The Lake Season (13 page)

“I had no idea you were so interested in carpentry,” Leah said flatly.

“The beams look marvelous,” Bill continued. “I'm glad you talked me into those salvaged pieces from Vermont. Made all the difference.”

Iris watched the care Cooper took to arrange his sandwich. For a man who worked carpentry, his hands looked soft, his nails spotless. “That barn's almost two hundred years old. It needs history, to go along with its own.”

“Well said.” Bill chewed thoughtfully. “I think I'll walk up with you after lunch. I want to start thinking about doing the smokehouse next.”

Iris smiled. So, Bill had more restoration work in mind. Cooper would be staying on longer. Millie looked firmly at Bill. “But I thought we were saving the smokehouse for next year.”

Bill shook his head. “If Cooper can get the materials from that site in Vermont, we need to move forward. Do you think you can get your hands on more chestnut?”

Again, Iris could feel her mother's gaze. “But we're so busy at the moment,” Millie interjected. “With the wedding and all . . .” Her voice trailed, and she looked to Leah, who hadn't even touched her lunch.

“I'm going up there next week,” Cooper told him. “I'll check the inventory if you'd like.” He turned to Iris. “I've got a little cabin in Stowe.”

“Really? Sounds like a nice getaway spot.” How fitting; woodsy Cooper living on the lake in New Hampshire, traveling to Vermont for rustic weekend getaways. The images unfolded in Iris's mind like a glossy travel brochure.

“Get an estimate and let me know,” Bill said, standing. “I'd love to finish these renovations.”

When Bill and Millie finally excused themselves to clear the table, the three were left alone.

“That's great news about your wedding,” Cooper said.

“You should come,” Leah said quickly. She ran her hand through her hair and looked at him sideways. “You'll know a lot of the guests from town. Plus, we've got a great band.” And there it was again, her flirtatious ease.

Iris held her tongue. Why was Leah acting as if the wedding were just a casual barbecue? Even a man would know that the invitations must have gone out weeks ago, and that the table settings would be finalized. What was Leah doing?

Cooper must've realized it, too. “It's real nice of you to offer, but you don't have to. In fact, I may be up at the cabin that weekend.”

But Leah either didn't notice the look on Iris's face, or ignored it. “I'm the bride. I insist.”

“Well, in that case, thank you. I'll dust off one of my suits.” He glanced at his watch. “I'd best get back to work. Can I help clean up here?”

“Go ahead,” Iris urged. “I'll meet you back at the barn.”

No sooner had he left than Leah cornered Iris in the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

Millie stood behind them at the sink, scraping plates. Iris knew she was listening.

“It's just weird. You're spending all this time in the barn with the hired help.”

Iris met her gaze. “Hired help? What, are you an aristocrat now?”

“You know what I mean.”

Iris had never heard Leah make such an unflattering reference. Sure, their family was accustomed to a certain lifestyle. But this was about something else.

Iris glanced at her mother, who was making no attempt to hide the fact that she was hanging on every word.

Leah strode to the mudroom and pulled on her boots, tightening the laces with quick, angry tugs.

Why should Leah care how she spent her time?

Leah stood abruptly. “Mom, I'm heading back to the farm stand. Naomi's going to need more berry containers. Did you unpack that order yet?”

Millie nodded solemnly from her post at the counter. “I'll bring some up.”

Iris watched Leah pause at the washroom sink. She pulled a small bottle from her jeans pocket and tipped two yellow pills into her palm. “What are those?” she asked as Leah scooped a handful of water into her mouth.

“Vitamins,” Leah snapped.

Vitamins, my ass
, Iris thought. The mudroom door slammed loudly, and Leah was gone.

“What is her problem?” Iris asked, tossing the dish towel she'd been holding onto the counter. There was nothing wrong about helping Cooper with the barn. It was no different from the work Leah herself was doing in the fields. Would they rather she sulked around the house, or lay in bed all day?

Through the kitchen window she could see Cooper getting something out of his truck in the distance. “I'm going back up to the barn.”

