The Lake Season

by Hannah McKinnon

  “Hello?” his voice was breaking up, but to her relief he’d finally answered.

  “Thank God,” she breathed. “I need to explain.” There was no reply, and at first she feared he’d hung up. “Cooper?”

  “I’m here,” he said.

  Iris tipped her head back against the wooden siding. “I wish that were the case.”

  “Iris, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “But I do,” she insisted. “I had no idea Paul was coming, really. I can’t believe he’s here.”

  “It’s okay, Iris. Really.” His voice was even, seemingly free of anger or any of the other things she’d worried about. But now she wasn’t so sure that was a good thing. Shouldn’t it bother him?

  “He’s not supposed to be here, Cooper.”

  “But he is. And it’s probably best that you take some time and figure that out.”

  She didn’t have time. And she certainly didn’t need to figure things out. Paul had done that already for them, back in June. Leaving her to spend the summer doing just that, by herself. She was sick and tired of being expected to figure it out.

  “Cooper. I know what I want. And it’s not Paul.”

  There was a pause on the line. “Then you need to share that with him.”

  “I am,” she said, somewhat defensively. “I mean, I will. But I want you to know that first.”

  “That’s nice to hear,” Cooper said. “Thank you.” Was that relief in his voice? Or was she just projecting her own hopes onto him?

  “Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. “I guess I’ll see you tonight, at the rehearsal dinner.”

  “About that . . .” Cooper said.

  “You are coming, right?”

  He sighed. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

  “Cooper, don’t let Paul keep you away. You were invited. You’re a guest, regardless of what crazy stuff is going on with my family.”

  “Iris, let’s be honest. I’m not just a guest. And now that Paul is here, well, it just doesn’t seem respectful.”

  “To Paul?” A new swell of resentment rose up. Paul had thrust himself on all of them, ruining everything, just when she was finally feeling happy. Why should any of them be concerned about being respectful to him?

  “Why don’t I wait and come tomorrow for the wedding? Bigger crowd, lots going on. I think that makes more sense, don’t you?”

  Iris shook her head. “Please, Cooper. I want you there tonight. For me.”

  Finally, he relented. “Okay. But for the record, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “It’ll be fine,” Iris insisted. “We’re all grown-ups.”

  “Just don’t seat me next to the guy, okay?”

  They were both laughing now. But she didn’t feel relief; his words hung in the air. Just because she’d gotten her way didn’t mean it was a good idea.

  • • •

  Back at the house, Iris whisked through the kitchen, only to be stopped dead in her tracks in the living room. Paul, who was seated alone on the couch, jumped up. “There you are.”

  But Millie, who flew out of the kitchen as if on cue, beat him to her.

  “Where have you been?” she asked, frantic. “We’ve got to be at the club in one hour. Everyone’s upstairs getting ready. The kids need to get dressed now!”

  Relieved at the diversion, Iris threw Paul a look of faux apology and hurried up the stairs behind her mother.

  Jack emerged from her bathroom, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a red striped tie. “Oh, honey. You look so handsome!”

  The girls were also dressed. Sadie had on a little too much makeup, but Iris didn’t say anything. She helped Lily tie the bow on her dress and sent them downstairs to wait. “Don’t go outside. And don’t eat anything!”

  Quickly, Iris showered and blew out her hair. She slipped into her dress and did her makeup. In the hallway she paused only long enough to tug on her heels.

  Millie was summoning them from downstairs. “They’re pulling the cars around. I’ve got the kids.”

  Apparently only Iris and Leah were left. Iris went to her door.

  “You ready?”

  Leah sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. She turned around. “God, you look stunning,” Iris said. There was no trace of the puffy eyes or hollow expression Iris had witnessed that morning. Iris watched in awe as her sister expertly swept her hair back into a chignon.

  “Thank you.” Leah held up the string of their grandmother’s pearls. “Can you help me put them on?”

  She’d found them after all. “This was sweet of Mom.” Iris paused. “She left them on your bed last night.”

  “I didn’t come home.”

  “I know. What happened?”

