The Homecoming (Thunder Point #6)(81)

“I like the sin part,” he said. “Just check everything else with me.”

A couple of months earlier Iris had not thought it possible that they’d overcome their conflicts and wind up in each other’s arms. It was fair to say that never before had she enjoyed this kind of confidence and satisfaction with Seth. They weren’t kids anymore and it was such a relief to be able to approach everything they shared from the perspective of adults who knew what they wanted from life. It gave Iris a peace of mind and spirit she had never anticipated.

But relationships were not without challenges, of course.

A text came in from Seth while she was working.

Call please. When you have a minute.

She called him straight away. She half expected him to ask her what she’d like for dinner and that’s where her head was when he said, “Do you have an hour today or tomorrow that you can come to my office? Robbie Delaney is concerned about Rachel, about his family, about the interview they had with DHS and he’d like to talk to you, but he can’t come to the high school or invite you to Sue Marie’s house. He seems to need some advice.”

Her mind shifted back to that problem. It hadn’t preoccupied her lately, not with Norm’s surgery and other things going on. But it was back. It was here. It was now.

“I have two meetings tomorrow, one at eleven and one at three. I can sneak away any other time.”

“Good. Let me get back to him and call you right back. Thanks, baby. This is good of you. He’s pretty confused and worried.”

Since Rachel’s outburst, Iris had steered clear of Rachel and Brett. She’d handed the case over to the authorities. She hadn’t been the object of anyone’s anger over it lately, hadn’t had any calls from Connie and DHS, had been blissfully ignorant of any details.

Three hours later she was walking into Seth’s office. Robbie Delaney was sitting on the corner of Seth’s desk. Iris had seen him occasionally over the years, here and there. The past year since Rachel had been one of the football cheerleaders she’d seen him more often. She had never given him much thought; they exchanged greetings and moved on. Now, here was a man who clearly had burdens. He looked into his coffee cup and when he looked up his expression nearly shouted fear and shame.

Robbie’s hair was thinning. He was a little heavier, the lines around his eyes a little deeper. And now that winning smile was more hesitant.

“Hi, Iris,” he said.

“Robbie. How are you?” She pulled up a chair. Seth was behind his desk, with Robbie perched on the corner and Iris sitting more or less between them.

“I’m not great right now. I hope you can help. Rachel says it was you who alerted the social workers. That right?”

“Would that upset you? If you found out I was concerned?”

“No! I’d thank you! We got a mess right now.”

She took a deep breath. “I had a talk with Rachel about all the bruises that were showing up. She had a reason for every one. But then I saw what appeared as suspicious behavior—Brett was a little rough with her and clearly very angry. Very angry! I just couldn’t let it go. Robbie, it’s my job. I have to notice things like that. Did Rachel deny it?”

“To the social workers, she totally denied it. She kept that up for a couple of hours after, too. Look at this,” he said, withdrawing a cell phone from his pocket. It was pink. He clicked on the text messages and handed it to Iris.

Parking lot. 3:15

I can’t. I have cheer practice.

B late. 3:15. Come on baby.

I can’t! I’ve been late 3 times!

U gonna give me trouble?

Please!

3:15. I mean it.

Sorry, babe. Does it hurt? U no I love U. Y do U push me?

Rache? Rache? U gonna be mad now? U better answer me or I’m gonna be mad!

Brett, I was at practice! Give me a break!

Don’t I come before practice?

I met you didn’t I?

U were late to me! But on time to cheer?

OMG, I do the best I can! Call me later!

A flood of texts calling out to her followed, texts she couldn’t answer because her father now had her phone.

Iris lowered the phone and looked at Robbie. Her mouth was open in question.

“That was yesterday before the social workers got to the house. Rachel was furious about the accusations. After the women left, I dumped her purse and grabbed her phone. I pay for that phone. I saw the texts and read them out loud and she went berserk. She pitched a holy fit, but I hung on to the phone and demanded the truth and she went to pieces. ‘It’s not fair,’ she said. He doesn’t really hurt her, just a couple of accidents. When I asked her what had to happen in the parking lot at three-fifteen she fell apart and started to sob. She never would say what he wanted but my stomach is sick. Maybe because I was once a teenage boy in that same parking lot. I can’t let this happen, Iris. Tell me what to do.”

She took a deep breath. “I brought you some names of counseling groups for teenage girls in crisis and the name of a counselor you can talk to.”

“What about you?”

She shook her head. She passed the phone to Seth so he could see the messages. “Unfortunately, I can’t reach Rachel. I tried. She’s very angry with me for questioning her about her injuries. Listen, here’s what you have to know about battered girlfriends. It’s right here in the texts. He loves her. He wants her and can’t live without her. If he strikes out at her, it’s her fault, but he’s sorry and he won’t do it again. He promises. He loves her. He needs her. He strikes out again and she made him do it again but he’s sorry and loves her. Again. It’s the worst roller coaster. She’ll protect him and won’t give him up easily. And, Robbie, it’s not just physical abuse. Sometimes it’s emotional. It’s complicated and so challenging. Not only does the abuser learn that behavior from parents or other family members, so does the abused. It takes intervention and therapy to break the cycle.”