The Lake Season (14 page)

“I was thinking of going up tomorrow afternoon,” he said. Which made Iris's heart leap wildly against her ribs. Until he explained that he was driving up for a lumber order for her father. “I could use the help, if you're up for it.”

“Oh, right. The lumber,” she said, feeling foolish and determinedly stamping out all images of leaf-strewn trails and cozy bed-and-breakfasts.
What is wrong with me?
But she recovered quickly. “Sure, I'd love to come with you. To help.”

He smiled. “Good. There's a great little roadside bistro in Stowe where I always stop to eat. I thought maybe we could have dinner on the way home.”

Iris brightened. So it was sort of a date. Maybe.

“Sounds great.”

Their smiles were interrupted by some loud whoops from the dance floor.

“Is she okay?” Cooper asked. And Iris knew he hadn't forgotten about Leah any more than she had.

Leah was still dancing with the stocky guy in the plaid shirt. He spun her around, and she shrieked flirtatiously. Iris winced, watching her new shoes wobble, imagining the scuffs and dings.

“She's had too much to drink,” Iris said. It had been a while, but the years hadn't changed the signs. When Leah drank, her volume and animation climbed, matching the intake. According to her current display, she'd had plenty. “And Plaid Shirt Guy isn't helping.”

Suddenly Plaid Shirt pulled her into a rough embrace, and Leah stumbled up against him, nose to nose.

Cooper jumped up.

“What are you going to do?” But he was already heading for the dance floor. Iris rushed after him, a mixture of relief and worry in her chest: Was he jealous?

Leah spotted him first. “Coo-per!” she cried out girlishly, extricating herself from Plaid Shirt's clutch and throwing her arms around Cooper.

“What's the deal?” Plaid Shirt asked, stepping back.

Cooper held up his hand. “She's had a little too much,” he said.

“What the hell do you care?” the guy slurred. Apparently he had, too.

“Oh, is that how you play, honey?” The guy was getting angry. But Leah didn't seem to notice.

“Want to dance?” she slurred, looking up at Cooper.

Without warning, two other guys came to stand behind Plaid Shirt. Iris touched Cooper's arm. “Let's get her home.”

Leah broke away. “Who's leaving?” she sputtered, weaving grotesquely between them. “Not me!”

Plaid Shirt grinned hungrily. “No one's gonna make you, sweetheart.”

Iris could feel Cooper inhale slowly. “Look, buddy, we're just looking out for our friend.”

“Your friend is fine,” Plaid Shirt hissed. “Fuck off.”

At that, Leah spun around and slapped him.

“Leah!” Iris shouted.

Cooper reached for her arm, bringing it calmly but firmly down. “Easy there.”

But Plaid Shirt reversed, turning on Cooper. “Hey, don't touch my girl!”

And then everything erupted. Iris felt herself being shoved backward, and instinctively she shielded her face.

Iris watched, stunned, as one guy grabbed Cooper's arm and the other took a swing.

Cooper's head snapped to the left, and Iris let out a shriek. But in an instant, Cooper had shoved the guy who was holding him to the side and returned one clean hit to the other. Both men stumbled away from him as the bar staff descended to break up the fight.

There was the scraping of chairs and feet, and finally the men parted. Cooper stood in the center of the floor, still holding his jaw.

Iris went to him. “Are you all right?”

Cooper winced. His hair was askew, but there was no blood. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“Let me see.” Gingerly she touched his chin, already an angry shade of red.

“Should've seen it coming,” he muttered.

They found Leah slumped in the doorway, one arm draped around Naomi, who seemed sober enough, and, Iris noted, not terribly surprised by what had just unfolded.

“Are you all right?” Iris asked them.

“Yeah,” Naomi said, brushing the hair out of Leah's face as she propped her up. “But I think this one's done for the night.” She exchanged a knowing look with Cooper. “Just like old times,” she said, shaking her head.

“Can we go now?” Cooper asked Leah gently.

“You're gonna break a leg in these,” he said, bending to unbuckle one of her shoes. Iris observed the way he took Leah's feet in hand and carefully slid the heels from her bare feet. The gesture was almost too intimate, and she looked away.

“Geez,” Trish said, coming up behind them. “I swear, you call home for a second and you miss all the good stuff. What just happened?”

Iris shook her head. “Leah.”

“Well, if you can get Miss Dancing Feet in my car, I'll drive you kids home,” Trish said. Before Iris could answer, Cooper scooped Leah up in his arms like a small child.

