“Is that what you want?”
“No! I want us, Cooper. I want us to have a chance. I think we’d be good. I know we would.”
Cooper’s eyes held her own. “But?”
“But then I look at Sadie and Lily and Jack. They have so much ahead of them. And I can’t help but wonder how much I’d derail that if I let my family go. It kills me to think about what this would do to them; the shuffling back and forth between two homes. The fact that they are either with their dad or with their mom, but never have access to both at the same time. And I think kids need that; I really do.”
Cooper watched quietly as she went on, her voice as rapid as her pacing.
“It’s so unfair to the kids. What if Lily gets sick, and she’s at her dad’s? What if she wants me in the middle of the night?” She paused, imagining the scene in her mind. “And the split—who gets the weekends? Who gets Christmas?” She was rambling now, a stream of all her domestic fears pouring out into Cooper’s quiet living room. “Forget about the holidays, what about the little things: like making sure they have healthy lunches packed for school each day? And that Jack does his homework. And who’s monitoring their friends, and social media, and making sure they’re okay? This whole separate-parenting thing: God, how does it even work?” She stopped in front of the fireplace, a wild look on her face.
Cooper, who’d been patiently waiting for her to finish, stood. “Iris. These are the things I was talking about that night at the inn. Splitting up was the hardest thing I ever went through, and I don’t even have kids.” He approached her carefully. “These are not small decisions. And as much as I wish I could help, I can’t make them for you.” He reached for her hands, but instead she fell against him, burying her face in his neck.
“Before, it was easier. It was Paul’s decision, and somehow that made it different. Now, it’s all on me. If I choose not to get back together, then I’m the one pulling the trigger. I can’t imagine putting the girls and Jack through that. It just seems so selfish.”
“I know. Hearing you say it like that . . .” He pulled back, looking at her. “It’s why I’ve stayed away, Iris. Because someday, when things got tough, which they would, you’d resent me. I don’t want to saddle you with that kind of regret. Too much is at stake.”
Iris nodded appreciatively. But it didn’t make it easier. “I don’t want to stay in an unhappy marriage, Coop. I know people divorce, and kids get through it. But this feels like I have to choose between the kids’ happiness and ours.”
Cooper looked pained. “I have to say this, Iris.”
“What?”
“Paul cheated on you. He had a woman like you, a beautiful, intelligent, strong woman. And he cheated. He doesn’t deserve you back—he never did in the first place.”
Iris felt her insides give. It was what she wanted: Cooper was fighting for her.
Cooper looked at her searchingly. “Iris, I love you. But whether you end up with me or not, you deserve a happy ending. Paul can’t give you that.”
Tears formed in her eyes. “I can’t find the ‘happy’ in any of it. Someone ends up hurting.” She went to the window. The clouds had darkened the sky to a steely gray that reminded her of winter. She shivered. “Tell me what to do.”
Cooper came to stand beside her. “I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
Iris put her hands to her eyes. She felt as if she might fly apart into a million pieces right there. “I feel so damn alone.”
“You’re not alone,” Cooper whispered, pulling her back against him. “Every night I sit on that porch thinking about you.” He pointed outside to the wooden deck overlooking the pines. “And every day I stand at that stove imagining making you breakfast.” He pointed to the kitchen behind them, where they’d done just that.
Iris looked up at him. “I want that, too. You have no idea how much.” She swallowed back her tears. “Every night I lie in bed, and my limbs ache. They just ache to be held.”
Cooper squeezed her harder. “Iris, before this summer, I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love again. Not like this.” He laughed sadly. “You made me feel like a teenager. Like we were two crazy kids with nothing ahead of us but a long, hot summer. You made me feel so alive.”
“Me too.”
“But we aren’t teenagers anymore. We’ve got grown-up lives and responsibilities. And I never expected you to turn your back on all that.”
“Oh, Cooper. I’m sorry. I’ve made such a mess of things.”
“Hold on a minute.” He sat back, his hands on her shoulders. “I wouldn’t trade this summer for anything. No matter how it . . . ends.”
The word shifted in the air between them, ushering Iris to the heart of the matter. “I don’t think there’s any other way,” she said, her eyes brimming. “I tell myself that this is the right thing to do. I have to go home.”
Cooper’s blue eyes clouded, and he blinked as she said it. “With Paul? Is that what you want?”
She shook her head. “Paul and I aren’t in love; it’s too late for us. But I think I have to stay in this marriage for the kids. I just want them to have a happy childhood. To feel loved.”
“What about you?”
“I had my chance. Right?” She put a hand to his cheek. “I had this summer. I’ll just have to take it with me.”
Cooper sat down on the couch. “All right,” he whispered. “If that’s what you want.”
“Do you understand?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Do you know how hard this is for me? That it goes against every grain of my being?” She looked into his eyes, which were glistening now.
“You’re an amazing woman, Iris. I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”
There, he’d said it. He’d freed her to go, though going was the last thing she wanted to do.
