Iris

by Chris Keniston

  “Mrs. Hughes,” Eric started, the remainder of his words never fully forming as the edge of the gun lifted upward, the woman retreated half a step and unleashed a full load of water, drenching her husband.

  “Actually,” Anne Hughes actually cracked what some might call a smile, “you may have something here.”

  Eric looked to Iris, standing mouth open, staring at the woman now fully grinning at the General, and wondered if maybe he was in reality the only one to have lost his mind.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I’m not sure I believe today really happened.” A glass of lemonade in each hand, Iris sank onto the front stoop and handed one to Eric.

  Sitting inches away from her, he accepted the cool drink and shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand what your grandfather did.”

  Chuckling softly, Iris settled in, resting her elbows on her knees. “He says they communicated.”

  “Yeah, I heard that too. But I still don’t understand.”

  “Apparently,” she explained, “British society matrons and Marine Corps generals have more in common than I realized.”

  A sweet smiled crossed Eric’s lips. “Apparently.”

  “Well, don’t you two look perfectly comfortable.” Fiona Hart came up the porch steps. “I’ve been called to the kitchen. It seems we’re expecting a few extra for supper tonight.”

  Iris started to rise. “I’ll help.”

  “No need.” Grams patted her shoulder. “We’ve got this.”

  Iris almost swallowed her tongue when Mr. Hughes followed Grams onto the porch—alone—his wife still walking with the General.

  “Don’t look so alarmed, young lady.” Rupert Hughes paused on the steps and smiled at her. “I do believe my Anne has finally met her match.”

  From where she sat, Iris could see the remnants of activity fluttering down the hill and across the Point. Most of their friends had either called it a day and gone home or joined Lucy and Lily in the kitchen. Only a few remained outdoors enjoying the last remnants of a warm sunny day, the General and Mrs. Hughes being two of them.

  After some soft spoken yet heated words, Roberta and her sister may or may not have made peace with their mom. For Iris, a British accent was a bit like a southern accent; no matter the words, everything sounded rather pleasant and polite. Either way, Eric had forced himself to walk away to allow the children time with the other side of their family.

  “They seem to be having fun.” A trace of melancholy laced his words.

  It took Iris a moment to realize he wasn’t talking about Anne Hughes and the General but the children and their aunts. Batting away at the tetherball, the children could be heard laughing all the way up the hill.

  “They do.”

  “It’s hard to believe how much they’ve changed in the short time we’ve been here.”

  “You’re a good uncle,” Iris said.

  Eric let out a scoffing laugh. “Hardly. Without you and your family I would still be bumbling my way through this and probably setting the kids up for a life of therapy. Hell,” he shook his head, “I still might.”

  “Nonsense. You’ve had great instincts all along.”

  “You’ve said that before. I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I am.” She shrugged. “Besides, love goes a long way and those children love you.”

  “Maybe, but I sure as hell love them. More than I would have thought.” He shifted his gaze from the kids laughing and playing with their aunts to Iris. “If Anne decides to fight me for custody, I’m going to have to make some changes.”

  “Like?”

  “For one thing, I need to find a nine to five, Monday through Friday job.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “At first I thought a nanny like you, or a housekeeper like Lucy would be the perfect answer.” He chuckled. “I even hoped to convince you to help me pick someone.”

  She didn’t know if she was honored he wanted her help or offended he didn’t want to convince her to take the job.

  “Now, I don’t think I could leave them for weeks at a time and not worry.”

  “And yet,” she shrugged, “parents do it all the time.”

  “I don’t know that I want to be that kind of parent. Or that Adele would want me to be that cavalier with her children.”

  “She knew what you do for a living. I’m sure she took all of that into consideration before picking you over Roberta or the other sister or even Richard’s mother.” Though she imagined any career short of being a serial killer would have beat out Mrs. Hughes for guardianship. Joining the Marine Corps would probably be easier than living under that woman’s thumb.

  “On the other hand,” he said, “I doubt she thought I’d ever actually become guardian. I know I didn’t.”

  The tetherball spun around on the tall pole. Emily stepped in to smack it back around, and Eric pushed to his feet and Iris stood beside him. She’d been right about his instincts, the same sixth sense that had served her well caring for other people’s children pricked at her now.

  For the second time today, life seemed to pass in slow motion. One of the aunts smacked at the ball, sending it to unwind from the pole. Emily reached up and then swung madly at the ball with both hands. And missed. Unfortunately, the laws of gravity and forward momentum won over balance. The sound of her tiny body smacking against the ground echoed like the crack of a lightening strike.

  At Emily’s piercing cry, Eric was already halfway down the porch steps. Hitting the ground with a loud thud, he tore off down hill, Iris on his heels.

  From inside the house, Grams was already running down the steps and hurrying to catch up to them. She must have seen what happened from a window. Moving quickly, but not breaking into a downright run for what was probably going to be nothing more than a scraped knee and frightened little girl, everyone focused on Emily pushing to her feet. Tears streamed down the little girl’s face. Her aunts, only feet away, rushed to her side.

