The Homecoming

  Seth was smiling but Troy was not.

  “What?” she said, looking at Troy. “That was all very nice, Troy, but we’re not dating. We’ve talked about this. We work together.” A slight sound came from Seth and she turned to see he was smirking. “And don’t you get all superior, because I’m not dating you, either. Although apples and cookies are very neighborly.”

  Like a man on a mission, Cliff delivered their drinks. When they were all on the table, Iris lifted her glass and toasted them. “To the two very nicest men,” she said. “Friends,” she emphasized.

  Seth looked at Troy sympathetically. “Believe it or not, that’s progress. For me, anyway.”

  Iris half expected Troy to say that in his case, he was backsliding. She sipped her wine but laughed into the glass. These two, both very handsome, sexy men, had no idea that she’d known both of them in the biblical sense. One of them couldn’t quite remember it and the other one was remembering it too well.

  She studied her menu but she barely saw it. No matter, she knew everything by heart. She was thinking about them. On the surface, there wasn’t much that made one more appealing than the other. It was what had happened to her heart that separated them. After making perfectly satisfying love with Troy, she just wasn’t swept away. She didn’t long for more of him. After making completely unsatisfying teenage love with Seth, a clumsy and inexperienced lover, she couldn’t drive him from her mind for seventeen long years. How was something like that decided by a heart? It certainly wasn’t intentional. If she could choose, she would adore Troy and tell Seth to go pound sand. Troy was safer, less complicated, had wanted her since almost the first second he’d laid eyes on her.

  Cliff approached their table again and she closed her menu. But Cliff wasn’t there to take orders.

  “Deputy Sileski,” Cliff said formally. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have a situation in the bar and it isn’t pretty.”

  “What is it?” Seth asked, getting to his feet.

  “Some love triangle thing that started as arguing turned loud and there’s been a little physical stuff. Shoving. Struggling. I can call the cook, Ram, out of the kitchen. But since you’re here...”

  Seth walked to the archway that led to the bar and looked at two big guys on either side of a small blonde woman. One brawny man pulled on her left arm, the other pulled on her right arm. “They drunk?” he asked Cliff.

  “I only served the guy on the left,” he said. “The guy on the right came in just a minute ago, found them, started a scene. I don’t know those people, Seth. They’re not from around here.”

  “Did you call Pritkus? He’s got the town tonight.”

  “He’s on his way but he’s maybe fifteen minutes away.”

  “Okay. Clear the bar area, then get behind the bar.” He turned to Iris. “I’ll be right back.”

  He walked into the bar and approached the two surly men, noting they were both big. He had his backup gun, a pistol, on his ankle, something he never expected to have to use, but it was there. If this had happened anywhere else, he’d wait for local law enforcement. But this was his town. The people here were his friends and he didn’t want Cliff to lose any glassware.

  “Gentlemen,” he said calmly. He showed his badge. “I’m Deputy Sileski and I need you to let go of the lady and step apart. Right now. Ma’am, I’d like you to go over to that table by the window, away from these men, and have a seat.”

  “She’s my wife! She’s not going anywhere except home with me!” one of the men said.

  “She’s separated!” the other yelled. “We’re just having dinner here!”

  “Please, Carl, stop this,” the woman said. “Paul, let go.”

  “Gentlemen, let go of the lady. Now!”

  Carl was the one to make the first mistake. “We don’t need no goddamn Andy of Mayberry in our business!” he shouted. And then he took a swing at Seth.

  Seth grabbed the man’s wrist and, in the blink of an eye, twisted Carl’s arm behind his back and pinned him to the bar. Seth met the eye of the other man, Paul. “Sir, I want you to sit at that end of the bar,” he said, giving his head a tilt. “I don’t want you anywhere near the lady. Ma’am, go where I told you to go. Now.”

  “But we are separated!” she said. “We haven’t done anything wrong! And my husband is drunk!”