Cooper stood and jammed his hands awkwardly in his pockets, just the way he’d done on that first morning back in July when they’d bumped into each other at the farm stand. “It’s probably the right thing to do.”
“Is it?”
He forced a small smile. “Every night your kids will have you.”
“I know,” she cried. “But every night when I close my eyes, it’ll be you I see.”
And as suddenly as it was said, Cooper moved to the door. Iris hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. It was the worst decision, and the right one. Her head spun at the realization that she’d done it. It was over, and if she’d meant what she said, then it was time for her to go home.
Cooper did not open the door but stood there, beside her, as she paused on the threshold. Gentleman though he was, he would not be the one to open the door that would let her walk out of his life.
Iris turned, one last time, and brushed his cheek with her lips.
He inhaled softly.
She kissed his face lightly, trailing her lips across the stubble on his jaw. “I love you, Cooper Woods.” She kissed his eyes, his forehead. Until her mouth found his, and she pressed against them with her whole being.
Cooper wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, his mouth opening to accept her. To taste her, one last time.
And when she thought she would either burst or cry out, she turned away, pushed through the screen door, and hurried down the stairs. She did not look up at the porch as she pulled away. Vision blurred by tears, she navigated the gravel drive roughly. It wasn’t until she reached the main road that she stopped, rested her head on the steering wheel, and wept.
Thirty-Seven
Leah was sitting up in a chair working with the speech therapist when Iris arrived the next morning.
“How’s she doing?” Iris asked when the therapist came out.
“Remarkable, considering.” She glanced at her notes. “I’m going to refer her for continued assistance at the rehabilitation center, but I think they’ll discharge her shortly thereafter.” She smiled at Iris.
“Like I said, she’s doing great.”
At least one of us is, Iris thought as she returned to Leah’s room. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, and her stomach felt queasy.
“Come here,” Leah said, patting the bed. “I want to talk to you.”
Iris waited as Leah tried to scoot over to make room for her. “Take your time,” she said, reaching to help.
But Leah waved her hand away. “I’ve got it.”
The therapist was right. Leah was doing remarkably well, and Iris had to stop fussing over her.
“So you’re busting out of here, I hear?”
Leah smiled. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
Leah had been given the thumbs-up to be transferred to the rehabilitation center the next morning. She’d have access to all the help she needed, from the occupational therapy room to daily sessions with the in-house counselor. It was a relief to all of them.
“Mom and Dad are over at the center now, checking things out,” Iris told her.
Leah rolled her eyes. “Great, you know what that means.”
“Millie will have instilled the fear of God in the staff before you even arrive. And your roommate, if you have one, will have been displaced from the room. Which will have been completely rearranged and redecorated, of course.”
Leah laughed. “And they’ll all hate me before I even arrive.”
“Nah, you’ll win them over the second they meet you. Like you always do.” Iris squeezed her sister’s hand. “Remember how Mom used to ‘visit’ Girl Scout camp before our session each summer?”
“Oh, God. The gym schedule was totally revamped to make way for performing arts. And the junk food cereal was pulled from the mess-hall shelves.”
“Don’t forget the time she suggested that the boys’ camp be moved across the lake!”
Leah shook her head, giggling. “Remember we pretended not to know her on visiting weekend? We were so afraid the other kids would tease us.”
Iris grinned. “She always knew how to ruin stuff.”
“All for us!”
“But she meant well,” Leah added in their mother’s defense.
“And she still does.” They sat for a minute, recalling their mother’s interferences with fondness.
“Listen, I need to tell you something,” Leah said. She looked at Iris with an intensity that Iris could tell was hard to muster.
“Are you tired? Maybe I should go and let you rest.”
Leah shook her head. “It’s about Stephen.”
“I already know, did he tell you we ‘bumped’ into each other?”
“Yeah. That’s what I want to talk to you about. I don’t want you to be mad at him.”
“I’m not mad,” Iris reassured her, and Leah shot her a skeptical look. “Not anymore. We were just worried about you.”
“I know,” Leah said. “But I’m the one who made those choices.” She lowered her voice. “From keeping a secret to—”
Iris interjected. “You were hurting, Leah. I wish I’d known how much. I should’ve done more to help you.”
“No,” Leah interrupted. “Don’t say that. You were there for me, just like Mom and Dad were. You were all just trying to protect me.” She shook her head ruefully. “From myself.”
Iris leaned against the pillows, allowing herself to think back over things she’d tried to forget. “Mom and I didn’t agree. She wanted to let things go, and leave things up to you to handle. But I pushed you to tell Stephen about the pregnancy. On the eve of your wedding, no less. It wasn’t my place.”
“You were trying to protect me from this.” She held her hands out, indicating the sterile hospital room around them. “Maybe if I’d listened, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“So you’re not upset with me?”
Leah sat up and wrapped her thin arms around her. “How could I be?”
“What do you want to happen next? What can I do to help?”
“Listen, Stephen and I have talked. A lot.” She paused. “We’ve made a decision.”
“About?” Iris asked warily.
