The Homecoming (Thunder Point #6)(71)

“It’s a very long drive to do that,” she pointed out.

“It always feels like it’s worthwhile. I get the quiet and alone time of a long drive, a few hours with Oscar and Flora, time to think. I’d say it’s been one of the highlights of my life since I was twenty years old.”

For the rest of the drive, they talked about a hundred things, from careers to families to the town they were both so attached to. They stopped a couple of times for food and drinks but didn’t waste a lot of time. Seth promised he’d take her to a nice hotel for the night and they could sleep in on Sunday morning. They’d been on the road almost exactly seven hours when they pulled up to an ordinary small brick home. The ramp to the front door and the van with the handicap sticker were dead giveaways—this was Oscar Spellman’s house.

Flora let them in and seemed so pleased to see them. Rather than shaking Iris’s hand, she embraced her. “I’m so happy Seth brought you,” she said. “He’s talked about you a little bit.”

“I’m glad to be here. I didn’t know until just recently that you’ve been Seth’s good friends for years.”

“Yes, it’s been a lot of years now,” Flora said. “I did a little cooking. Sometimes one of the kids or grandkids comes by. Did you eat along the way? Do you need a snack? Coffee or tea?”

“I’d love a cup of coffee,” Iris said.

Then the whirring sound of Oscar’s chair announced his arrival in the room. Iris had been unprepared for the fact that he was a quadriplegic. When Seth said Oscar was in a wheelchair she assumed he had lost the use of his legs, but this was more dramatic, more difficult for the family.

And yet this sixty-year-old man had a grin as big as the sky. They all sat around the kitchen table for a little while, getting to know one another, having coffee. It took a very short time for Iris to learn that Oscar had partial use of one arm and hand but needed twenty-four-hour care, most of which Flora handled. They did have a physical therapist and a visiting nurse to help with those chores that were difficult for Flora, but the responsibility was on her for the most part. Now that their children were grown, there was a little help from that quarter, but Oscar and Flora didn’t want to burden the kids with his full-time care.

“The worst part about all of this is being dependent,” Oscar said. “Sometimes it puts me in a real mood. That aside, we get along pretty well.”

“Speaking of getting along, is there anything I can help with while I’m here?” Seth asked. “Anything heavy or difficult that you’d like me to do?”

“There is something,” Flora said. Then she looked at Iris. “I hate to give Seth chores. Usually when he comes, I leave him with Oscar and get out of the house for a while. They can be alone, I can take a break.” She looked back at Seth. “Mark nearly finished putting up the storm windows and there are just a couple left and they’re on the ground floor—no ladder involved. It shouldn’t take long. Iris can visit with Oscar and I’ll help you.”

“I don’t need your help, Flora,” he said, standing. “If there’s anything else you’d like to do.”

“I’d like to come outside with you and breathe the outside air. I can take the screen off your hands and lift the storm window to you, but fastening it in is beyond me. Winter’s coming fast and the insulation on this house just isn’t good enough without those windows. Oscar, do you need anything before I go with Seth to do those last windows?”

“I don’t need nothing,” he said. “Turn off the stove or ask Iris if she can mind it.”

“I can make sure things don’t burn,” Iris said. “What do you have going on over here?”

“Oscar’s favorite that I don’t make too often—greens and corn bread, pork loin, potatoes and cobbler. If you’ll just make sure that pork doesn’t flame up or the greens dry out, I’d be grateful.”

“I can do that,” she said.

Once Flora and Seth went outside, Oscar started the conversation. “Seth is mighty proud of you, Iris. He’s mentioned you several times.”

“Has he?” she asked, grinning.

“Oh, yes. Before he went back to Thunder Point to work, he was talking about you. He said you were a team, growing up. I wonder what he was like as a boy.”

“He was hyperactive, I think. He had white-blond hair when he was really young and I don’t know why, but it was too long and cut real choppy and floppy. He reminded me of an unkempt Peter Pan.”

“Was he always good at sports?”

“Always, I think. But no one made a real big deal over him until high school, then he owned the place.”

Oscar laughed deep in his throat. “I can almost picture it.”

“Do you want me to get out the checker board or something?” she asked.

“Nah. But maybe you can warm up that coffee some,” he said, using his eyes to indicate the cup he kept in his cup holder. “I need as much milk as coffee so I don’t scorch my gullet.”

She jumped up and Oscar stopped her. “No need to be rushing around, girl. I’m not going anywhere. Say, Iris, did you want to play checkers or something?”

She brought him back his coffee and shook her head. “I’m fine. But Seth said men can’t talk unless they’re doing something else.”