The Lake Season (26 page)

“What about Mom. How much does she know?” Iris thought back to the confrontation in the kitchen, her mother's bloodied hand.

“She knows. The night it all came to a head I was out on the lake. With—”

“Cooper.” Iris said the name and her heart skipped. It had to have been the same night.

“How did you know that?” Leah sat up, about to say something more, then stopped. “Of course.”

Iris's head spun as it came together. Cooper told her about the night on the boat. But had he known more? “Wait. He never told me about your pregnancy.”

“Cooper never knew.” Leah turned to look at Iris. “And I don't want him to. Or anyone else for that matter.”

“Of course not.” But the tiny relief Iris felt over the fact that Cooper had indeed conveyed everything wasn't enough to quell the deep regret she felt for Leah. It was sad enough that she could not bear her own children. But what would that mean to Stephen?

“Dad doesn't know either. We told him I'd had some female issues and left it at that. He would've been so disappointed, you know? I made Mom promise not to tell him.”

Iris wondered at this. What did you do when your child asked you to keep a secret from your spouse? Her mother was strong, fierce even. But had Millie really kept the secret from Bill? It was ironic, when Iris thought about it. Of her two parents, Bill was the patient, forgiving one who'd always listened in earnest and responded with calm. And yet here was Millie, the parent whom Iris had always feared most about disappointing, picking up the pieces for Leah. Asking no questions, guarding her secret. “Does Mom know that you haven't told Stephen?”

“No. It was hard enough for her to deal with everything as it was. We've never discussed it since. Besides, Stephen wasn't in the picture back then. I guess she assumes that he knows now.”

Iris closed her eyes. So. At least Millie wasn't guilty of helping Leah keep the secret from Stephen. It was one thing to protect family privacy; another thing entirely to knowingly deceive. More and more, Iris was beginning to understand the gray shadows that motherhood cast.

“You have to tell him. Before the wedding, Leah. It's not too late.”

Leah's voice was small, muffled now. “I know.” Then, “Iris?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry. For everything.”

Iris placed a hand on her sister's shoulder. “Me too.”

Iris leaned against the cool headboard and closed her eyes. Was Leah right? Would she, in fact, have had the baby against all those odds? What if she had never been settled and married? Would she still have wanted a baby so badly that she'd put herself and a new child through a completely different set of struggles? She covered her face with her hands. They were impossible questions.

Leah needed her. Iris wiped her eyes and turned to her sister.

“Leah?”

Leah had rolled onto her back, her expression soft with sleep.

Iris slid beneath the covers. She watched her little sister, the images of their pasts playing over and over in her head like a reel of film.

Gently, Iris bent forward and kissed her once. Leah's forehead was damp, like her daughters' in sleep; familiar and earthy. “I forgive you,” she whispered.

She would do whatever Leah asked. Not because it was right, but because she had promised to get on board. Never mind that the train was on fire. If Leah wanted them to ride it down the tracks, so they would. Flames and all.

•    •    •

Too soon, sunlight spilled through the windows, illuminating the bedroom in a glaring light. Iris blinked, shielding her eyes. She turned over.

The other side of the bed was empty, the covers neatly tucked beneath the pillow. For a moment she wondered if she had only dreamed the previous night. She wished it were so simple.

Twenty-Seven

W
ho is that?” Lily asked.

Iris had taken the kids to work the farm stand with her on Monday morning. It was a welcome respite from the house, where Leah's confession still hovered heavily. The weight of the intimacy had left her feeling breathless, though she embraced their newfound closeness. It was a relief when she heard that Leah had gone to Brewster for the day to meet one of her other bridesmaids for lunch, leaving Iris and the kids to run the farm stand. Weekday mornings were the quietest times on the farm. Quiet aside from Lily, who'd been entertaining them with a loud rendition of “The Sound of Music,” a song she'd favored since her second-grade musical that spring.

“Damn it, Lily, you made me lose count again,” Sadie snapped.

“Language!” Iris warned, glaring at Sadie. “Since when do you talk like that?”

Jack smirked. “Since always.”

Sadie shot him a look. “Well, she never shuts up.”

“Sadie!” Iris relieved her of the bills and tucked them back into the register. She turned to Lily. “Sweetie, I love listening to you sing.”

But Lily wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were fixed on the farm driveway. “Here he comes now,” she informed them.

“
Here he comes
 . . .” Sadie mimicked under her breath.

Iris resisted the urge to poke her, offering her a warning look instead.

But it was she who needed to be poked when she looked up and realized who their first customer of the day was.

“Cooper! What are you doing here?”

“You know him?” Lily asked.

“Good morning.” Cooper smiled broadly at the kids. If he'd heard their little argument, he didn't let on.

“Kids, this is Cooper Woods. He works for your grandmother.”

“You're the barn guy,” Lily said brightly. She shook his hand vigorously, which delighted him. “I'm Lily.” She rolled her eyes. “
That's
Sadie. And that's Jack.”

Cooper extended his hand first to Jack, then to Sadie, who shook it dismissively, her attention still focused on the till. “Can I finish counting the cash now?” she groaned.

