Nolan: Return to Signal Bend (Signal Bend)(7)

“Well, at least it’s not floating in green goo,” Rose muttered and started her car. “A dead bug for Shannon, and a rusted-out old sign for Daddy. You are one weird little chick, Irie.”

A vintage 1920s Harley-Davidson showroom sign was not a ‘rusted-out old sign.’ Iris was not going to let her sister bring her down.



oOo



At home later that afternoon, while Shannon and Millie were making supper, Rose was online with her boyfriend, and Joey was playing a racing game on the Xbox, Iris went out and crossed the big yard to her father’s garage.

It was a huge thing and his favorite ‘room’ of the house. Aside from housing Shannon’s SUV, his truck, and two Harleys and an old Indian, the garage had a fourth bay that was walled off from the others and climate-controlled. He had a mancave set up in there, and he worked on whatever project bike he had going there as well.

The overhead door was closed—not surprisingly, considering the temperature—so Iris went to the small door at the side and knocked.

“Yeah!” he called, and she went in.

He grinned when he saw her. “Hey, baby flower. Supper ready?”

“No, not yet. I just wanted to hang out for a minute, if that’s okay.”

“You know it is. Have a seat. Let me just get this fork tightened, and I’ll sit with you.”

“Don’t stop. You know I like to watch.”

Still grinning, he nodded and turned back to his work. “Grab yourself a beer and keep me company.”

Iris sat on the tattered old plaid loveseat and leaned over to the little cube of a fridge for a beer. While she sipped at it, she watched her father work. They didn’t speak, and they didn’t need to. She really did enjoy watching him. He was doing something he loved, and she could see that he was perfectly content, thinking of nothing but the work, leaving outside this room any burdens he might be carrying.

He was old, sixty-three at his last birthday, and his long hair and beard had gone grey, but she knew it was still mostly thick and full under his black beanie. He had been terribly hurt in another really horrible thing, one that she had been away from, and his body was scarred and often achy and stiff, but it was still a big, broad, strong body. He was like a mountain. He endured.

When she finished her beer, she set the empty on top of the little fridge. “Daddy, can I talk to you?”

He stood and came over, wiping his hands on a shop towel. “Sure, baby. Something weighing on your pretty head?”

She waited until he’d sat at her side before she answered. “Nothing bad. Just…can I stay? Live here, I mean?”

Though she was confident he wouldn’t deny her, she had expected some surprise. Her father wanted her and Rose to ‘live their dreams.’ When he talked about Daisy—something he rarely did, at least not with them—he always said that the hardest thing about losing her was knowing the she hadn’t gotten a chance to live her dreams. He wanted all his kids to have and do everything they wanted, to have big lives, and he said that Signal Bend was no place to do that.

And that was true. Even now, as it burgeoned and thrived, Signal Bend was a small town. A tiny town. No room for big dreams.

But Iris didn’t have any dreams.

His reaction to her question, however, was not surprise. He simply considered her quietly for several seconds. And then he said, “You know you can. You’re welcome as long as you want to be here. But that’s what you want?”

“Yeah. I got a job on Main Street today. At Jubilee Antiques. I start on Monday.”

“Jubilee…That’s Geoff Robins.” Her dad nodded. “He’s not a bad guy. Shannon said he had some of the other owners ruffled because his stock was too oddball for Main Street, but he charmed them all quiet.”

“I like that it’s oddball.”

“You don’t want more than this? You don’t want to take that new degree and do something exciting with it? You don’t want anything bigger and better than this small life?”

“Nope. I’m excited about this. I love it here. And I can help with Millie and Joey, too.”

“I love you being here.” He set his big old hand on her leg. “Did you talk to your mom about this?”

Her mother would not be pleased, but Iris was twenty-three years old. “Nope. I will, but it’s not her call.”

That earned her a knowing smirk, and Iris grinned back. Her dad didn’t do what her mom had always done. He didn’t talk about her mom, except the way he just had—even since they’d been grown. Iris couldn’t think of any time he’d ever said anything critical directly to her or Rose. She’d overheard him talking to Shannon a few times, but that didn’t count. In fact, it made it even better to know that he was angry, too, yet he did all he could to keep it away from his kids.

“I’ll tell her after Christmas.”

“That’s probably best.” Giving her thigh a gentle pat, her dad stood up with a groan. “You ready to go in and see if there’s food yet?”

On the walk back to the house, he gave her little white pickup, parked along the side of the garage, a glance. “How’s Moby running?”

“I hit a pothole driving home. It’s been kind of rattly since.” She dipped her head, ashamed. One thing her dad didn’t like was careless driving.