The Homecoming

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.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m giving your grass a mow. I’m being a good neighbor.”

“A good neighbor would let me sleep!”

“Out late last night, Iris?” he asked.

“Sort of. Then I had trouble falling asleep and Saturday is my sleep-in day. Now put your mother’s lawn mower away and go home.”

“Come on, Iris. I’m just being helpful. Now you don’t have to pay a kid to do it and you don’t have to do it yourself. You can go fishing or something instead.”

“I just want to sleep for two more hours!”

He laughed. “Jesus, are you ever grumpy in the morning. I’ll be done here in a flash....”

“Just quit. I’ll finish it. Go away. I’m sleeping!”

“That’s obvious,” he said, making a motion with his hand over the left side of his head, indicating a protruding, springy mound.

She hadn’t looked in the mirror. Her hair tended to go a little berserk at night, especially if it was a tossing-and-turning night. She glared at him. “I. Said. Go.”

“Come on, Iris,” he cajoled. “Go make some coffee. You’ll feel better in a few minutes and by then I’ll be done here.”

She took a couple of steps toward him. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

He smiled pleasantly. “I’m wooing you. I’m wearing you down. I want you back.”

“You’re full of shit,” she said. She turned to walk away.

“Come on, Iris. I need you.”

She wasn’t thinking. She really had been asleep and she was really tired. And he really had pissed her off before he said the thing that brought a curtain of red over her eyes, like a fountain of blood. She whirled and slugged him in the jaw as hard as she could before stomping off.

Just like when they were eight years old.

Seth’s heel caught on the wheel of the lawn mower and he tripped backward, landing on his ass. It ran through his mind that if he’d seen that coming he wouldn’t have let her get away with it, then just as quickly he reminded himself she already had. So he grabbed his left knee and began to moan and groan very loudly. “Ohhh. God, Ohhh. Ah! Jesus! Ohhh.”

Through the slits of his eyes he saw her turn and cast a stricken look his way, her mouth open in a nice, shocked O.

“Seth,” she said, rushing to him. “Oh, God, did you hurt your bad leg? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what—”

Then she squealed as he grabbed her, pulled her down and rolled until she was under him. He pressed her down and his eyes glittered as he flashed an evil smile. “My bad leg is the right one. But you hit a police officer. That’s assault. It might be a felony. Depends on the extenuating circumstances.”

“Like you’re just a bastard?” she asked, struggling to push him off.

He held her down effortlessly. “Like temporary insanity. On your part.”

“Get off me, you brute. Or I’ll scream so loud your mother will bring the cleaver.”

“You already screamed. The mower is still humming. Why’d you hit me? I was trying to be nice.”

“No, you weren’t! You were being your usual manipulative self!”

Offended, he grabbed her arms. “When was I manipulative? I’m never manipulative! Unless it’s work oriented! I’m trained to manipulate criminals!”

“Oh-ho, is that right? The last time you said you needed me, you helped yourself to my virginity and took someone else to the prom! Now let me go!”

He was stunned. He went perfectly still. And he was much heavier because he wasn’t holding his weight off her. Iris was gasping for breath and pushing with all her might. He outweighed her by a good fifty pounds. He lifted up, but just enough so she could breathe. He obviously wasn’t letting her get away until he had answers. “What?” he said.

She took a deep breath. Tears came to her eyes. “You heard me. That night. When you broke up with Sassy, got drunk and I took you out of that party before you got in real trouble. I took you to the lookout to sober up a little. You said, ‘Come on, Iris, I need you.’ Then you got me out of my shorts and...”

“No,” he said.

“I know. You don’t remember, right? After it was over I could figure out—you probably didn’t even realize it was me! Jackass!”

“No,” he said again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She laughed. “So everyone in school, in town, could say mean things like, ‘Who is Iris kidding? Why would he hook up with her?’ Don’t you think it hurt enough without that?”

“God,” he said, shock still paralyzing him. “Iris...”

“Oh, shut up and get off me!”

He rolled off her and sat on the grass. He pulled his knees up and leaned his arms on them. “Jesus, what an asshole I must’ve been.”

Iris sat up. “Yes to that.”

“Iris, seriously, I’m sorry. I took advantage of you. Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head and a couple of tears slipped out of her eyes. She brushed them away impatiently. In the moment, it had been like a dream come true! “Not physically. I think you were just moving on instinct and I didn’t stop you. I didn’t realize you didn’t know what you were doing. Or who you were doing it with,” she added with a bit of a choked voice. She looked away.

“Oh, I didn’t know what I was doing, but I must’ve known who I was with.” He shook his head. “I guess that explains the weird dreams.”

“What dreams?”

“Dreams about... Let’s save that discussion. It’s pretty embarrassing. Are you sure I didn’t force myself on you? Like a drunk seventeen-year-old moron?”

“No,” she said weakly. “I must admit I had stupidly been waiting forever for you to discover all those skinny, acrobatic cheerleaders weren’t right for you and you belonged with me, so...” She shrugged. “Thus, my broken heart. Then my anger. Maybe we can get over this now that you know. And you can leave me alone.”

“You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

She just shook her head.

He looked down at his knees. “It must have been thrilling for you,” he said sarcastically. “A teenage drunk climbing all over you.”

“Yeah, well...I’d always heard the first time is awful.”

“Jesus, Iris. I don’t know how I’m going to make this up to you. Sometimes it feels like every time I turn around I have one more stupid move to make amends for. This one is really going to take some thought.”

“Yeah? Well, listen, Seth. Let me make it easy for you because I have thought about it. It would be best if you just let it go, get on with your life and stop expecting me to be that girl again. I’m not, okay? I’m not your best friend anymore. I’m not going to be the one to pull your fat out of the fire every time you’re in trouble. You’re on your own. Just leave me alone.” She pulled herself to her feet.

“I don’t blame you for being angry,” he said.

“It wasn’t just the prom, you stupid shithead,” she said quietly, looking down at him. “It was everything. You used me as your tutor, your counselor so you could talk about your problems with all the pretty, popular girls, your playmate if you were bored. That night you said I was the only girl you’d ever really loved and then you just used me and tossed me out the next day.”

“Iris—”

“I’m over it, Seth. I’m over you. If you think I’m ever going to risk that kind of hurt again, you’ve lost your mind.”

Then she walked away and didn’t look back.

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