“
Later
,” Iris warned, between her teeth. She turned back to Cooper, somewhat flustered. “I'm glad you came by. How are things?”

Cooper held up a reusable cloth bag he'd filled with peppers and tomatoes. “Good. I'm having a little dinner party tonight. Figured I'd better stock up.”

Party? Iris's mind flashed. He hadn't mentioned anything about a party to her. She'd certainly received no invitation.

Lily peered into Cooper's bag, inspecting his produce with a discriminating frown. “The yellow squash is okay,” she informed him. “If you put
a lot
of butter on it. But the green squash? Gross!” She made a dramatic gagging face.

“Okay, okay,” Iris interrupted, redirecting Lily to some fruit crates that needed stacking. “So. A dinner party.”

Cooper nodded, his eyes crinkling with laughter as he watched Lily toss a crate in the air and catch it, returning to her
Sound of Music
rendition.

“What have you got on the menu for your party?” Iris blurted, trying to get his attention. Then, to her instant embarrassment, “And who's coming?”

Which got everyone's attention. It was none of her business of course.

“It's just a little barbecue for my dad. It's his birthday.”

“Oh, a birthday!” Iris sputtered. “That's great. That's just amazing.”
Amazing?
Now Sadie was staring at her.

“It's just a few neighbors stopping by. Most over the age of sixty,” he added with a smile.

“Of course.” Iris laughed, dismissing the whole thing with a futile wave of her hand. “Amazing.” There she went again.

“Why don't I ring you up?” Sadie intervened. She relieved Cooper of his bag and added up the produce authoritatively, a move so uncharacteristic it was Iris's turn to stare.

“Well, I guess I'll see you around,” he said finally. “It was nice to meet you kids.”

Iris nodded, wringing her hands. There was so much she wanted to say, but not now. Not with Sadie watching her like that.

“Wait,” Lily called after him. “Is that boat yours?”

She pointed to the boat on the trailer, hitched behind Cooper's truck. Until then, Iris hadn't even noticed.

“Yes, it is.”

“Cool. Can you take us for a ride in it?”

“Lily!” Jack scolded. But Iris could tell he was wondering the same thing.

Iris tugged gently on Lily's braid. “You can't just invite yourself on someone's boat.”

“He works here. So he's not just
someone
,” Lily said.

Oh, if you only knew, Iris thought, a sudden stab of guilt hitting her in the middle.

“It's okay,” Cooper insisted. “I like a girl with gusto.”

“Sorry,” Iris said, pulling Lily against her. “We're seven. We get ahead of ourselves sometimes.”

“Seven? That's my favorite number,” he told Lily, who'd ducked her chin in embarrassment.

Lily brightened. “Really? Mine's eleven. There's this girl in my class who has eleven cats.” She wrinkled her nose. “But eleven dogs would be way better.”

Cooper chuckled. “Well, I don't have any dogs. Or cats, for that matter. But I do have a boat. And I'd be happy to take you out on the lake. All of you,” he added, glancing over Iris's shoulder at the others.

Jack pumped the air. “Cool!”

“You really don't have to,” Iris told Cooper. This was already awkward enough, with Cooper on one side of the cash register and her kids on the other, her mother's vegetables between them. Again, Trish's words rang firmly in her ears:
There is no reason for them to interact!

But of course Cooper couldn't hear them. “It's settled. How about tomorrow?”

•    •    •

Tomorrow came too soon. Iris hurried the kids through breakfast, nervously packing totes with towels, sunscreen, and bottles of water.

“Where are you going?” Leah asked.

Iris hadn't yet figured out a way to share this bit of news. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about it herself. “Out on the lake. Cooper invited the kids on his boat.”

Leah raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

But it was Millie who verbalized Iris's most pressing thought. “Is that a good idea?”

Iris sighed, focusing on the cap of sunscreen she was struggling to open. “It's just a boat ride, Mom.”

“But, I don't think—”

They were interrupted by Sadie, who sauntered into the kitchen, causing Millie to snap her mouth shut like a small purse.

Iris swallowed.

“Where did you get that suit?”

Sadie lifted one shoulder and breezed past, pretending not to know what all the fuss was about. But there was no getting around the minuscule bathing attire in question. Sadie's black triangle bikini top looked more like two eye patches held together by a mere thread. A short canary-yellow wrap hung loosely across her rear end, which she thrust to the side as she placed a hand on her hip. “What?”

It was an invitation Iris was going to have to accept. A hush settled over the kitchen.

Leah feigned sudden interest in the newspaper.

“I think I'll hit these dishes,” Millie announced, turning abruptly to the sink, where she immersed a perfectly clean stack of plates back into the dirty water.

“Sadie.” Iris breathed evenly, trying to keep her cool. “I don't know where it came from, but there is no way you are going out in that bathing suit.”

“What's the big deal?” Sadie's eyes flashed with defiance as she reached for a coffee mug on the sideboard and dumped in the remains of the pot.

Jack strolled into the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the bowl. One look at the simmering expressions between his mother and Sadie, and he turned on his heel.

“And since when do you drink coffee?” Iris plucked the mug from her hands.