  Leah sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking about what you said. That Stephen needs to know.”

  Iris secured the clasp. “And?”

  “And I don’t know what to do. It will break his heart. All Stephen wants is to start a family.”

  Iris sat down beside her. “There is never going to be a good time, Leah. You have to tell him.”

  Leah shook her head. “I can’t.”

  Even though Iris had the sense she was pushing too hard, she couldn’t let it go. There was still time to do the right thing. “Leah, it’s not fair. You’ve got to tell him the truth.”

  The bedroom door opened. Stephen stood in his cream linen suit, as handsome as Iris had ever seen him. A look of uncertainty clouded his face.

  “Tell me what?”

  Thirty-Two

  The country club drive was lit up like something out of a fairy tale. To her chagrin, Iris had ended up in the back of the Willetses’ car.

  “Oh, will you look at that,” Adele purred as they rolled down the twinkling cobblestone drive. All the pear trees lining the country club entrance were draped in tiny white lights, and between them rows of luminarias flickered against the glowing purple sky.

  Iris had to admit it was magical. But she couldn’t focus on the beauty of the night. She was too shaken by the image of Leah’s distraught expression when they both turned to see Stephen. He’d heard too much. Stephen had stood in the doorway for what seemed an eternity before either Iris or Leah recovered.

  “What does Iris want you to tell me?” he’d asked again.

  Leah had been the first to respond, rushing over and silencing him with a kiss. “Oh, nothing,” she’d said breezily. “Now scoot out of here and let me get dressed, honey. We can’t be late to our own rehearsal!”

  He’d relented, but not before he locked eyes with Iris, who’d excused herself quickly from the room, heart pounding in her chest. Just how much he’d heard was unclear. If only Iris hadn’t brought it up to begin with.

  Ahead, her parents’ BMW rolled to a stop in front of the large double doors, and the valet helped her family out of the car. First Millie, who stood on the bottom of the granite steps in a knee-length powder-blue dress. She touched her signature pearls and accepted Bill’s arm as he rounded the front of the car. Then the back doors opened, and Stephen stepped out. Standing in the circular drive, Stephen looked tanned and handsome, and Iris held her breath as he reached one hand into the car. Leah emerged. Like the perfect plastic wedding cake topper, the elegant bride and groom stood staring up at the clubhouse, arms around each other. Just stay that way, Iris willed them.

  By the time Iris climbed the stairs to the club, her family had already moved inside. Music met her at the open doors. She hurried underneath the crystal chandelier and across the foyer. In the dining room a small brass band was set up in the bay window, and guests mingled among the tables. Anxiously, she scanned the room, locating Millie with a group of women she recognized from the garden club, and her father over at the bar. To her relief, Leah and Stephen were posing by the fireplace, smili
ng for pictures. Maybe Leah had worked her magic once more and he’d let it go. Maybe things were fine after all.

  “Can we get Shirley Temples?” Lily appeared at her side and began tugging on her arm excitedly. Paul was right behind her.

  “Just one!” Iris called as Lily took off across the dance floor.

  Sadie and Jack followed, but Paul did not. “What a setup,” he mused. Iris had to agree, but she wasn’t about to say so to him. “Can I get you a drink?” Paul asked, looking at her more carefully. “Hey, you cleaned up well.”

  She ignored the half compliment. “Yes, actually. I’ll have a—”

  “Dry martini, stuffed olives. Our usual.”

  “Usual?”

  Paul chuckled. “Iris, come on. We’ve been married for sixteen years.”

  She tried to ignore the shiver that accompanied that observation. Of course they had been. But the way he’d said it. As if they would be for sixteen more. And come to think of it, she couldn’t remember ever truly liking that drink. It was Paul’s favorite.

  “Wait,” Iris said. “Make mine a beer.”

  Paul turned, eyebrows raised. “A beer?”

  “Yes. Sparkling ale, actually.”

  “Since when do you like sparkling ale?” he asked, the words clipped on his tongue.

  “Since always, if you’d ever asked.”

