by S. A. Wolfe
“What are you talking about? What is Carson going to be home for?” Emma asks from her lounge chair she has sitting several feet away in the water.
“We want to start a family in a couple of years, so we’re trying to put together a work schedule where one of us is always home with the baby.”
“What baby?” Lauren wakes from dozing.
“There’s no baby. I’m not pregnant,” Jess confirms. “We’re just planning as much as we can. We only have control over our work, so that’s what we’re discussing at this point.”
I study Jess for a moment, envious of what she has and how much she has changed in the last two years since I met her. She has always been wicked smart and made great career choices, but she’s had no confidence when it comes to men.
She moved to Hera and had a short fling with Dylan before realizing how ill-matched they were. After that little tryst, it took her a few months to discover that the man she was in love with had been standing silently by all that time. Carson and his stupid, stoic silence. What a messy drama they all created back then. I was with Jeremy at the time, feeling pretty secure about how nice and easy it was working for us. My smugness certainly backfired on me.
“What about you and Dylan?” I ask Emma, who is now fully interested in our conversation. “You fit perfectly together, too. Did you feel that when you met him?”
“Not at all,” Emma replies with a laugh. “We didn’t have a choice, though; we had to work together. The first week was uncomfortable, and I thought Dylan was a jackass. A cute one, but still, I thought he wanted Carson to fire me. You’ve all seen how emotional and uncensored he is.”
Lauren laughs. “Understatement.”
Emma kicks her feet in the lake and sends a sprinkle of water our way, the cold water feeling wonderful on my hot skin.
“We had an instant attraction,” Emma continues, “but we were surrounded by my family problems, and Dylan was still in the beginning stages of his therapy after rehab. Emotionally, we were both a mess, but after a month of being with him, I didn’t want to keep fighting about our problems; I wanted us to fix them together. And, like Jess said, that’s when you know you love the person and want to keep loving them.”
“You make it sound easy. Actually, all three of you do.”
Emma scoffs. “Yes, it’s easy for me to love Dylan. But, no, living with someone and merging your lives isn’t easy. We all have those moments when we get angry and say dumb things. When I asked to go to one of his therapy sessions, Dylan and I had a huge fight because he said it would make him feel like a loser to do his weekly confessional in front of his shrink with me there. We were engaged, and I thought I should be a part of his therapy, at least see what goes on and get to know his doctor.”
“Yeah, too bad you couldn’t just fight about ketchup,” I add with a laugh.
“Mustard,” Jess clarifies.
“Whatever,” I reply. “Props to Emma. Any battle of egos with the Tasmanian Devil over his therapy has got to be right up there with teaching a hippo to do cartwheels.”
“Don’t let Dylan hear you say that,” Lauren laughs.
“Oh, he’s heard Imogene say worse,” Emma retorts. “And going with him to the doctor was not what I expected. Dylan managed to talk about me as if I wasn’t even sitting next to him, and we exchanged some colorful tidbits of criticism about one another, which then escalated into a bigger argument. The doctor ended up refereeing as if he was our marriage counselor. But, hey, we got Dylan’s fears out in that first session, and after that, whenever he leaves for his appointment, he always asks me if I want to go with him. I rarely do, but it’s nice we got over that scary hurdle.”
“I’ll say. And you certainly didn’t lollygag about like Lauren and Leo. It took months for one of them to make a move.”
“Look who’s talking? You and Cooper took a year!” Lauren touches her flat stomach, checking to see if she is showing signs of a pregnant belly yet. I catch her doing this throughout the day, every day. I don’t think she’s aware how often she rubs her belly like it’s a magic genie lamp.
“Cooper and I were not crushing on each other for the past year. We barely had civil conversations.”
“Your fault,” Jess quips.
“Probably, but the point is I remember Lauren was crushing on Leo in June, and they didn’t have a date until December.”
“I needed to see how he danced before I could go out with him.” Lauren snorts at her own statement.
“He’s not that great a dancer,” I say dryly.
“No, he’s not,” she admits. “But after Carson’s holiday party, it only took one date for me to know Leo was the one. Okay, it took six months of mooning over him, eight dances, and one great date night. Now, here we are, almost two years later and still going strong. What about you and Cooper? Think he could be the one?”
“We’re hardly at that point. We’re having fun.” I sit up and consider running into the lake to cool off. “Besides, sometimes I feel like I’ve known Cooper for a long time because he’s been in town for a while now, but then … I met his uncle and brothers, and Cooper seemed like a new person to me, someone I hardly know at all. It’s as if he plunked himself down in town one day and started a new life.”
“But that’s exactly what I did when I moved to Hera,” Emma says. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, but I already knew you from college. I thought I’d figured Cooper out over the last year … but, as it turns out, I know very little. Sometimes he surprises me.”
“He’s congenial for sure,” Lauren says. “I do think he’s a very private person, though.”
“Have you all noticed that we’re all only children, and we’re with guys who are not?” Jess asks.
“I think my independence was one of the reasons why I chose Dylan,” Emma explains. “I was dependent on my parents then an ex-boyfriend until I finally felt free. That’s when everything became clearer for me, and I could see what I really wanted. My marriage still makes me feel very independent and free. I didn’t have that with anyone else before Dylan.”