“Dad lets me!” Sadie sputtered, the little girl still in her fighting to hold back tears.

Iris gripped the cup, taking in her thirteen-year-old daughter. The trembling lips, the small bikini-clad bust. It was the most awkward of teenage stages and her heart ached for Sadie. But not enough to hand over the mug. And
certainly
not enough to bend to the bikini.

“You can drink coffee when you go to college,” Iris said ­matter-of-factly, placing the cup back on the shelf.

“Um, is there coffee in that mug?” Millie asked.

But both Iris and Sadie were too entrenched to notice. “Well, I'm not changing,” Sadie said, crossing her arms. Her expression was steel.

“Then you're not coming out on the boat.” Iris crossed her own arms, then uncrossed them. “Sadie. Honey. You look nice in the suit, but it's just not appropriate. It's too . . .”

“Slutty?”

All three women swiveled at the word.

“Sadie Marie Whiting. Don't you ever use that word.” Iris paused for effect. “And in your grandmother's house!” It was reaching, but Iris needed all the leverage she could grasp.

Sadie glanced nervously over her shoulder at Millie, as if remembering the ground she was staking was not her own. But she didn't budge.

“Now, go take that suit off!” Iris shouted.

Sadie narrowed her eyes as if she was about to say something truly hateful. Something that would lodge right in her mother's chest. Iris braced herself. But instead Sadie stormed through the kitchen and back upstairs. “Daddy let me wear it all summer!”

Iris remained in the kitchen, hands shaking. “Well, your daddy is an idiot,” she muttered.

Leah spoke first. “Well done.”

Iris swiped at her brow, which had begun to sweat.

“You had to say it,” Millie said. She handed Iris the dish towel that up until then she'd been wringing in her own hands.

Iris mopped her forehead. “Was I ever like that?” she asked, looking at Millie.

Her mother frowned, cocking her head to the side as she recalled. “No,” she said finally. She pointed to Leah. “But
you
were.”

And just like that the tension fell away. “Me?” Leah squealed, putting a hand innocently to her chest.

“Oh, please. You wore some awful things.”

“Like what?”

“Don't you remember that lace underwear set you came home with from the mall one day?” Millie asked her.

“I do not,” Leah said defiantly, but she was smiling now, too.

“I remember that!” Iris said, joining in. “It looked like something from the pages of
Playboy
.”

Millie closed her eyes, shuddering. “Red, no less.”

“Hooker red,” Iris clarified.

Leah blushed. “I don't know what you people are talking about.”

“I found it in your laundry basket,” Millie reminded her. She took a seat at the table, directly across from Leah. “You denied everything, of course.”

“Still does,” Iris said, unable to resist.

Leah stuck out her tongue.

“But the worst part”—Millie chuckled, pausing to regain her composure—“was when your father found it.”

“What?” Leah shrieked. “You never told me that part!”

“Well, of course not. How could I?”

Iris was beside herself at the mere idea of it. “Daddy saw the hooker suit? What'd he say?” She was practically choking on the laughter that rose up in her throat.

“I can't listen to this!” Leah cried, standing up. But Iris grabbed ahold of her arm.

“It was terrible,” Millie continued. “I'd thrown it in the back of my closet, fully intending to toss it right in the trash after I confronted you. But then your father stumbled across it when he was getting dressed one morning.”

“Oh. My. God.” Leah's face was as red as the lingerie in question.

“What did you tell him?” Iris wanted to know.

Millie put a tentative hand to her mouth and winced. “That it was mine.”

“You didn't!” the sisters screamed in unison.

“Well, I certainly couldn't tell him it was his fifteen-year-old daughter's!” Millie cried. “Of course, once he saw it, that presented another problem. . . .”

“Tell me you did not try it on for Dad!” Leah cried.

“Please,” Millie said, adjusting her posture and placing her hands primly in her lap. “I told him the color was simply not me. And that I'd have to return it.” She glanced at them sideways. “Though he did look a little disappointed.”

“Eeew!” Iris cried, and the three women fell into a fit of ­giggles.

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. They all jumped.

Cooper Woods poked his head in. “Sorry,” he said, looking at the three of them uncertainly. “I knocked, but I guess you didn't hear me.”

Iris leaped up. “Come on in. We're almost ready.”

Cooper sat down at the table, looking a little like he'd have been more comfortable waiting outside.

Millie studied him a moment. “So, you're going out on the boat with my grandchildren today?”

Iris grimaced in anticipation of yet another awkward confrontation.

But to her surprise Cooper settled back easily into the Windsor chair. “We are. It's supposed to be a beautiful day. In fact, would you ladies like to join us?”

Disarmed, Millie missed a beat. “Oh. That's very nice of you, but I couldn't. The Willetses are returning from Maine tomorrow, and I need to get the house in order. But thank you.”

“Yeah, too much work to do,” Leah added, glancing at Iris for confirmation.

“It's just a slow spin around the cove,” Cooper said. “I've packed plenty of sandwiches. Some watermelon, and iced tea.”

Iris, who still stood on alert in the doorway, was touched. “You did all that?”