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 instea
d 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.
“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 wor
ds to the questions that stirred inside her. She just hoped she had the stomach for the answers, whatever they might be.
Fifteen
The 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?
The Lake Season Page 13