Outside in the parking lot, Trish held the car door open and Naomi and Cooper settled Leah onto the backseat. “I'm getting too old for this,” Naomi joked.

Iris leaned into the backseat, cupping Leah's chin. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Cooper doesn't mind. He's used to it.” Which only confirmed that old feeling creeping up on Iris from the past. She was still the older sister, the more sensible one. But not necessarily the more desirable one.

Cooper was waiting by his truck. “You girls okay to get home?”

“Listen, I'm sorry about all that,” Iris said, feeling awkward. Under the streetlamp she could see that his hair was rumpled. She wondered for a fleeting second if he looked that good in the morning. She bet he did.

“It's not your fault,” Cooper said. “I didn't want it to go that way. I didn't realize the guy would be such a jerk.” He gave the others a quick wave, before climbing in his truck. “Drive home safely.”

Iris watched in dismay as he pulled away, the distance growing between them.

•    •    •

Back home in her bed, she replayed the night again and again. The warmth of Cooper's knee pressed against her own beneath the picnic table. The speed with which he stood and approached the dance floor and walked away from her. All of it swirling in her head, until she thought she'd never sleep. Which was probably just as well. She couldn't wait until tomorrow, when she and Cooper would climb into his truck and head to Vermont. When she could put words to the questions that stirred inside her. She just hoped she had the stomach for the answers, whatever they might be.

Fifteen

T
he damn bridesmaid dresses were in. Which meant Iris had to give up her much-anticipated morning in the barn.

“Honestly, Iris, you'd think we were dragging you off by your hair to be tortured. It won't take long,” Millie said. Iris barely touched her food, but Leah miraculously managed to shovel in large mouthfuls of eggs. With ketchup. Eyes bright and cheeks flushed, she showed no residue of the excesses of the night before, and Iris wondered at her sister's speedy recovery, and waited to see if an explanation, or at least an apology, might be offered. Neither was.

Walking into Miss Patty's dress shop was like déjà vu, only in reverse. This time Leah plopped herself on the peach settee to await the great unveiling, and Iris was sequestered to the fitting room.

Iris sighed as the salesgirl hung up a plastic garment bag. She wondered what time Cooper would be arriving at the farm. The hairs on her arms lifted, just imagining herself seated beside him in the cab of the truck. She'd left a note for him in the barn, just in case she was late.

“Here you go,” the salesgirl said. She unzipped the bag with a dramatic
whoosh
.

Iris, who'd kicked off her jeans, turned reluctantly to survey the damage. The dress was a deep shade of purple.
Eggplant
, Leah had called it.

“Arms up,” the girl ordered, and Iris obeyed as the dress was slipped over her head, thinking that “Stick 'em up” might be more appropriate.

Purple was not her friend. In Iris's experience purple was the color sure to bring out the blotchiness in her fair complexion, or illuminate the tired shadows beneath her blue eyes. She turned left, then right, allowing herself to be tugged and fitted in the slippery fabric.
Whoosh
went the zipper again.

“There you go!”

Iris opened her eyes. She'd been right about the color. But so wrong about the effect.

“My, my,” the salesgirl said.

Iris took a deep breath. Who was this woman in the mirror? Somehow Iris hadn't noticed the new caramel color of her skin, from all the hours outdoors. Or the golden highlights in her hair. She grinned, noting for the first time the toned muscles of her upper arms. How had all of this escaped her?

“Well?” Millie breathed audibly on the other side of the curtain, and for once, it was Iris who eagerly swept it aside for the revelation. “Iris. Look at you!”

Miss Patty and Millie launched forward for inspection.

Leah, who was deep in conversation on her cell, peered around them to see what the fuss was about. Her eyes roamed up and down Iris. “Well.”

“I know!” Iris beamed. She couldn't help it. She'd not felt this good in a long time. Ever, perhaps. She turned to the mirror, admiring the low-cut drape in the back. It hugged her in all the right places, if she did say so herself.

Patty grabbed a fistful of fabric at the waist. “This'll have to be taken in. You're clearly not a size six. Maybe a four. Maybe even a two?”

“Two?” Iris shrieked.

“The magic of farmwork,” Millie said, as if she'd been awaiting this transformation all along. But there was genuine pleasure in her voice. “Do you like it, dear?”

I'm never taking it off
, Iris wanted to cry out. But behind them all, something about Leah's expression reined her in. “You chose great,” Iris told her sister. “I love it.”