Millie kept her eyes trained on the dishes.

Iris was halfway out the door when her mother's voice stopped her. It was soft, and Iris hesitated a moment before she was sure she'd heard right.

“Be careful, dear.”

Fourteen

T
here was nothing careful about the way she looked.

It was Friday night, and Iris had called Trish and asked her for a drink. Demanded was more like it. Beforehand, she'd hurried into town, hitting a few of the trendier boutiques on Railroad Street before she found what she was looking for. A black one-shouldered top, simple and sexy at once. While she was there she figured she might as well splurge on a new pair of jeans. Her old ones were baggy in the rear now, and she was finished with the drab, shapeless items she'd hurriedly packed from home, which she now referred to as her mourning clothes. Which meant, of course, that she needed a new pair of shoes—in a style decidedly unsensible. She'd found them, in a pair of strappy black sandals that made her toes throb but her calf muscles flash. And a pair of open-toed cream wedges that added at least three inches to her height. She'd charged all of it, tossing a pink scarf on the counter at the last second. Let Paul worry about the bill.

When she came downstairs that night, Bill looked up from his wing chair and smiled. “Well, look at you.”

Leah, who was curled up on the couch with the TV remote, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Where are you going?”

“Down to the Dock, with Trish. Want to come?” She was determined not to argue with her sister. But Iris bit her lip the second the words came out. This was her night.

Leah shook her head, sinking back into the cushions. “Stephen's supposed to call. And I'm tired, anyway.”

Relieved, Iris checked her reflection in the hall mirror. A quick coat of lipstick, and she was ready. As she sailed through the kitchen, she almost ran into her mother.

“Iris?”

Millie blinked several times in the bright light, trying to reconcile the outfit, the styled hair, and the makeup with her eldest daughter. “It's late. Where are you going?”

But Iris wasn't about to get bogged down by questions. She was forty years old, for God's sake. “Out. See you later!” she called as the door slammed matter-of-factly behind her.

•    •    •

At nine o'clock the Dock was already crowded, a mixed group of post-college kids and middle-aged patrons, the latter of whom, Iris realized with dread, she now belonged to. The lakeside restaurant housed an outdoor patio bar and was a popular seasonal spot. She eyed the younger women warily, their tanned brows unfurrowed by sleepless nights, their slender physiques unmarked by motherhood. Funny how her age never really occurred to her, until she was confronted by twentysomethings with bare midriffs. But the boisterous atmosphere had not changed, and as she and Trish took a deck table by the water, she soon felt young enough again. “You look hot tonight,” Trish said.

“Thanks.” Iris crossed her legs and admired the way her polished toes peeked from her wedge heels. “I took your advice and went shopping.”

Trish lifted her beer. “See what a little retail therapy can do?” She ran a hand through her hair. “Wish I'd had the energy to dress up a bit more. I still have cake batter in my hair.”

Iris laughed. “Rough day at work?”

Trish forced a smile. “One of the ovens broke, so we were behind on the baking. And on a day when we had a large order from a local caterer. I had to talk her into changing the menu.”

Iris winced sympathetically. “You always throw together the best food at the last minute. I don't know how you do it.”

Trish shrugged. “It worked out.”

Which gave Iris a wild idea, one that she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of before. “Hey, have you ever thought of doing a cookbook?”

Trish took a swig from her beer. “We put out a holiday book each year, for the chamber of commerce.”

Iris shook her head. “No, I mean a published cookbook that's all your own.”

“Are you kidding? I own a café; I'm not a chef.”

“But you are, in the most real sense. You're a working mom and a business owner. Your schedule is crazy, so you have to come up with good food fast. Believe me, I'd kill for some of your ideas on a Wednesday night after soccer practice.”

Trish laughed, shaking her head. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. But I can't imagine anybody buying a book of recipes that ordinary.”

“That's exactly why they'd buy it! Who has time for handmade ravioli? Bread salad with garden vegetables is exactly what we need. With some of that sesame chicken you do.” The more Iris thought about it, the more excited she got. Here was the culinary talent she needed for her cookbook idea. And in the same package as an old friend!