  Holding her hands palm up, Emily’s tears cascaded in earnest. Completely ignoring the aunts she barely knew, Emily turned, scanning the distance and then taking a slow step forward, cried even louder. With Anne Hughes lurking in the background, this was the last thing Eric needed.

  ***

  A skinned knee. He told himself that was probably all she had. Eric and his sister had gotten worse than that a bazillion times growing up. Then again, he’d also chipped a front tooth taking a fall on the ice hockey rink. Still, his heart hammered in his chest nonetheless.

  Crying loud enough for the sobs to carry as clearly as if she were standing next to him, Emily took off running. To his relief, the little girl saw her British grandmother reach out and continued to run past her. Mrs. Hart had veered right along the paved path and was several steps ahead of Eric and directly in Emily’s trajectory. Not a surprise that the little girl would run to the sweet older woman. After all, she’d been everything a child could want in a grandmother. Loving, warm, caring, and most of all, fun.

  Both Emily and Gavin had developed bonds with all the Hart family members, but just as Gavin loved the General and his dogs, Emily responded to Fiona Hart and her granddaughter Iris.

  Fiona’s steps slowed as the little girl approached and much to his surprise, he saw Fiona step to one side as Emily zoomed past her. His own pace slowed, taking in the distance between himself and his niece. The General and Anne Hughes were now marching up the hill. Eric’s dad and grandfather could be heard coming down the hill behind him. The same as the first day he’d arrived, multiple people were on hand to step in and save the day.

  Emily’s cries grew louder and Eric felt his heart crack. How did parents do this? How badly would he hurt when she actually broke a bone? Fought with a boy? Lost out on a close call competition? The list of life’s painful lessons was longer than his arm and chiseling away at his heart.

  Little arms raised up and held out as she took her last steps, closing in on where Iris stood beside him. Wasn’t it na
tural for a little girl to want to be comforted by a woman? So why did knowing Emily would run into Iris’s waiting embrace sting so badly?

  “It hurts,” Emily cried, almost tumbling past Iris and into her uncle.

  Folding his arms around her while lifting her up, he held her close against his chest. Her tiny head nestled into his shoulder, her long hair tickling his neck. And he loved every minute of it. She hadn’t run to her blood grandmother or the grandmother of her heart or a mother figure. She’d run to him. To Uncle Eric.

  Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, he tipped his head back to look her in the eye. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

  She held up her palms. The raw scrapes probably hurt him as much as they hurt her. Then she lifted a leg straight out, locking her skinned knees.

  “Oh my. You got it good.” He ran his hand along the untouched portion of skin. “We’re going to have to get you cleaned up.”

  “No.” She buried her head in his shoulder.

  Hefting her higher up in his grasp, he tipped his head toward the house for Iris to follow. Behind him, Fiona, the General, Anne and her husband, and his father and grandfather trailed along. Everyone worried about Emily.

  “Oh, what have we here?” Lucy came up to the little girl and clapping her hands lightly, reached out for Emily.

  In complete contrast to the first day when Emily had so easily gone with Lucy, now she tightened the strangling hold around his neck.

  “There’s chocolate ice cream in the freezer,” Lucy coaxed, and Emily’s sobs slowed. “I bet we could get your uncle’s permission for two scoops.”

  Emily lifted her head from his shoulder. He would have to remember to add chocolate ice cream to his bag of tricks once they left Hart Land.

  “But,” Lucy held up a finger, “we have to clean you up first.”

  Tiny fingers tightened around his neck, but Emily remained upright.

  “How about if we let Lucy clean you up and then we all have ice cream?” He could probably figure out how to wash out a few scrapes, but until he got a better handle on the gentle end of dealing with a little girl, he’d just as soon Lucy did it.

  Emily didn’t move.

  “I bet Lucy might even have some sprinkles for that ice cream.”

  “Rainbow?” Emily asked.

  Eric didn’t want to make any promises he, or Lucy, couldn’t keep. He cast a sideways glance in the housekeeper’s direction and spotted the slight head bob. “Rainbow,” he confirmed.

  Sliding down from his hold on her, as she’d done that first day, Emily extended her hand and followed Lucy’s lead up to the house and into the kitchen.

  Lips pressed tightly together, Anne Hughes sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Uncle.”

  “Excuse me?” Eric asked.

  “I cry uncle.” Lifting her chin, she looked Eric in the eye. “I have been convinced that the children are happy here with you. And I have also been thoroughly reminded how much happier my son was with your sister, perhaps not in spite of her American ways, but because of them.”

  Eric nodded. He wasn’t so sure about Adele and Richard, but he would take any concessions this prim and proper woman would give him.

  “Mostly, that little display of unstaged affection confirms the children do indeed love you, and no matter how much I might want them closer to me, I can’t possibly take away another person in their lives.”

  And for that, Eric was truly grateful.

  Anne Hughes marched past him, pausing momentarily at his side. “But don’t think I won’t be watching.” And just like that she was gone.

  Walking past him, his grandfather smiled wide, and then his dad slowed his steps. “You’re doing great. Really great.”

  Roberta paused at his side. “Adele knew this would happen.”

  “What?” His head whipped around.