As Vera, the seamstress, was summoned once more, Iris inspected herself shamelessly. She'd known she'd slimmed down. But initially it had been a loss of more than just weight, leaving her pale and loose with sadness. Now, the sun and lake had worked within her. There was nothing shrunken or defeated about the woman in the mirror, and something inside her stirred with that bright realization.

Returning them all to business, Leah was brusque in her directions. “The other bridesmaids will be arriving next week,” she told Patty, ticking through the list on her phone. “I'll call to schedule fittings.” She turned to Iris, impatience furrowing her brow. “And don't forget to schedule your makeup and hair consult. I asked you to do that last week.”

But Iris was preoccupied. She didn't even flinch when Vera's needle poked right through the fabric and into her thigh. She had an electrifying urge to try on a pair of skinny jeans. But Leah interrupted it.

“Please don't dawdle,” she told them, throwing her purse over her shoulder and glancing briskly at her watch. “I'll wait for you at the café.”

“What's the hurry?” Millie inquired. But Leah was already striding toward the door.

“Grump,” Iris muttered loud enough for her mother to hear.

Who surprisingly did not argue, for once.

Back in the dressing room, Iris reluctantly shed her dress. Who knew self-confidence came in eggplant? And just in time for her trip to Vermont with Cooper. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face.

Outside, despite the early morning hour, the streets were already clogged with weekenders flocking into town. “Shall we hit a few shops?” Iris asked. Cooper had said they'd be leaving sometime after lunch. There was still time.

Millie raised her eyebrows. It was an invitation neither had extended to the other all summer, until now. And shopping had always been her sport, not Iris's. “Why, I'd love to!” She glanced around. “But we should probably find your sister first.”

Leah was at a small outdoor table in front of Trish's café, staring glumly into a coffee cup. She made a point of looking at her watch as they approached. “Finally. Let's go home.”

“But we just got here. Besides, I want to say hi to Trish.”

“She's not in today.”

Iris narrowed her eyes. “She's probably still recovering from last night.”

“I'm going to grab a quick tea,” Millie said, oblivious to the glares exchanged between her daughters. “Iris, tell her about our shopping plans. This'll be such fun!”

The second the café door shut, Iris plunked herself in the chair across from Leah. Enough was enough. “What's your problem?”

“Nothing. I just want to get back to the farm.”

“Like what?”

Leah drummed her fingers noisily on the café table, her nails clicking as quickly as her words. “Like final head counts. And menu changes. Not that it applies to you,” she added curtly. “Since you're so occupied with the barn these days.”

Iris reached across the table, covering Leah's nervous fingers with her own. “Why are you so mad?”

“I'm not.” Leah lifted one shoulder. “I'm just edgy.

“Is that what we're going to call last night?
Edgy?
”

“Look, I was just blowing off some steam. No big deal.”

“Oh, really? Dancing with strange guys, starting drunken fights. Would Stephen call that ‘no big deal'?”

Leah blanched. “Last night had nothing to do with Stephen.”

“Good. Then tell me what it was about. Because I'm dying here, trying to figure all this out.”

The door to the café opened, and Millie emerged with two cups of tea. “So are we ready to hit the shops?”

When neither girl answered, she set the cups down, glancing from face to face. “Did I miss something?”

“No!” they chirped in unison.

“I need to get back home,” Leah said, standing quickly.

“And I need to get back to the barn,” Iris added. She was too annoyed to shop now.

Millie deflated like a balloon. “But I thought we were shopping.”

Before Iris could think of an excuse, Leah's phone rang.

Her face fell as soon as she took the call. “Oh my God.”

Millie placed a hand over her chest. “What is it, dear? Is everything okay?”

Leah shook her head gravely. “When did this happen?” she cried into her phone. “Are you sure?”

“What?” Millie pressed. “Is it Stephen?”

Leah waved her away. “I can't believe this.”

Iris and Millie stood frozen. Finally Leah set down her phone, tears in her eyes. “That was Tika,” she informed them gravely. “The linen rentals are all messed up. And now there's an issue with the flowers.”

Millie exhaled with relief.

But Iris was not having it; she slapped a hand on the table. “Seriously? All that was just about wedding arrangements?”

Leah scowled. “
Just?
Do you realize the flower arrangements aren't confirmed? And I just found out that the silk tablecloths don't come in persimmon. Only in cranberry!” At that, she burst into tears.

Which only made Millie look like she might do the same. “Oh, honey.”

Iris coughed into her hand.
Persimmon?

But Leah was not letting up. “Everything's ruined.” She was crying openly now. People at adjacent tables began to stare.