“I know what you mean,” Jess says, walking into the lake’s edge to splash some water on her arms and legs. “Once I let go of what I was dependent on—hiding behind my job and my overall skepticism—I let myself fall hard for Carson.”
Lauren looks at me with a kind smile. “It’s okay if it takes time, Imogene. I like seeing you and Cooper together. I think you’re a very good fit.”
“Physical chemistry isn’t necessarily enough, though, is it?”
“Don’t most relationships start with physical chemistry, and then you build friendships and love after that? Maybe it’s just me,” Emma mumbles.
“I agree,” Jess says. “In my case, the physical attraction was definitely the catalyst for the pursuit.”
“If that’s what it’s based on, you’re saying we’re basically very superficial.”
Jess shakes her head at me. “Not exactly. Physical attraction is one element of the chemistry you have with someone else, and then emotional attachment comes from the growth of the relationship.”
“You sound like a science teacher. I’m expecting you to explain reproduction to me.”
Lauren sighs and does another belly rub. “I think Imogene is concerned that she and Cooper are not in the same place as us.”
“I’m not concerned. I’m not rushing to get married any time soon. We have a business to run, and this is the first time I’ve taken a whole weekend off from work since I was sixteen. I’m more worried about making payroll and sales figures. This is a very crazy time for me, for us. I like being with Cooper, but I don’t want to get my hopes up and spend time with someone who may not be the one. It’s easy for all of you to see things in hindsight and tell me how you knew you were in love with Mr. Right.”
“I get it. You want to make sure Cooper is marriage material even though you’re not interested in getting marrie
d any time soon,” Jess responds.
“Something like that!” I laugh.
“Sorry,” Jess says. “I’m going to sound sciency here. You need to do a few trial runs to come to a conclusion.”
“Definitely.” Lauren nods. “Mr. Right becomes Mr. Right after you’ve gone through some unglamorous ups and downs. Let him see you with a bad case of food poisoning when you’re hugging the toilet and you’ve got stuff coming out of both ends, see how he handles that. Then you’ll know if a man is marriage material.”
“So gross, and yet, so true,” Emma agrees.
I decide to end the conversation about Cooper and me by taking a dip in the lake. I stand and adjust my bikini which is more snug than usual. I can probably attribute that to sitting on my ass all day at the workshop. Since I’m no longer running around the diner with heavy trays, I’m going to have to start a regular exercise regimen to get rid of this extra flab I’m carrying.
The water is chilly as I walk in, letting my toes squish into the slimy, murky bottom. I plunge in with a shallow dive and swim all the way to the stationary diving dock.
We have the small beach to ourselves and no motorized boats are allowed on the lake; I only see a few canoes in the distance. Somewhere across that lake, our men are sitting in those little canoes, trying to catch some fish for dinner.
I wonder if they talk about us as much as we talk about them, although I’m guessing jock itch is a more appealing topic.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” his low voice rumbles in my ear. He kisses my nose as I struggle to open my eyes against the bright sun.
“Ow. My head hurts.” I blink a few times before Cooper’s face comes into focus. His hair is wet and slicked back. “What time is it?”
“It’s three. We got back a while ago and came down here to swim with you. You’ve been asleep for a long time according to Lauren.”
He rocks back on his heels and helps me sit up.
“Ouch, ouch. Everything hurts. Oh, no.” I hold out my arms that are pink from my hands to my shoulders.
“Babe, you’ve got a bad sunburn.” Cooper touches my thigh, his finger leaving a white impression, the flesh turning red when he pulls his hand back.
I touch my cheeks. “Oh, God, how bad is my face?”
“Didn’t you reapply the sunblock after your swim?” Lauren asks, alarmed as she walks over to us.
I shake my head. “I came back from the swim and laid down on the towel. I guess I fell asleep pretty quickly. How long was I out?”
“Three hours?” Lauren guesses. “Emma and Jess left earlier, so I stayed with you. I dozed off, too, but I was completely covered by my sombrero.”
“I was going to swim longer. Good thing I woke you up,” Cooper says with concern. “Let me help you back to the camp, and we’ll get some lotion for your skin.”
Cooper stands up and graces me with a glorious view of his golden body glistening in the sun from his recent swim, his hair and board shorts dripping wet.
“This is terrible. The wedding is next Saturday. I can’t walk down the aisle in a strapless dress with sunburn marks.”
“You have a nice, light shade of brown under the red. I think it will heal in the next few days,” Lauren says optimistically.
“And then I’ll peel.” I try to stand, but even my knees are burned. I let out a howl from the friction against the beach towel.
“Here,” Cooper says, scooping me up in his arms. “I’ll carry you back.”
“Are you insane? It’s an uphill walk to the camp,” I say, trying to figure out the least painful position for my arms. I decide to drape them loosely around his neck.
“Oh, quit your griping,” Lauren snaps. “I wish someone would carry me back to my tent. I have brain-fry from the heat. I’m ready to go back to sleep.”
