The Homecoming
Page 55

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.