Iris

by Chris Keniston

  Grams blew on the chocolate liquid in her cup. “Eric is Adele’s brother.”

  So the poor man had inherited two kids he clearly didn’t know what to do with and lost his sister at the same time. “He doesn’t seem very comfortable with the children.”

  “Few bachelors are.” Grams dipped the cookie in her cup again.

  “That’s true,” Iris nodded reluctantly, “but I would expect an uncle to be a bit more familiar with the children.”

  Grams gently nibbled on the last bite of the cookie and shrugged. Her grandmother was the embodiment of the old adage if you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all. Although usually she always found something nice to say. The woman’s silence served to show that Iris wasn’t the only one who thought the man had a surprisingly distant relationship with the two children he was now responsible for. From what she could see, they all might as well have been strangers.

  “I think his efforts are admirable,” Ralph added. “It’s not easy taking on parenting when there are two parents, never mind a bachelor whose job keeps him out on oil rigs.”

  Iris supposed that would explain why he wasn’t close to his sister’s children. Working on an oil rig in the ocean would make Sunday night dinners a challenge. “Are there any more siblings?”

  “I don’t know,” Grams answered at the same time the General said, “No,” then looked up from his game to see Grams and Iris looking at him. “I forget who mentioned it but there are no other siblings. After all, if there were I don’t suppose that poor man would be trying to take on an instant family without more help.”

  And the man was definitely going to need help and if the last few hours was any indication, for the sake of the children, she had a pretty good idea who that help was going to be.

  “I’m heading home. Have to be at the bakery bright and early.” Lily came through the doorway, her face lighting up at mention of her new business. “I made an extra batch of double butter croissants for breakfast tomorrow and some blueberry scones. Lucy reminded me that Emily enjoyed my scones last year.”

  For the family, one of the perks of Lily being engaged to a fireman was his long shifts. So far she spent almost as much time baking at Hart House as she did in her own bakery. Snatching a cookie from the plate between her and her grandmother, Iris pushed to her feet. “I’ll walk down hill with you.” She should try and get a decent night’s sleep. Tomorrow had every sign of becoming a very long day.

  Chapter Five

  In the short time Eric had been with the children, morning rituals had been a chore at best. Neither child seemed in any hurry to eat, dress, or talk to him. This morning had been a bit of an eye opener on the possibilities for normal. He’d woken up bright and early expecting to either find them still asleep or in their pajamas, huddled quietly. Instead he was greeted by the sight of each child on the sofa, fully dressed, perusing the pages of a book.

  Not for the first time, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, other than whatever he done before, he hadn’t done it right. “Is anyone besides me hungry?”

  Both children looked up. First Emily nodded, and then, sure of his sister’s response, clutching his plush leopard backpack to his side, so did Gavin. For just a beat, he waited for the customary “I want to go home” comment. By the time both children were standing at the front door holding hands, he realized something important had shifted.

  “Mrs. Hart was telling me last night that Lucy is one of the best cooks in the county. Breakfast should be a real treat.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say to the kids; he was never sure what to say to the children. Heck, half the time he wasn’t sure what to say to adults. Small talk was not his gift. Especially when whomever he was talking to didn’t talk back. Right about now he’d settle for a nod of acknowledgment.

  “Oh, there you are!” Lucy came hurrying through the front door to greet them on the porch. “I knew you were early risers. I just set breakfast out. I made my special French toast casserole and I even have a surprise for you.”

  Emily’s eyes widened and for just a second the corners of her mouth twitched, almost breaking into a smile. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

  “You are a smart girl. I can’t fool you.”

  This time, a hint of a smile graced Emily’s lips. He should have known to try pancakes. As a kid he had loved when his mom made cookie-cutter pancakes. His reward for not fussing when she ran a lot of errands would be to stop and go through the extra-large cookie-cutter section and pick out a new shape for his pancakes. Sometimes for a cookie. He’d forgotten about that until now. The memory was almost enough to make him smile.