“How many times have you done this for me?” I ask softly as he weaves me through the trail brush, making sure rogue branches don’t scrape my tender skin.
“I’ve done this enough with you to be very good at it, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes. You’re very good at this.”
“You can reward me later.”
“Um. I can barely move. Don’t expect any action tonight.”
“You have a one-track mind. You think everything is about sex.”
“Fine. I’ll sing some delightful camp songs for you, a personal show of my wide repertoire in all things Kumbaya.”
Dylan has a whole operation going with cleaning the freshly caught fish when we arrive. Everyone is helping him, giving us a cursory greeting without noticing Cooper is carrying the world’s largest lobster. He swiftly takes me to our tent where I lie back on the air mattress with my arms and legs stretched out so they aren’t touching other singed body parts. I don’t want to move and feel too lousy to eat; as a result, I insist that Cooper join the others for a quick dinner and help them pack everything up before the predicted forecast of rain comes our way.
When Cooper returns to our tent with a bottle of lotion and some books, it’s already getting dark. He turns on the lantern and kneels down next to me.
“This should help.” He holds up the aloe and then begins to dab it gingerly all over my body, gently lifting the edges of my bikini where the red lines are severe. He takes his time, blowing on the gelled flesh to create a cooling sensation that gives me goose bumps.
“That feels good. Where did you get it?”
“Jess. She’s a cornucopia of every weird thing no else thinks to bring. And she has provided this evening’s entertainment.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll have to wait until I’m done here.” He lies down alongside me then swirls some of the clear gel on my arms and continues to blow lightly on it.
“You’re very good at this, too.” I close my eyes as he massages my neck with the goopy gel.
When every part of flesh is covered with aloe, Cooper puts on his glasses and lies next to me with a couple of books. “I’m going to read to you tonight. Jess gave me two very thrilling books.”
“Oh, boy. I can’t wait. Is there anything sexy?”
“I think this must be the sexy one. It’s Freakonomics.” He holds up the book and smirks.
“God, you look unbelievably gorgeous in those glasses. If I wasn’t burned to a crisp, I’d try to do something freaky with you. And you’re not reading that book to me. What’s the other one?”
“Programming Perl. I’m assuming it’s a mystery about a cute red-head who likes to write code.”
“Jess brings work books on her vacation? I want something fun.”
“Sorry, phones are dead here; otherwise, I’d buy a book for you. We don’t need to read.” He takes off his glasses and puts them aside.
Damn, I love those glasses.
Outside, the rain picks up, the pattering of raindrops on the tent creating a soothing backdrop to our dimly lit environment. Cooper props himself up on one arm and lifts his other hand as if he’s trying to decide where he can put it without inflicting more pain on me. He settles with placing his palm face up under my limp hand with our fingers are touching. He rests his head on my pillow, his warm breath on the side of my face, the simple, light caress from his fingers all it takes to make me feel content.
Twenty-Four
Lauren anxiously paces the back room in the church. She’s nervous that the bridesmaid dresses were supposed to arrive last Monday and had to be overnighted to make it here this morning. With only two hours before the wedding, Leo and his groomsmen are in another room, changing into their rented attire, no mishaps for them. We’re waiting for Lauren’s mother who stayed behind for the bridesmaid dresses to be delivered to her home and is racing to the church with dresses that we haven’t tried on yet.
“What did you expect when you asked Dee Dee to make these dresses? She’s a nut,” I say.
“She went to Parsons. She’s a real designer.”
“She wore a top hat and pur
ple clogs all through high school. She does costumes for performers. If Elton John or Lady Gaga need a new bedazzled jumpsuit, Dee Dee is your gal.”
“She and I agreed on the design, and I approved the fabric swatches. She had all your measurements, so there shouldn’t be any surprises.”
Emma and Jess remain silent through our little spat. They don’t want Lauren to get more frazzled than she already is; therefore, they help my mother set up her sewing machine and supplies on a table, ready to do her seamstress magic to our dresses. Eleanor and Lois choose that moment to usher in the two women from the salon who are going to do our hair and makeup.
“On the bright side, at least you bought your dress in the city,” I say to Lauren. I’m supposed to be her reassuring maid of honor. “The only dress that really matters today is yours, and you’re going to be beautiful.” I hold out the strapless, ivory bridal gown that hangs from a chandelier.
“It is perfect, isn’t it?” Lauren admires the expensive designer dress her mother bought her.
“I’m here!” Nina comes bursting through the door with a large, battered cardboard box. “I have the dresses!”
“Was the box dropped from a plane and run over by a train?” I ask.
“Who cares? Pam, you should get started on these, and I’ll help Lauren get into her dress.” Nina hands the box to my mother and then grabs Lauren and her gown, hustling her across the room to one of the bamboo dressing screens.
“But I want to see their dresses.” Lauren looks back at the box with a frightened expression.
“No. It’s out of your hands. Pam will take care of their dresses. You need to get ready.” Her mother directs her behind the screen.
My mother opens the box and pulls the first dress out and holds it up. Jess and Emma step closer.
“I thought these were supposed to be champagne-colored silk. This looks like Band-Aid brown,” Jess whispers to us so Lauren can’t hear.