The Homecoming (Thunder Point #6)(44)

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.”