  “This will get sorted out when Deputy Pritkus arrives. For now, everyone go to your corners.”

  “We’ve been separated for two days—because I caught the whore doing that bastard,” the husband said from his compromised position against the bar.

  Seth’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “Do not move one muscle,” he said to his captive. He glared at the other man, then the woman. “Did I speak a foreign language?” he asked. They separated.

  Seth reached into his pocket with one hand, still holding Carl’s arm with the other. “Sileski.”

  “I’m on my way. What’ve you got?” Pritkus asked.

  “Twelve-twenty-nine in the bar, two males and one female,” he said, calling it a domestic disturbance. “Light it up, will you? This is pretty inconvenient.” Then he slid his phone back into his pocket. He leaned over the captive Carl. “You and I, we’re going to walk outside and wait for the deputy on duty.”

  “No way,” Carl said. “I’m taking my wife home and you can go fuck yourself!” He whirled around and hit Seth in the mouth with an elbow. In one fluid move, Seth shoved him back on the bar, facedown, pulling both hands behind him by the wrists. Seth gave a sharp jerk upward, causing Carl to yelp.

  The place became very quiet. Seth reached up to his mouth with one finger and came away with blood. “And now you’re going to jail.” Holding both wrists firmly in one tight grasp, he reached down and pulled his gun out of the ankle holster and slid it into his belt at the small of his back. He straightened and looked at the man who was called Paul. “Do you want to go to jail, too?”

  Paul, whose eyes had become very large, shook his head slowly.

  “Good decision. I want you to put your hands on the top of your head and precede me out of the restaurant. Give me six feet so I can see every move you make and if you run, I’m just going to shoot you. I am not getting hurt in this ridiculous nonsense. Do we understand each other?”

  The man stood and put his hands on the top of his head. “Like this?” he asked politely.

  “That’s very good, Paul. After you.”

  Seth straightened his suspect with a jerk on the back of his collar and by pushing up on his arms at the same time. “Behave yourself, Carl, or you’re history.”

  Paul, very creative, used his butt to open the exit door. Seth used Carl. Once outside in the cold October night Seth directed Paul to his truck. “I want you to put both your hands on the hood and spread your legs.”

  “Am I in trouble?” Paul asked.

  “Yes, but you’re not in bad trouble. Yet. Be very careful.” Then he opened the passenger door and reached into the storage box that separated the bucket seats and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He applied one side to Carl’s wrist and pulled him to the back of the truck, where he attached the other side to the trailer hitch on his hefty Tacoma. During this process, he watched Paul as best he could. Paul didn’t seem to be moving.

  Seth left Carl and checked on Paul. “I’m going to pat you down, sir,” he said. Before doing so, he took a moment to dab his bleeding lip with his sleeve. All he’d wanted was to keep an eye on Troy and have dinner with Iris. This was pissing him off. “Anything sharp or dangerous in your pockets or on your person?”

  “No!”

  “Good,” he said. “Spread ’em a little more.” He ran his hands down Paul’s sides, his hips, his legs to his ankles. Then, when he stood he saw the woman standing in the doorway of Cliff’s. “You!” he shouted, pointing at her. “You want more trouble?
Get back to your assigned seat before I put you in cuffs!” She disappeared.

  He turned his attention back to Paul. “Fortunately for you, I don’t have a second pair of cuffs. But you ruined my dinner and I’m pissed. Next time you want to date out of town so the husband doesn’t see you, stay out of my town. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Paul said contritely.

  “Are you going to stay right here, hands on the hood and hope you don’t go to jail or are you going to mess it up?”

  “I’m staying,” he said.

  “Good decision. I hate shooting people. So much paperwork.”

  Seth went to Carl, who was bent slightly as he was attached to the trailer hitch. “So, Carl. Do you have weapons? Sharp objects? Anything that might stick me or hurt me and make me madder?”

  “No,” he growled.