  “A beer it is, then.” Paul shook his head, but left her, as she’d hoped he would. Suddenly the room seemed stuffy, and she tugged at her shoulder strap.

  “Yoo-hoo. Iris!” She turned to see a petite blond woman making a rapid approach. “Look at youuuuu!”

  “Bitsy Hartmoore.”

  Bitsy, a childhood classmate, clapped her hands as if she and Iris were long-lost friends. Though friends, they’d never really been. While Bitsy had never managed to fully penetrate the more popular crowd, she’d spent her high school years circling them like a shark, snapping up thankless positions like class treasurer and pep rally leader, any measure to keep her abreast of the gossip, which she had always more than generously shared.

  “Bitsy Hartmoore-Greene, now!” she gushed, holding up her left hand, which was nearly swallowed by the golf-ball-sized diamond on her ring finger. Bitsy kissed Iris on both cheeks, twice. “Wonderful to see you.”

  “Wonderful,” Iris echoed hollowly, glancing again at the door. She didn’t feel like making small talk with the likes of Bitsy, who still appeared to be a size zero in both dress size and personality, though her bosom did look like it’d undergone some enhancements since they’d last met.

  Bitsy waved her left hand again. “We’re just so excited for your little sis. Our popular girl, wasn’t she? We didn’t think she’d ever settle down!”

  Iris nodded vaguely, wondering at Bitsy’s use of we. As if they’d commiserated over Leah over the years. As if they’d ever commiserated on anything, period.

  “Yes.” Iris laughed stiffly. “Well, you know. People change.”

  “If you say so.” Bitsy lowered her voice. “Speaking of, I heard there are some little changes in your life, too.” She raised what was left of her overly plucked eyebrows, hopefully.

  And then Paul appeared with Iris’s beer.

  Again, Iris craned her neck toward the ballroom doors, hoping to be rescued by Millie or interrupted by a wayward relative. Anything to pluck her from this little huddle of her least favorite people. As if on cue, Trish appeared in the main doors.

  “Trish!” Iris waved.

  Trish, spotting them, gave Iris a conservative wave back. And a sharp flick of her head in the opposite direction.

  And she realized why. Right behind Trish, filling the doorway, was Cooper. Looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him, in a charcoal-gray suit and rugby-striped tie. He paused, glancing around the room, giving Iris’s little group just enough time to spot him before he spotted them.

  “Oh, look. If it isn’t Cooper Woods,” Bitsy announced with a little too much pleasure. She bumped Iris suggestively with her bony elbow. “See? Over there.”

  If they’d been back in elementary school, Iris would’ve kicked her right in the shin. Something she wasn’t necessarily above doing now.

  Paul’s brow furrowed as he glanced from Cooper to Bitsy to Iris, trying to decode the signals. “Someone you know?”

  “Nobody special,” Bitsy interjected. Then, giggling, “Just our high school homecoming king! Right, Iris?” And there was that bony elbow again.

  Iris forced a smile just as Cooper found her in the crowd. Their eyes locked as he took in Paul, then Bitsy and her wishy-washy husband, who both waved, to her dismay. Would he feel obligated to come over? Iris closed her eyes, feeling herself begin to wobble in her heels. Not now. Not with Bitsy ­Hartmoore-Greene as witness.

  But when she opened them, to her relief, Trish had taken Cooper by the arm and was whisking him across the room, to a table of high school classmates. Bitsy took off after them.

  Iris took a long swig of her beer, willing her ankles to stop shaking and her heart to stop pounding. Paul leaned closer, whispering in her ear. “I’m glad I’m here,” he said.

  • • •

  They got through dinner, which everyone said was delicious, though Iris was too fidgety to taste any of it. She’d tried to focus on the kids, but they kept running off to play with distant cousins they’d reacquainted themselves with. Though Stephen remained reserved, Leah blushed and giggled in all the right places as toasts were given, each growing more colorful as the drinks were poured and the night rolled on. Iris, having not eaten much, found herself feeling a bit tipsy, which interestingly enough had an adverse affect on her ability to walk in her high heels. As she strode across the dance floor, Trish pulled her into a small group of old friends. “Finally!” Trish said, her expression flushed and full of questions. “Didn’t realize you’d have two dates tonight!” She gestured toward Paul. “What is going on?”

