The Lake Season (19 page)

Nineteen

B
y the end of the day, Iris was exhausted, though it was more from her worries than the work. She'd managed to get through the afternoon with Cooper, who behaved, oddly enough, as if nothing had happened. He was his usual friendly self, but it was precisely the “usual” part that bothered her. Had he changed his mind?

She needn't have worked herself up, however. As they were cleaning up, Cooper leaned against the bed of the truck and regarded her carefully.

“What?” She pushed her hair away from her face, suddenly conscious of how dusty and sweaty she must be. It was a far cry from her carefully constructed appearance the night before. No heels or lipstick today.

“Nothing,” he said. But his boyish grin said otherwise. How was it that a thirty-nine-year-old man could still match his yearbook photo so closely? “Want to go for a swim?”

“Here?” Iris glanced nervously down the hill at the house, wondering what the others were doing, and what they'd think if she were to race down to the water's edge and jump in with Cooper. It was exactly what she wanted to do.

“Here. Or over at the cove, if you'd rather.”

Iris hadn't been to the cove in years. No more than a sandy spit, the legendary local spot stretched around the corner from the town boatyard and followed the tree-lined shore where the lake was wider and deeper. A favorite teenage hangout, it boasted some of the highest cliffs on the lake and a rope swing that both Iris and Leah had spent plenty of time on as kids.

“The cove,” she said, a rush of excitement filling her chest. “Let me run down to the house for my suit.”

•    •    •

It was just a swim on a hot day, she told herself as she rummaged quickly through her dresser. The faded red swimsuit was not going to work. She had a navy-blue tank she'd brought from home, but standing before the mirror, she wondered what she'd been thinking. It was something Millie would wear. Frantically she tore through her drawer, realizing she had nothing.

Somebody else did, though. Iris ducked across the hall into Leah's room. She tripped over a pair of Stephen's loafers and headed for the closet. This was no different from Leah “borrowing” her new black sandals, right? Two drawers down she hit the jackpot. She pulled out the red bikini top that Leah had worn on Cooper's tailgate that afternoon. Disgusted, she flung it behind her onto the carpet. There was another bikini, a black string, she realized to her dismay. Leah had no kids; her taut belly told a different story than Iris's.

Finally she laid her hands on a chocolate tankini. A toss-up. The bottoms had high openings, which made Iris cringe. She really should've kept up with that damn spinning class back at home. Nonetheless, she tucked the stolen suit under her arm.

The cove seemed smaller. It still surprised Iris how things that had once seemed so big to her, as a child, were actually not. As if reading her mind, Cooper echoed her sentiments. “The rope swing doesn't seem so ominous now, does it?”

Iris glanced down the shoreline at the cliffs that rose suddenly from the water's edge. “No,” she lied. “Not nearly as impressive.” There was no way she would consider attempting those rocks now. Motherhood had a way of ruining the prospect of anything remotely risky. Horseback riding equaled head injuries. Skiing summoned images of an orthopedics office. Which meant rope swings off thirty-foot ledges promised certain death.

“Let's go,” Cooper said before she could calculate the drop from the highest rock.

“Now? We could go for a walk first.” But Cooper had already shed his T-shirt and was trotting down to the water. “Wait!” she called after him.

The first steps were colder than the shallow strip of lake near her parents' house, and Iris froze midcalf, which was probably an unfortunate look. She'd hoped to get underwater before Cooper turned around.

“Come on!” he called.

Iris balked. She looked down, sucking in her stomach where the tankini rode up over her belly button. At least her bottom wasn't hanging out of the back end, she was pleased to note.

In one swift dive she went under, feeling strong and sure of her stroke. In no time she caught up. “Good form,” Cooper called out. Which gave her another rush of adrenaline that sustained her all the way along the shore to the rope swing area.

Here, they strode out of the water and up the pebbly shore. Cooper reached the base of the boulders first and began climbing, looking back to check on her. The gray rocks were large and smooth, and fairly easy to climb. At the midpoint, Cooper reached a hand out to her. Iris took it, touching him for the first time all day, and allowed him to pull her up. “It's not much farther,” he puffed. She shadowed his ascent, watching the muscles of his brown back.