  Lucy rubbed her hands together and gestured for the children to follow her.

  Inside, the General sat at one end of the table, a dog on either side of him, and Mrs. Hart at the opposite end. He had hoped to find Iris there as well. In only a few hours he’d grown to appreciate her innate ability to recognize what the kids needed, and steer them in the right direction. Then again, he was a fast learner. Taking in the buffet set up on the side board, he walked with the children to the opposite side of the room and picking up a plate, looked to Emily. “Do you want to serve yourself or would you like me to help you?”

  Emily slowly perused everything on the buffet. From left to right, her gaze lingered on the chocolate chip pancakes. He should have known. His mom had nothing on Lucy. Stars, gingerbread men, or was that a snowman?

  Didn’t matter, Emily reached for the plate and held it in front of the pancakes. “I’ll have three, please.”

  He didn’t understand why, but it pleased him enormously that she let him help. Not that he hadn’t tried since the day he picked her up at the airport, but somehow, this felt different.

  “I see we’re already indulging.” Iris came walking into the room, a bright smile on her face. She paused at her grandmother, leaned in to kiss her on the cheek before joining them at the buffet. “I slept like the proverbial log. How about you guys? Did you have a good night sleep?”

  Emily nodded first, then Gavin followed his sister’s lead.

  “Good morning, Lady.” Iris scratched the scruff of the golden retriever’s neck.

  So intent on serving Emily what she wanted quickly so he could take care of his nephew, Eric hadn’t noticed when the two dogs had come to sit at the children’s side, never mind recognize which dog was which. “How can you tell them apart?”

  Iris stepped around Gavin to scratch the other dog a moment with one hand, and ran her fingers gently across the back of the little boy’s curls. “I’d like to say there’s a big secret to it, but Sarge has a small diamond patch of white on his chest and Lady is all blonde.”

  The one with the diamond patch, Sarge, sat staring at Gavin, a rough looking tennis ball between his paws. Still holding the plush backpack with one hand securely on his lap, when Gavin leaned over to pick the ball up, the General cleared his throat. “He’s always looking for someone to play fetch, but not in the house. You can take that outside and play with him later.”

  Gavin nodded and flashed the pup an apologetic glance before digging back into his food with his free hand.

  “Heaven help me, the coffee pot broke down at the house.” Poppy hurried into the room, bypassing her grandparents, then doubling back, quickly kissed each on the cheek before practically diving for the coffee in the corner. “We have an early elders meeting at church. They want the entire staff there and even earlier than usual.”

  The General shook his head. “Good thing you never joined the Corps.”

  Swallowing a long gulp of the hot brew, Poppy smiled over her shoulder at the older man. “No argument from me there, sir. I love you, but early to bed early to rise is one gene I did not inherit.” Topping off the cup, she put a croissant on a plate and hurried to take a seat across the table.

  As much as he enjoyed pancakes, the smell of freshly cooked bacon, and what he presumed must have been Lucy’s French toast casserole, had him loading his plate, leaving no
room for childhood memories of cookie cutter pancakes. Ready to sit, somehow the dogs had done it again. Sarge banked left and steered Gavin toward the General, and Lady moved Emily towards Mrs. Hart, leaving him and Iris in between his niece and nephew once again.

  “Do you have any plans for today?” Mrs. Hart asked.

  “As a matter of fact,” Eric unfolded his napkin on his lap, “I need to hit the grocery store.”

  Iris took a seat beside him. “I thought I’d run him over to the One Stop for a few things. Perhaps the children could stay here with you?”

  “Of course, we don’t want to impose,” Eric said hurriedly. Everyone had been so nice to him so far, he didn’t want to wear out his welcome before his day really started.

  “Nonsense. We don’t get many chances to spend time with children. I have just the new project for us.” Mrs. Hart dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin and turned to face Emily. “Do you like to paint?”