  “Long story,” Iris shouted over the music. “But don’t worry, he’s leaving tomorrow.”

  “Which one?” Trish teased.

  When Iris didn’t laugh, Trish grabbed her by the hand. “Come on, let’s dance.”

  Their old high school favorites coursed through the ballroom: Madonna, Bon Jovi, Springsteen. Before long, she’d forgotten Paul, who remained seated at the table, watching impatiently. And for a moment she’d almost forgotten her worries about Cooper, whom she’d been able to keep tabs on across the room all night, as he talked among old friends. So far no awkward paths had been crossed. The music picked up, and the floor thickened. When “Dancing Queen” came on, Iris allowed herself to be propelled into the center of the group, delighted to find Leah right there with the rest of them. “What a night!” Leah cried, throwing her arms around Iris’s neck. Iris was nearing drunk now, she realized. She looked down at her feet, which she suddenly realized were bare. Where had she tossed her shoes?

  Longingly, Iris scanned the room. Where was Cooper now? When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned, heart leaping. But it was only Stephen’s best man, who reintroduced himself as Sully, Stephen’s college roommate. “Figured I’d better come clean with my moves, before the big day tomorrow,” he joked, offering his hand.

  Iris laughed. Sully was a flirt, and a cute one at that. As he’d warned, he wasn’t the smoothest, but he was a clown, and they danced together as the music turned to classics and the DJ spun “Twist and Shout,” which got everyone up on their feet, even Iris’s parents, who were clearly having a good time. Leah shrieked playfully as Sully tugged her into the center and, with hands on her hips, got down, mimicking his exaggerated twist. “Come on, man!” Sully called to Stephen, who stood watching from the bar. But Stephen just shook his head.

  “If this is the rehearsal dinner, I can’t wait for the reception!” Trish appeared at her arm with shots of tequila and passed her one.

&n
bsp; Iris declined, putting up her hands. “I’ve had too much.”

  “What’s one more?” Trish nodded toward the dance floor, where Sadie and Lily were bopping around with Leah and some of her bridesmaids. Jack was dancing nearby with Millie. Paul watched idly from their table. “Put Paul’s visit to good use. Let him be on kid duty for the night,” Trish said.

  Iris laughed. “What the hell.” They clinked their tiny glasses and Iris tipped her shot down, a warm fire smoldering instantly in her tummy.

  Looking around, as the music pulsed through the floor, Iris realized that right at this moment everyone she’d ever loved was under this one roof. Her kids, her parents, her sister. Trish, Cooper. And even Paul. All of the people who made up the bedrock of her life were right here. It might never happen again. A wave of sadness rushed up, the kind of wave to which the old Iris would have succumbed. But the new Iris pushed back. No, she would not fret over the passing moment. If she’d learned anything that summer it was that all you ever had was right now. And right now felt pretty damn good.

  Just as everyone was flushed with exertion, the DJ spun an oldie. The room slowed, and the melodic notes of “Moon River” washed over the guests. Iris swiped at her brow; she needed a drink of water and some air. Pushing her way to the bar, she felt someone’s eyes on her. Leaning against the French doors was Cooper.

  “I thought I’d never get you off that dance floor,” he said as she glided past him and out onto the balcony. The night air was crisp and welcoming, and she leaned against the iron railing, trying to catch her breath.

  “Not a dancing guy?” she asked playfully.

  Cooper smiled. “I can be coerced. Just didn’t think it was our night.” He nodded over his shoulder, toward the ballroom inside.

  Hard as it was to keep her distance, she really did appreciate Cooper’s discretion.

  “Wouldn’t want to give good ol’ Bitsy any more to gossip about than she already has,” Cooper whispered, stepping closer.

  “Bitsy can go to hell.” And with a quick glance over their shoulder, Iris pressed her lips against his. They were warm and full, tasting faintly of beer, which she found terribly intoxicating. “I miss you.”