Soon they were at the top, with a cluster of scraggly pine trees behind them, and the wide blue surface of lake and sky stretching out before them. “It's still fairly ominous,” she whispered, crouching on the ledge, and Cooper laughed, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“We don't have to jump,” he said. “I just thought it'd be nice to take in the view.”

Iris sat, pulling her knees to her chest, and Cooper plopped down beside her. His hair stuck up in wet spikes, and he ran his hand through it in a way that made Iris's heart ache. She shivered.

“You cold?”

“No,” she said through chattering teeth. The sun was low in the sky and there was a light breeze picking up over the rocks.

“Here.” He wrapped his arm around her, loosely, and she leaned into him, tingling at the press of their warm skin beneath the sheen of lake water.

“Better?” he asked, and she nodded, closing her eyes for a moment.

“So, the wedding's coming up soon, huh?”

The wedding. It wasn't what Iris wanted to talk about up here. Not with Cooper, not with all the rest that rolled uneasily in her mind.

“Is Leah nervous?” he asked.

Iris looked at him out of the corner of her eye. At Cooper's strong profile, his nose, which had the tiniest bump in the center, an old sports injury she found handsome. Why was he asking about her sister?

“I don't know,” she said honestly. “Probably.”

She felt his eyes on her. “You guys aren't that close, are you?”

“No,” she admitted. “We used to be, I think, but I can't remember when, to be honest.” Here was Leah, up on the rocks with them. But instead of pushing her away, Iris seized the moment.

“What about you guys?” she asked, her stomach flip-flopping as she said it.

“What do you mean?”

Iris swallowed. “You and Leah. You seem close, sometimes. Like you get each other.”

She waited while Cooper considered it, wondering if she'd crossed a line. But she'd crossed so many lately.

“I guess we were sort of close,” he said finally. “Last summer.” Iris tipped her chin back, facing the breeze that had picked up over the rocks. Here it was.

“I came home around the same time she did, and we sort of ran into each other a few times.” He looked over at her. “But it was no big deal. Not like we dated or anything.”

For the first time Iris turned to face him. “Really?”

He nodded, his eyes as blue as the water and sky around them, and suddenly Iris felt dizzy with relief. He laughed lightly. “Were you worried?” he asked. “That it was more?”

Iris shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. “Not my business,” she said quickly. “But you two just seemed to have a connection. The way you talked. And that time at the bar, when she was so drunk and you stepped in.”

Cooper nodded. “I guess we do. Or did, at least. When I first came back to town, I was pretty lost. Sherry and I had just divorced. I'd sold my house, and left my business. It was the worst kind of way to come home, you know?”

Iris nodded. Boy, did she.

“And then I saw your sister at the farm stand one day. She was home, like me, and starting up this new business with your folks, and every time I came by she just sort of cheered me up. You know how Leah is.”

“Yeah, she has that effect.”

“So I invited her out on my dad's boat.”

Iris listened as Cooper told her about the outings on the lake with Naomi and some of the other farm help. She'd been right about them hanging out. But it still didn't add up.

“So, if you don't mind me asking, why didn't you guys ever get together?”

Cooper looked out at the water. “It wasn't like that. I was just starting over. Besides, it wasn't long after when things really fell apart.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the breakdown.”

Iris turned sharply. “What breakdown?”

Cooper met her gaze, his eyes narrowing. “You didn't know?”

Iris shook her head, a sense of sudden dread filling her stomach. Had Cooper had some kind of breakdown after his divorce? An instant rush of pity ran through her, followed by a wave of dread. She didn't want to feel pity for Cooper. It was selfish of her, yes. But right now she needed him to be the rock he seemed to be.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't know you went through that.”

Cooper shook his head. “Not me. Your sister. Leah.”

Iris choked, a small laugh growing in her throat. “Wait. You're telling me that Leah had a nervous breakdown?”