“I don't know,” Trish said, rolling the idea around in her head. “I've never considered it, to be honest.”

“Well, you should. We both should. Seriously, we could write this thing, together.”

Iris ordered them another round. It took some convincing, but whether it was the beer or Iris's persistence, she could tell Trish was warming up to the idea. Iris had just begun explaining how they could propose their ideas to a publisher when Trish reached across the table.

“Don't look now, but somebody just sauntered in.”

Iris glanced over her shoulder at the growing crowd on the upper deck.

“At the bar.” Trish pointed.

It was Leah in a short white dress, her brown legs dazzling in a pair of strappy black sandals. Hardly a staying-in-for-the-night outfit.

“Hey, those are my new shoes!” Iris sputtered.

“Hate to say it, but she's doing them justice.”

Iris scowled. “It's a bit much for the Dock, wouldn't you say?”

They watched as Leah ordered a drink, laughing animatedly at something the young bartender said. When she turned in their direction Iris motioned her over. But instead of joining them, Leah threw Iris a coy wink before disappearing quickly into the crowd.

“That brat. Did she just ditch us?” Iris asked.

Trish stood, scanning the crowd for a better look. “More important, who is she here with?”

Iris scoffed. “This is so like her. Moping at home in sweatpants, then popping up like Cinderella. Did I tell you about the other day with Cooper?”

Trish brightened. “What about him?”

“Well, I've sort of been helping him out. You know, with the barn.”

Now Trish covered her mouth in a poor attempt to conceal her surprise. “You? Working in a barn?”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, who knew that clumsy Iris could manage a hammer? Can we get on with it now?”

Trish nodded, suppressing her laughter.

“So, I went up to the barn one day, and we sort of got talking. He showed me what he was working on, and I don't know . . . I just felt like I belonged there.”

Trish raised her eyebrows. “In the barn. Or with Cooper?”

Iris grinned sheepishly. “Maybe both?”

“Ah. Now we're talking.”

“No, no, it's not like that, I swear. It's something about the work. Something about waking up early and knowing what I'm going to do with myself. Knowing that someone is depending on me.” She looked up. “And that I can do it.”

Trish's expression softened. She nodded knowingly. “Like I feel in my kitchen.”

“Exactly.” Iris was relieved. She'd feared saying it out loud, but Trish understood.

“Though the company doesn't exactly hurt,” Trish added, eyebrows raised playfully.

Iris grinned. “I'm not blind.”

“So what's the problem, then?”

“Leah. I asked Cooper to come down to the house for lunch yesterday. No big deal, right? And she sort of freaked out. She accused me of ‘fraternizing with the help.' Like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Wrong in regard to your marriage?”

Iris shook her head. “To her.”

Trish considered this. “You know, I didn't see much of Leah outside of the farm last summer. But there was one time, I saw them at the lake together.”

Iris felt her body stiffen. “You mean Leah and Cooper?”

Trish nodded. “Down at the town pier. It must've been the Fourth of July, because we'd gone down to see the fireworks. And they were there, getting out of his boat.”

“Just the two of them?”

Trish grimaced. “Yeah, I think so.”

Iris pressed a hand to her temple. “As in together.” She knew it shouldn't bother her. But it did.

“I don't know that for sure. But I remember it got my attention; they just seemed sort of close.”

“Huh.” Iris sat back, suddenly deflated. If that's how it was, it certainly explained things.

“It was over a year ago,” Trish said hurriedly. “And it may have been nothing. Besides, you know how my memory is. Mommy mush.”

“No, no, it's no big deal. It's not like I'm interested in Cooper Woods.”

“And Leah's got Stephen now,” Trish added quickly, as though Leah were all that stood between Iris and a high school crush, leaving out Paul, and her kids, and the glaring black question mark of her marriage.

Iris waved her hand. “Trish, really. I have no say in what either of them does, or did last year. I'm not in a position to have an opinion anyway.” Iris said the words, but she didn't believe them any more than she could tell Trish did. She looked over her shoulder. Where was that waitress?

