happen. At least it’s over with. Now maybe we can sleep in. Although, you might be bad for my career—I never stay in bed this late in the morning.”
“Oh, God, that was your mother at the door! That’s like a dating nightmare! The worst kind! She thinks I debauched her little boy.”
“Would it help if I told her I debauched twice and you only once?”
“Ack,” she barked, slapping him on the arm. “That was your mother.”
“Yes, it was. I sent her away and told her to call ahead next time. She’s old enough to know better.”
“I’ll have to say something to her,” Iris said. “What in the world am I supposed to say?”