The Homecoming. Робин КаррЧитать онлайн книгу.
don’t recognize anyone. Maybe there was some trouble from the other school.”
Iris strode purposefully toward the scene and when she got closer she nearly bumped into the assistant principal, also checking this out. “What’s going on, Phil?”
“Just a little scuffle,” he said. “Except two of those boys are from Canton and one of them is ours. Looks like two on one.”
“What’s going to happen to them?”
“Seth is taking the two Canton boys to his office, Charlie will bring in our boy. They’ll sort it out from there.”
“But if our boy wasn’t doing anything wrong...”
“If he wasn’t, and I think he wasn’t, then he’ll make out fine.” He nodded. “I’m sure Seth and Charlie know what they’re doing.”
“I’m sure,” she said. But she watched while the boys were loaded into two different Sheriff’s Department SUVs. She had great math skills—that would leave only the high school security guard at the stadium while it was being emptied of football players, cheerleaders, band members and fans, and one on-duty deputy to keep an eye on the town tonight. But then, Seth wouldn’t leave Thunder Point until he was comfortable that everything was under control.
She turned and bumped right into Troy. “Oops, sorry. I think maybe you’re right—we should get a pizza.”
“We could be standing around for a long time,” he said. “Unless you want to drive over to Bandon...”
“No, I thought maybe it would be a good idea to hang around Thunder Point tonight in case there are other kids from Canton who aren’t happy about the results of the game.”
He smiled, shook his head and chuckled. “What are you going to do, Iris? Bust up fights?”
“Hey, you’ve never seen my right hook.”
“A testament to my good manners. I’ll meet you over there.”
* * *
There had been no trouble in town after the game, but hanging around the pizza place made for a late night. Troy was a very popular history teacher—and surfer, skier, scuba diver, white-water kayaker—a young legend with some of the students with similar interests. He tended to draw teenagers like a magnet. Iris was popular in her own right. Though her title was guidance counselor, she liked to think of herself as a social worker assigned to a high school. The result of Troy and Iris hanging out in town after a big game was typical—they were surrounded by a crowd. Everyone wanted to know who was being taken away in the police cars, or wanted to talk about the game, or wanted to gossip about teachers, students, townsfolk. And of course the girls always questioned Iris. “Are you dating Mr. Headly? He’s so hot.”
The evening even ended in a fairly typical way, with Troy following her home and jumping out of his car to catch her before she got inside her house. He grabbed her hand and pulled her close. “The whole high school wants us to be dating again.”
“They don’t know we were dating before,” she reminded him. They had mutually decided it wasn’t a good policy unless they were serious. If they turned serious the staff at least deserved full disclosure.
Troy had been serious. Iris had decided, after giving it a great deal of thought, that they weren’t really right for each other. Not that there was a single thing wrong with Troy. For her, there just weren’t any bells.
“Kiss me good-night and see if you suddenly change your mind,” he begged.
She laughed and touched his lips with a finger. “You’re just about my favorite teacher in the world. There’s not another at the high school I have more respect for. And you’re fun! I want to hang out, do fun stuff, be your friend, but that’s all I’ve got. Troy, if you don’t hear me on this, then we can’t even be friends.”
“I think you could be making a big mistake here, Iris,” he said. “You could be giving up the best thing that ever happened to you!”
“Oh, you could be right. But I have to go with my instincts here. Are we on the same page or do I have to stop walking to class with you?”
“Whatever,” he said, backing off. “Really, I think I’d rather you hate me than find me so appealing in all areas but one.”
“There’s no but,” she said. “I think you’re wonderful in all areas. But I don’t think we have a future together because I’m not in love with you. I think you’ll eventually find someone more suited to you and agree. Someone who makes your whistles go off in a huge way. But not if you keep looking at me and neglect keeping your eyes open for the one who’s really right for you.”
“You’re just about out of time,” he warned. “Pretty soon I’m going to get sick of trying.”
She gave him a brief, sisterly kiss on his cheek. “I love you in every way except the right one. The one you’re looking for. Besides, if I took you as my chosen one, it would break the hearts of countless high school girls.”
“And of course I take great consolation in that!” he said with heavy sarcasm. “You’re going to regret letting me get away.”
In fact, she knew she might. It kept her awake very late into the night. They’d known each other for about a year when he’d asked her to go mountain hiking in late spring. They’d gone river kayaking in the summer. They’d also taken in movies, eaten pizza and popcorn, sat on the beach for quite a few sunsets. And they’d made love. Yes, they’d tumbled into bed after the third or fourth date and it was good. Very satisfying and completely five-star. But it hadn’t done to her heart what she’d been looking for, what she’d been needing. She’d had several long talks with herself about being ridiculous—there was nothing about being with Troy that put her off or sent up a red flag. But there was also nothing that made her chest expand and brain completely lose focus. She didn’t think about him constantly, didn’t want to phone him at three in the morning, didn’t miss him horribly when he went on his rafting or scuba trips. She could marry him and probably be 75 percent content.
But if she could see a life as 75 percent happy with a man before she even met him at the altar, what were the odds of them having a successful family life together? Shouldn’t she be at least 100 percent first? Then maybe after marriage and all its familiarity and struggle and predictable disharmony from time to time, 75 percent would look pretty good....
She came to a sudden realization. Oh, God, that’s probably what Seth thinks about me! He likes me a lot. He misses me and wants me back, but as his buddy, his pal, not as the love of his life! He’s been trying to explain that to me for twenty years at least and I just won’t get it! Troy isn’t right for me in all ways just like I’m not right for Seth in all ways!
It took such a long time to fall asleep and then, just because sometimes she was the most unlucky person alive, Norm Sileski decided it was the perfect Saturday morning to cut his grass. She rolled to her side and put the pillow over her head. During the week she had to be up early, perky and ready to face three hundred and fifty high school students with a positive attitude and creative problem-solving skills. On the weekend she liked to sleep in.
The pillow wouldn’t make Norm’s mower go away and she rolled over with a growl. She looked at the clock—it was nine o’clock. When she had finally nodded off at three she’d had a mental plan to wake up at about eleven and have lunch for breakfast. He’d robbed her of at least two hours!
Then she heard the mower ram into the side of her house under her bedroom window and she sat up with a start. What was he doing in her yard?
She grabbed a flannel shirt hanging on the peg in her closet and put it on over her skimpy pajama tank top. Barefoot in the cold October morning, she stormed outside to tell him to stop, to go worry about his own grass, hers was only going to need one more mowing before winter anyway. But when she got to the backyard she was nearly run over by Seth. He stopped the mower, put it on idle so it only hummed and grinned. “Morning.”