  “Why she picked you over my sister and me.” Roberta shrugged. “Not that we’re not wonderful aunt material, but she knew you were father material. Apparently, it has something to do with playing baseball, and video games, and not letting her drown.”

  Memories of Adele horning in on games with his friends came flooding back and made him smile. He and his friends always let her play and somehow he’d forgotten that despite all the swimming lessons, it was a vacation in Orlando where every afternoon he’d held her up in the pool while she practiced her kicks and breathing. She finally got it.

  “She said you were the most patient and loving brother a girl could ever have. That never once did she feel she wasn’t your equal or that anything she wanted was unattainable.” A few silent seconds passed and Roberta nodded, taking a step back. “She was definitely right.”

  He stood perfectly still, watching Roberta, her sister, and the General’s newly formed troops marching their way up to the house, then cast a glance down the hill to the Point. No matter how much faith his sister had in him, he had to wonder if things would have worked out so well had he never come here.

  This place was perfection in many ways. Yes, the land was beautiful, yes, the family was great, but along with Emily and Gavin, one person in particular had become extremely important to him. He extended his hand and curled her fingers into his. “Walk with me a minute?”

  Iris’s eyes rounded, but without a word she nodded and fell into step beside him.

  When was the last time simply holding a woman’s hand in his made him feel like he could conquer the world? Maybe never.

  “I can live anywhere with my job.”

  She nodded.

  “Assuming I keep doing what I do.” And he’d already decided whatever he does to earn a living, most of it would have to be done from home where the children were. “I could do this.”

  “Yes, you can,” she agreed.

  “I have a lot to learn still.”

  She smiled up at him. “Yes, but so does every parent.”

  Now he needed to consider carefully what he wanted—needed—to say next. “Have you given any more thought to what you’re going to do when you go back to work?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “Some.”

  “Some?”

  She nodded and he wished she’d given him more than a vague one word answer.

  “Still contemplating a job that would keep you near the lake?”

  “Yes.” She kept her gaze ahead. “Cindy says Mrs. Ferguson at the elementary school is thinking of finally retiring.”

  “You’re certified to teach too?” Nothing about the woman he loved surprised him any more.

  “No, but I have a masters degree and that qualifies me to teach in this state.”

  Okay, he could work with that. Actually, his heart did a little two step. If she’d give him a chance, a real chance, he’d have plenty of time to talk her into helping him not with the kids, but with the rest of his life. “Here goes nothing.” He pulled her around to face him and lifting his hand, rubbed the confused wrinkle from her forehead. “I would very much like to give us a chance. A real chance. Not a doofus guy needs a nanny, not a vacation time fling.”

  “Fling?” Her brows shot up but her eyes lit with amusement.

  He rolled his eyes momentarily skyward. “If you’re going to pick on me, I’ll never get out what I want to say.”

  “Sorry.” She smiled up at him, inching closer to him. “What do you want to say?”

  The nearness of her breath against his chin sent his heart rate racing and all coherent thought slipped away.

  “Eric,” she coached.

  “I want more for us. For all of us. And if you don’t want to stay and work here at the lake, I want to go where you are.” There. He’d said it.

  “You do?” Was that hope he saw in her gaze?

  He nodded. “Very much so.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” She wasn’t going to make this easy on him, was she?

  “That’s the question on the table. Why?”

  He sucked in another deep fortifying breath. Nothing ventured, not
hing gained. “Because I’m in love with you.”

  It took a second for a slow, sweet smile to take over her face. She inched up on tippy toes and pressed sweet soft lips against his. “Guess it’s pretty cool that I love you too.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded.

  “And you’re not afraid of taking on the Queen of England?”

  Her head swayed from side to side. “Not as long as we’ve got each other.”

  Pulling her into the fold of his arms, he let his hands fall to her waist. “Then you’d better strap yourself in, cause we’re in for one helluva ride.”

  Chapter Twenty-One — Epilogue

  Iris stood on the path from the car to her grandparents’ home. Had anyone bet her even a few short weeks ago that she would have spent Easter morning surrounded by an army of young children hunting down colored eggs—and loved every minute of it—she’d have lost her savings.

  “Yeah. I understand. Let me know.” Eric hung up the phone and squeezed her hand.

  “A job?” She knew that unlike a banker or a plumber, the type of work Eric did could take him away pretty far and possibly for pretty long.

  “Maybe.” Eric pulled her into the fold of his arms.

  With the children around, they didn’t do that nearly as often as either of them would have liked. The last few weeks had been heaven on earth. Maybe it was a little selfish of her, but she wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

  “Gil’s going to see if Kurt’s up to it, but odds are pretty good it’s going to have to be me. We can’t chance anyone else. Not this time.”

  “I know.” Iris let her head rest on his shoulder. The children and their grandparents would be back from town any minute and the rest of the family were waiting inside Hart House.

  “There is a bright side. I won’t lose a day traveling. This rig is in the Gulf. I’ll be able to leave tonight and hit the problem first thing in the morning. That will at least save me a couple of days.”

  She was thankful for any small favor. “I’m more worried about Gavin. We’ve only now gotten him to not carry the cheetah around twenty-four seven. I hope this doesn’t cause a setback.”