  Emily bobbed her head enthusiastically. “Yes. My teacher, Mrs. Henry, says I’m very good. Mama always puts my pictures on the refrigerator.”

  Any joy the project held slipped at the reminder of the loss of her mother. She tipped her chin up and blinked back watery eyes. The brave front reminded him so much of Adele. Not so much the adult who had adapted so well to her husband’s lifestyle, but the little girl who’d insisted she could play ball with her big brother, or refused to wear a dress if her big brother didn’t have to, or who graduated top of her class in mechanical engineering, beating out her big brother.

  Those are the moments that hit Eric the hardest. But of all the things he’d lost through the years, the right to grieve for his sister had to take a backseat to her children. He owed Adele that much. No matter what, these children and their broken hearts would have to come first.

  ***

  There were a great many things that Iris loved about the lake. The One Stop and Katie O’Leary had been two of them since she was old enough to remember the delightful redhead and her lovely Irish lilt. For a lot of years, Iris thought the woman was an angel. Sometimes she still did.

  “Top of the morning to you.” Katie popped up from behind the counter, smiling at Iris as though she’d come in carrying the Holy Grail.

  “And the rest of the day to you!” Of all the exotic places Iris had travelled with the families she worked for, she had yet to set foot on the Emerald Isle. Visiting Ireland was on the top of her bucket list. Maybe now that she had some free time on her hands she could go. Of course, logic said what she really needed now was a new job.

  “And who do we have here?” Wiping her hands on the side of her jeans, Katie came out of the aisle and smiled up at Eric.

  “Eric Johnson.” He extended his hand. “A guest at Hart House.”

  “Ah.” Katie cast a brief glance in Iris’s direction. “Hart House seems to be doubly blessed with handsome guests lately. You wouldn’t be married now, would you?”

  Eric chuckled softly and flashed a smile at Katie that almost made Iris’s knees buckle. “No, ma’am. A bachelor through and through.”

  And just like that, he must have remembered he might still be a bachelor, but one with major responsibilities. As quickly as the smile took over his face, it fell away, replaced by the sad reality of recent events.

  “Well. What can I do for you two?”

  Eric looked around the small neighborhood store.

  A wide array of dry and fresh goods mixed with tackle and bait, and of course, boating supplies, made perfect sense for a store on the lake with a long wooden dock. In the summer there was nothing unusual about driving up to the dock in a boat, running in for whatever a person needed and heading back out to open water. For her, that would have been candy and chocolates as a kid and later when she was more grown up, beer or wine. His gaze seemed to land on the fishing gear.

  “Do you fish, Eric?” Katie asked.

  “Not since I was a kid.” He ran his hand up one fishing rod in particular. “My dad had a rod that looked a lot like this one.”

  “Popular color. Good sturdy pole. With all the fresh water creeks around here, we sell quite a lot of that one.”

  Eric nodded and turned to the canned goods section. “What I really need is some staples to cook decent meals for our stay here.”

  “And how long will that be?”

  The question gave him pause. Though they hadn’t discussed it yet, Iris had the feeling this man was running on a wing and a prayer because beyond any doubt, he did not have a plan. “Our reservation is for one week.”

  Katie gave a quick dip of her chin, but said nothing more.

  Referencing the recipes Iris had printed out for him, he walked about gathering the items on the list. Iris started out at his side, but quickly realized the man might not have been a gourmet chef but he at least knew his way around a grocery list.

  “There’s a sadness in those eyes,” Katie said softly, wrapping up some soda bread. “Lucy asked for some extra loaves.”

  “Sounds like we’re having corned beef and cabbage for dinner.”

  “That it does.” Katie placed the bread in a bag and glanced up at the man carefully reading his list. “If any place—or any one—can bring some sunshine back into those eyes it would be you folks at Hart House.”

  While Iris appreciated Katie’s confidence in her family, she was pretty sure that it would take a lot more than Lily’s baking or Gram’s smile to make what was wrong with that new family right again.