  “Very nice. Put your free hand on the truck, spread your legs.” Then he proceeded to pat him down. When he righted himself he stared Carl hard in the eyes. “You are a pain in the ass, Carl. And you’re going to jail. You really pissed me off.”

  “Go to hell,” Carl said.

  “Probably,” Seth said. “But not over you.”

  * * *

  Iris didn’t wait a whole ten seconds before she dashed to the dining room archway that led to the bar to see what was going on.

  “Iris, stay out of it,” Troy ordered.

  “Shh,” she said, leaning around the wall. Of course, she could feel Troy right behind her, not about to be left out. As Iris peeked into the bar, the bar patrons were retreating to the dining room.

  Seth was amazing. He wasn’t her childhood buddy anymore, he was a real cop. A real big, strong, handsome cop. He had two and a half agitators, the half being the woman, who wasn’t helping things. But Seth clearly knew what he was doing. He was powerful, in fact. And who knew he had that gun? Did he always have that gun, just in case?

  She winced when she saw him take an elbow to the mouth, but then she smiled when he secured his prisoner more forcefully, holding that big guy down with one hand. She watched the anger creep up his neck and into his face in a rose-colored stain that made his eyes glitter. And then she saw how he marched his prisoners out the door.

  “Wow,” she said softly.

  “I bet they’re method actors,” Troy grumbled. “I bet he hired them to show up, create a disturbance and give him a chance to be a hero.” He took her elbow to lead her back to their table.

  Iris laughed at him. “If you’ll recall, he didn’t know I’d be here, so he couldn’t have done that for me. Maybe he wanted Cliff to think he’s a hero?”

  Troy shook his napkin and put it on his lap. “I could’ve done that without bleeding,” he grumbled softly.

  The bar patrons drifted back into the bar. Some chose to leave. Iris wanted to peek outside to see how Seth was managing those two obnoxious guys, but he would see her and Troy might have a little tantrum. Maybe she could help, she thought with a half smile.

  A few minutes later Cliff reported that Seth was still in the parking lot awaiting backup to transport all the naughty people. Cliff also went on and on about how great Seth was, how he didn’t think anyone but Mac could do something like that, clear a bar of roughnecks single-handedly, but that Seth was taking this on without complaint, just like Mac would’ve done. And this sort of thing hardly ever happened, Cliff told them. And, if Seth hadn’t been there, Cliff and Ram would have called 911 and tried to get the disturbance out of the bar themselves, so Troy and Iris shouldn’t feel like they couldn’t have a peaceful meal in the future.

  Iris just smiled and ordered a Caesar salad. Troy followed suit and he was very quiet. A little grumpy. She understood completely. This was Troy’s big play and he’d been upstaged by a deputy with a limp.

  But Iris felt better. After all the worry and tension of the afternoon, it occurred to her that she was stuck with Seth. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was going to be around every corner. They were going to be seeing each other no matter how she decided to behave. She could be mad, hold a grudge, refuse to get over her bad high school experience or she could let this play out and find out more about herself and Seth in the process.

  Seventeen years. Well, the way she’d been dealing with her feelings hadn’t helped her get over it. Or, for that matter, over him. Every time she heard his name, she felt a deep ache. She had never figured out how to move on. And what if she left herself open to him and he hurt her again? That wasn’t going to be easier, but neither would it be harder. If he did something awful again, maybe her heart would finally get the message....

  Something about a glass of wine and thinking about the situation that way brought peace of mind, even though she had no idea where all this might be headed.

  Two salads and a basket of bread arrived. Iris passed the basket to Troy. “Showing up here tonight, not knowing what was going to happen, not knowing where the surprise gifts had come from, was very uncomfortable for me,” she said.

  “Well, I didn’t invite him,” Troy replied.

  “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. Listen to me, please. I’m a pretty sure-footed woman. If my feelings for you change or grow, I’m capable of telling you so. I wouldn’t hesitate to call you or ask you out. I know how to be direct. The truth is, I love you like a brother.”