“We want to work things out.” Leah beamed as she said it, but Iris couldn’t help but be skeptical.
“Are you ready for that? I mean . . .”
“Yes. I am. Which is why I want you to tell Mom for me.”
Iris laughed out loud. “Excuse me? Were you not listening to everything we just said about summer camp?”
“Seriously, Iris. She has to know. He wants to stay, and I want her to let him.” She blinked. “I need him.”
“Okay. But why me?”
“Because she listens to you. You’re the good one. The one with ‘her head on straight.’ ”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“No, it’s true. She’ll take it better coming from you. You’re always so good at rationalizing things. If only you’d gone to law school, like she wanted.” She smiled ruefully. “Really, will you do this one thing for me?”
Iris hesitated. “Okay. But what do you want me to tell her exactly?”
“Tell her that we’ve decided to stay in Hampstead. Stephen thinks he can work from the East Coast. When I get better we’ll find a place together near the farm.” She sank back against her pillows, stifling a yawn. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But somehow, I think we’re all going to be okay.”
So, they were staying after all. It was the best news Iris could’ve hoped for her. Leah would get to stay at the farm, doing what she loved. And Stephen would be with her, doing what he loved, if from a distance. “I’m happy for you, Leah. You deserve this.”
Iris watched as Leah’s eyelids began to flutter. It was still hard to see her vibrant sister worn out by a mere conversation. “I’ll tell Mom.”
“You too, Iris. You’re going to be okay, too.”
“I know.”
Leah opened her eyes. “No, you don’t. I saw you this summer. I know how messed up I was with my own shit, but I saw you.” She yawned again, her words coming more slowly. “You were the old Iris.”
“Old?” Iris forced a laugh.
“The happy Iris. Like when we were kids.”
Iris looked out the window. “I don’t think I was ever that happy as a kid. Not compared to you, at least.”
“Sure you were.”
“No, that would be you.” Iris let out a nervous laugh. “The popular one, the champion swimmer. No matter what I did, you always came along and did it better.”
Leah turned to her. “Why do you think I tried so hard? How do you think I won all those ribbons?”
Iris sighed, the old jealousies of it creeping back. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
“I was just trying to keep up with you.”
Iris stared back at her sister, a blank look on her face.
“Come on, you must’ve known. You were the good one. I may have been the loud, exciting one, but that was your shadow I was always chasing.” Leah adjusted the blankets and closed her eyes again. “You deserve to be happy, Iris. Just let yourself.”
Iris stiffened slightly on the bed. “Listen, you’d better get some rest. Besides, I should probably head back to the farm. Paul’s been with the kids all week. I think they’re getting ready to go home soon.”
Leah gave a small nod against her pillow, eyes still closed. “What about you?” she murmured.
Iris wavered. Although she’d come to a decision at Cooper’s, she was still not at peace with it. “I think maybe I should go home with them.”
Leah didn’t answer at first, and Iris wondered if perhaps she’d fallen asleep. After a minute she got up and quietly fetched her purse. But as she paused at the bed, Leah’s hand found her own.
Her voice was a mere whisper before she gave in to sleep. “You are home.”
Thirty-Eight
The next a
fternoon Iris stood by her own bed, in her childhood room. She gazed at the suitcase and bags strewn across its quilted surface and shook her head. How had she acquired so much stuff?
“This is pretty,” Trish said, handing her a coral silk scarf. It was the one she’d bought in town, in her fit of defiance. Along with the two pairs of heels, which she held up now. She examined the soles of the black pair, which Leah had scuffed up that crazy night in the bar. Even her shoes retained the scars of the summer.
“You take these,” Iris said, thrusting them at Trish.
“What do you mean? You rocked these heels.”
Iris frowned. “Where am I going to wear those back at home? Soccer? A Girl Scouts meeting?”
“Well, aside from the fact I couldn’t jam my size-eleven feet into these to begin with, you are not tossing these out. You find a place to wear them. They’re part of the new you!”
Trish was smiling, but Iris wasn’t so sure that bringing the new her home was such a good idea. “They make me feel guilty.”
“That’s crap.” Trish dangled the black heels between them. “How can a pair of shoes make you feel guilty?”
“I don’t know. I bought them when I was mad. When I was trying to turn into someone else. They just feel illicit somehow, coming home with me.”
“Illicit my ass. You mean sexy. And there is nothing wrong with sexy, Iris. You could use a little more sexy. Now pack these in that suitcase before I rap you over the head with them.”
Iris gave in and tucked them under her mom jeans, which had so far escaped Trish’s attention. Until now.
“These, however, should be burned!” Trish plucked out the pair of Iris’s saggy old jeans. Before Iris could snatch them away, she tossed them over her shoulder to the garbage can in the corner.
“Stop, I can wear those in the garden,” Iris objected.
Trish narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I see. I get it now.”
“Get what?”
“You’re going to go home and revert right back to your old ways. As if this summer never happened.”
Iris stared at her suitcase.
“Isn’t that right?” Trish pressed.
The Lake Season Page 34