  “You know,” she sidled up closer to Iris, “a good woman can do miracles for a troubled man.”

  “That may be true, but it sounds like you’ve been spending too much time with Lucy and her matchmaking notions.”

  “I’m just saying the right woman can do wonders for a broken heart.”

  “It’s not what you’re thinking. This situation is going to need more than a good woman.”

  Katie shrugged, smiled, and handed Iris the bag. “Never underestimate the power of a good woman.”

  Chapter Six

  “Got it, Grams. Thanks.” Iris slipped her phone into her pocket. “Everything is going well at the house. Grams suggested we take a quick detour through town, stop at Lily’s bakery and pick up something special for dessert at lunchtime.”

  A big part of Eric wanted to head back to check on the kids, but another part of him liked the idea of a little more time where he didn’t have to question his every thought and action. “Lead the way.”

  In the General’s Jeep, Iris turned onto the main road. Lawford wasn’t a very large place, he’d known that from his quick Internet map search. In only a few minutes the town’s short Main Street came into view.

  “We can do a quick drive to the end and back, or if you’re up to it, we can park here and walk it.”

  “Walking would be good. I’ve neglected my regular workout routine ever since I found out about Adele. I’m going to have to figure out how to fit that back into my routine sooner than later. And eventually, if I want to pay the bills, I’m going to have to return to work.”

  Iris swung into the nearest parking spot in front of the Pastry Stop and hopped out of the car. “You mentioned you worked on oil rigs.”

  “Pretty much.” He slammed his door shut. “I work on any ocean-based machinery. There are only a few of us—”

  “Iris! What a pleasant surprise!” A slender brunette wearing some kind of frock stuttered to a halt in front of his tour guide. “I thought you were in Thailand. Oh no, wait, India. Riding elephants. It sounds so exciting! I’m green with envy.”

  A plastic smile slid across Iris’s face, quickly erasing the momentary grimace. “Yes, India. And where are you rushing off to?”

  A genuine smile took over the brunette’s face. “The bakery, of course. Business has just been booming at the Cut ‘N Curl ever since I started serving Lily’s croissants and mandels in the morning and her brownies and cookies in the afternoon. It’s only 10:30 and I’m already out of everything.”

>   “I am so glad to hear that.” This time Iris’s face lit up with a genuine smile.

  The bubbly woman looked down at her watch. “I hate to run but Mrs. Norton’s perm is going to time out in fifteen minutes so I have to hurry.”

  Iris waved as the woman rushed passed them into the pastry shop, and pivoted around to walk up the street.

  “Cut and curl? Salon?” he asked.

  “Yep. Betty bought the place a few years ago.” Iris waved an arm to the right as they approached a blinking pink neon sign. “This is Mabel’s Diner. Best home-cooked food after Lucy’s.”

  “I’ll remember that. I don’t suppose they deliver?”

  Iris chuckled. “You’re going to have to go back to Boston for that.”

  He nodded, taking in the small shops, slowing down as they reached the spinning barber pole. Inside he recognized the General playing checkers with Ralph. Glancing upward, he bit back a laugh at the storefront name. “Floyd’s?”

  “That’s right.” She grinned up at the sign and tossed him an I-dare-you-to-say-something-about-it stare.

  He’d learned a lot about women and communicating with just a look. Not willing to take the silent challenge, he opted for a simple and hopefully safe question. “And what’s the barber’s name?”

  “That would be Floyd.” Her shoulders relaxed and she waved at the men inside and turned away to continue walking. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” He quickened his gate to catch up to her.

  “Basically, he bought the barber shop from Floyd. There was so much nostalgia attached to this place having the same name as the popular 60’s TV show with Andy Griffith, that not only did the shop keep the name, but so did the barber.”

  In an odd way that sort of made sense. Singers and actors took on stage names all the time. “So what’s his real name?”

  Iris waved her arms open. “Haven’t a clue. I’m not sure anybody does.”