“It's okay to flirt with the guy, Iris. You're going through a crappy time.”

“It's nothing like that. Really. But I guess it explains why Leah was so weird at lunch. I just wonder why Cooper hasn't said anything about it in the barn. I mean, we're side by side for hours.”

“Ask him. Maybe there's nothing really there to tell.”

Iris swung her leg over the bench. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. “I'm going to get another beer.”

Trish held up her empty bottle. “Make it two.”

At the bar Iris tried to wrap her head around what Trish had told her. So, Cooper and Leah had hung out together, whatever that meant. And neither had told her about it. Though it wasn't any of her business, she reasoned. Besides, it was over a year ago. Leah was engaged now, and in love with someone else. And Cooper, well, who could tell? He could be out on a date with someone else right now, for all Iris knew.

She threw down a ten-dollar bill for the bartender and grabbed their beers just as the band started up. It was a local group that she suddenly recognized from years ago, and she paused to let the music wash over her. But there was Leah on the dance floor, turning and laughing in Iris's new heels. Iris watched as Leah and Naomi secured their places in the center. Off the farm Naomi was nearly unrecognizable, her skirt twirling about her knees, her arms glittery with bangle bracelets. But it was Leah who stole the crowd's attention, swaying her hips.

And there was that nagging feeling again, climbing in Iris's throat. That dual sense of being left out and awed at the same time. Muttering to herself, Iris turned back for her table when someone touched her arm.

“I was going to shout you a drink, but I see you already have one.” Cooper Woods stood before her in the crowd in a pressed button-down shirt. Iris couldn't help but notice the way his collar opened at the neck, and she fought the sudden urge to touch the tan skin of his collarbone.

“Hi,” she managed.

He leaned in closer. “This is a great band. You remember these guys from back in the day?”

She nodded. But she was distracted by the smell of his cologne, spicy and fresh, like new-cut grass. Something he never wore in the barn. Which only made her thoughts race:
Who is it meant for?
Followed by,
Of course the guy has a life outside the farm
. And it wasn't hers to worry about.

“I'm here with Trish,” she shouted over the music, motioning over her shoulder.

But something else had stolen his attention.

“And Leah,” she added quietly.

As Cooper's eyes rested firmly on her sister, Iris turned to go. “Guess I'll catch you later, then.” Clearly, whatever they'd had going on last summer was still permeating this one. And Iris certainly wasn't about to stand around and watch.

But when she pushed her way back to her table, Cooper was right behind her.

Struggling to contain her grin, Trish spoke first. “Hey, Coop! Have a seat.”

Iris held her breath as he slid onto the bench beside her.

As Cooper and Trish chatted, she pretended to listen.
He followed me
. She smoothed her hair and tried to look interested in the conversation, but their knees had touched under the table, and she couldn't think straight, wondering instead if he noticed. What did it mean that he hadn't pulled his knee away?

Cooper ordered another beer, and Iris felt her limbs loosening. They talked about high school, and work. Cooper didn't laugh when he told Trish that Iris was helping him in the barn. Iris had almost forgotten that Leah was there, too, but eventually the worried-older-sister urge surfaced, and she turned to scan the dance floor.

Leah was still there, only now she wasn't dancing with just Naomi. The two were surrounded by a few younger men, and Leah was getting particular attention from one who was dancing a little too closely.

“Someone's having a good time,” Trish said, and Iris watched Cooper's blue-eyed gaze move back to the dance floor.

Trish excused herself. “I'd better check in with poor Wayne. Make sure the kids haven't launched a coup.” She laughed, holding up her phone.

The relaxed ease Iris had felt left right along with Trish.

She cleared her throat. “So, no hot date tonight?”

Cooper smiled shyly. “Nah, not tonight.” And Iris raised her drink to her lips to stop herself from asking when the last one had been.

“I've been meaning to ask you something,” he said, resting his elbows on the table. “How would you like to come with me to Vermont?”

“Vermont?” She swallowed hard, trying not to choke on her beer.