  He leaned close and whispered, “You have done unspeakable things with your brother!”

  She couldn’t suppress a laugh and covered her mouth. “Give me a break here, Troy—I was trying! I wanted to fall for you! You’re the most wonderful guy I know.”

  He buttered a piece of bread. “So, it just wasn’t that good for you, is that it?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. It was wonderful. It wasn’t love. It was hard to give up. Now stop screwing with me—you’re only thirty, you’re gorgeous, you’re fun, you’ve had plenty of relationships that didn’t last forever and you probably ended the majority of them. Not because there was anything wrong with the girls but because it just wasn’t everything. In fact, I bet you ended a lot of relationships because she was way more into you than you were into her, and you can’t let that happen. That’s dishonest. Wrong.”

  “That’s it, then?”

  “Troy, what would you suggest?”

  “We could keep going, see if it becomes better than perfect, because to me it was pretty perfect....”

  “I don’t want that with you,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  She put down her fork. “Because I really care about you, that’s why. Because I really want to have you in my life for a long time. Friends with benefits?” She shook her head. “I’m not saying I’m too good for that sort of thing. But I wouldn’t do that with you, Troy. I wouldn’t use you like that. Not if I hope to have you as a good friend forever.”

  “I’m available to be used,” he said.

  She smiled at him. He was joking, she knew. She hoped.

  “No,” she said.

  “Could you do that with him? Seth?”

  She shook her head. “Never,” she said. “I’d like to be your friend, but if we can’t, we can’t. Please say we can.”

  “We can,” he said. “It would be easier without Deputy Dawg around, showing off.”

  She laughed again and concentrated on her salad. “Can I keep the scarf? I love the scarf.”

  “You could give me a lot of gifts,” he suggested. “I’d be much more gracious.”

  They got back to their comfort zone, joking, laughing together, though Iris knew nothing would change his feelings. At least not right away.

  They ordered crab cakes and while Iris really wanted to know what was happening with Seth, she didn’t say so.

  It was at least half an hour before Seth came back into the restaurant, holding a cloth-encased ice cube to his l
ower lip. The patrons clapped for him and he gave them a slight nod but went straight to Iris and Troy’s table. A fresh beer was delivered and his old, warm and now stale beer removed.

  “Let me see it,” Iris said. He lowered the ice cube. “Ew. Ouch,” she said.

  “I’ve been slugged more since I came back to Thunder Point than in the past five years. In fact, I’ve been slugged more when I’m with you than at any other time.”

  “Really, I had nothing to do with the bar brawl,” she said in her own defense. “You might need a stitch or two there.”

  “Seriously,” Troy said. “You should go to an E.R. or something.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said, taking a drink from his cold beer. He winced.

  “In fact, you might want a plastic surgeon to look at that,” Iris suggested.

  “Why?”

  “It could leave a miserable scar,” she said.

  He put down his beer and stared at her. “Iris, I have a three-inch scar on my cheek. What difference is it going to make?”

  “Well, that scar really doesn’t look too bad, you know. It’s kind of, I don’t know, manly or something.”

  He raised one eyebrow at her.

  “I think it’s ugly. You should get someone to look at it,” Troy said. “It could put off women.”

  “Nonsense,” Iris disagreed. “But, like with tattoos, you can go too far.”

  “Don’t you like tattoos?” Seth asked.

  “Oh, the right tattoo in the right place works for me,” she said. “But when a person starts to look like a comic book, it’s a little too much. Don’t you think?”

  He smiled but only slightly. “I have no real opinion about tattoos, unless they’re prison tats. It comes in handy to know one when you see one.”

  “How long have you been a police officer?” Troy asked.

  “Seven years.”

  “I thought it was longer,” Iris said.

  He shook his head. “I tested every time they opened testing for new hires, which wasn’t that often. I wasn’t hired the first three times.”

  “Did you have trouble with the testing?” she asked.