“Calm down, darling, we'll figure it out,” Millie promised.

She did not object as Leah reached into her purse and produced a bottle of pills.

Here we go
, Iris thought. But as Leah popped one pill, then another, and threw them back with a sip of their mother's tea, Iris realized Leah's affected response was real. Over-the-top, but real nonetheless.

“Look, let me help,” Iris offered. “I can make those calls for you. Find pomegranate tablecloths, whatever you need.”

“Persimmon,” Leah corrected her.

Millie beamed. “You'd do that?”

Iris shrugged. “Why not?” How long could it take to locate a persimmon tablecloth?

By the time Millie drove them home, Leah's mood had transformed. She'd scrolled through copious wedding lists on her iPhone. Unfazed, she unloaded all of it on Iris, who'd given up, eventually handing over her own phone for Leah to sync.

“But isn't Tika taking care of these things?” Millie asked, echoing Iris's silent SOS calls from the backseat.

“Well, technically,” Leah allowed. “But I'm not trusting every detail to a stranger.” She said this last word as if Tika were a denizen of the streets, and not the Jimmy Choo–wearing, manicured event planner she'd negotiated around a six-month waiting list to retain.

Back at the house, Leah led Iris to her room, where she loaded her arms with folders, a few books, and several dog-eared magazines. “Is this required reading?” Iris joked.

Leah did not smile. “The linen information is in the red folder.”

“You mean persimmon,” Iris quipped.

Leah ignored this. “Along with the favors, which are in the green folder.” She paused, thinking. “Oh, and if you could also confirm the wedding party bouquets with the florist, that'd be great.” She pointed a manicured finger at a purple folder.

“Great,” Iris echoed, wondering suddenly why on earth she'd offered to help.

Iris had just staggered out the door with her armload when Leah suddenly halted her. “Wait. This is your room. Why don't you leave that stuff here, and I'll move back across the hall to my old room?”

“Really?” Iris brightened. She'd been pining for her own bedroom with its view of the lake, and her childhood cabbage-rose wallpaper. Her little haven.

“Why not? Stephen's back in Seattle. Besides, it'll be just like when we were little.” Leah hugged Iris hard. “I can't tell you how much this means to me. Having you here, doing all this.” And there it was again: the surge of light in Leah's expression that filled the room, making Iris feel guilty for ever complaining.

•    •    •

But it didn't last. By lunchtime, any trace of sisterly guilt was long eradicated. Iris lay her throbbing head on the cool marble surface of the kitchen island, surrounded by Leah's stacks of binders and hand-scrawled notes. Where was Cooper?

“Everything all right?” Millie asked. She'd been out with the dogs, whom she now closed off in the mudroom. Templeton, the only one allowed free range of the house, trotted in at her heels and made a beeline for Iris.

Iris groaned. “Did you know that Tika has already confirmed all of these appointments? The hair salon, the nail parlor, the bridesmaid breakfast? All of it has already been done. Twice!” Tika, Leah's wedding planner. The
real
wedding planner, whose flustered assistant had just called Iris to tell her with strained politeness that she was very nice to be making all of these calls. But to please
stop.

“Well, maybe Leah just wanted to be thorough. You know how she is.”

Iris eyed Millie, who bent to scratch Templeton's wiry tummy. The little dog closed his eyes in a contended stupor. “Are we talking about the same person?”

“She's nervous, Iris. It's her big day.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I'm done for today. And for the record, they've already filled her linen order in persimmon. So, what was all
that
about?”

Millie shrugged. “Just an oversight, I guess.”

Iris cleared her throat. “Among many. Perhaps I should check in with Her Highness, and give her the official update. Where is she, anyway?”

Millie glanced out the window. “Oh, she won't be back until later tonight.”

“Where'd she go?”

Millie hesitated. “Didn't you know? She went to Vermont.”

“Vermont?” A coppery taste rose up in Iris's mouth, and she swallowed hard, trying to squelch it.

“Yes. With Cooper.” Millie picked up Templeton. “You remember the lumber run he had to make? Your father's out on the lake with Morris, from next door. And I couldn't very well leave the farm stand unattended. So Leah volunteered to go along with Cooper.”

“Oh, she volunteered, did she?” Iris slapped the wedding binder shut.

Just then, the mudroom door flung open. Bill strolled in with a bucket of fish, which he set down abruptly upon seeing their faces.

“What's wrong?”

But Millie had her own questions. “What are you so upset about, Iris?” Her voice was high, suspicious.