Cooper studied her curiously. “I wouldn't joke about something like that, Iris. It was pretty bad.”

Iris shook her head. “Leah can be sort of emotional, you know? She's been all over the map, so to speak, all her life. You just don't know her that well.”

Cooper turned to her, his brow furrowed. “Iris, this wasn't any small thing. She was admitted to New Hampshire Hospital. Under an IEA. Didn't you know?”

New Hampshire Hospital was a psych facility. A small throb began at the edge of Iris's brain. “IEA?”

Cooper's voice softened. “Yeah. When someone is admitted against their will for their own protection.”

“Are you saying Leah was suicidal?”

“I don't know. But she was in bad shape. She stayed in the hospital for a couple of weeks. I didn't see her again until ­August.”

Despite the cool wind, Iris felt choked for air. “No one told me anything about this.” But deep down, Iris had known something was wrong, and the guilt hit her in the stomach. She'd watched Leah pop pills all summer. Hell, she'd even confronted Millie about it. But her mother had blamed it on wedding jitters—no big deal. After all, Leah was prone to anxiety and bouts of mood swings. And, selfishly, Iris had been too distracted with her own troubles to press it further.

Cooper looked at her empathetically. “Well, your mother knows. And Naomi.” And with that the pieces began to fit. Naomi's closeness with Leah. The comments she'd made that first morning Iris arrived at the farm: “She's better now.” The shared looks of concern between Naomi and Millie at the breakfast table. They'd been through something together. Over Leah. Something Iris had not.

Iris had been kept in the dark. She could've been there for her younger sister. She could've helped. A mix of anger and worry fueled her and she hopped up from the rock. “I have to go.”

Cooper leaped up. “Iris, wait.”

Quickly she climbed down the rocks, holding on to the edges of the large boulders as she scrambled down. “I need to get home.”

“What for?”

She'd reached the bottom, where the water lapped at the rocks, and the stone surfaces were slippery with moss.

“Careful!” Cooper warned as she nearly slid into the lake. But she caught her balance, pulling her arm away just as he reached for it.

“I'm fine,” she said angrily.

The sky overhead was rich with purple and orange, dappling the lake like stained glass. She waded out and dove under, her ears ringing as she swam back toward the beach.

Behind her Cooper was saying something she could not hear. Slicing with her arms, she paddled faster, moving away from him. Her only sister had suffered something life changing but the family had kept her out of it. Even Cooper Woods knew. It was a betrayal that cut as viscerally as her body did through the water. The thought consumed her until she caught a mouthful of water and began to choke.

“Iris!” Cooper swam up behind her, reaching out with one hand.

She splashed at him, warning him away. But when she couldn't stop coughing, she panicked and began to flail.

“It's okay, I've got you.”

And before she could object, Cooper's arm encircled her waist. She found herself on her back, looking up at the sky as he stroked with his free arm, pulling them both to shore. Overhead the sky burned redder than any Iris had ever seen before.

•    •    •

Cooper made a small fire on the beach with some scrap wood from the back of his truck and pine branches from the cedars along the shore. Iris huddled under a blanket he'd found in the cab, staring at the embers. She was too drained to object.

“Thirsty?” he asked, holding out a canteen of water in one hand and a beer in the other. Iris pointed to the beer, then pressed the bottle to her lips, letting the grainy liquid suffuse the bad taste in her mouth.

“Can I get you something else?”

Iris shook her head. She felt sick.

Cooper settled beside her and twisted the top off his own beer. When her bottle was empty she set it on the rocks beside her and turned to him.

“Let me get this straight. Leah had a nervous breakdown last summer. And you've known about it all this time?”

Cooper met her gaze warily. “Only because I happened to be there when it all went down. Iris, I thought you knew.”

She shook her head slowly. “Tell me everything.”

Cooper let his breath out. Clearly this was uneasy territory for him. “We'd spent a few weekends hanging out last summer, going out on the lake and that sort of thing. But then Leah sort of disappeared. Didn't leave the farm much anymore, didn't return calls.”