The Lake Season

by Hannah McKinnon

“Ah!” Millie looked pleased as she heaped a plate full of pancakes for Naomi.

  “Leah will be glad to hear that. Maybe it’ll get her out in the garden.”

  Naomi looked up. “She’s still here? I thought they went back to Seattle.”

  Iris watched the looks pass between the two women. It was a subtle exchange that needed no translation.

  “So, he’s traveling again,” Naomi concluded, and Millie nodded solemnly.

  Iris sipped her coffee, perplexed. How had Naomi inferred that?

  Switching the subject, Naomi turned to her. “How’s it going? You enjoying being back at home?”

  Enjoying wasn’t exactly the word for it; surviving was more fitting. “Pretty good,” Iris said. Hopefully about to get better. According to her father, Cooper was expected back at the barn that morning, and Iris was prepared to take him up on his offer. So what if she didn’t know much about construction? He’d asked her to help, and she’d figure it out.

  “Morning,” came a soft voice in the hall. They all looked up.

  “Well, here she is!” Millie pulled out a chair. “Naomi has good news, dear. The peas are in!”

  Iris checked Leah’s expression to see just how this piece of information would register, but clearly it did not have the hoped-for effect. Leah nodded glumly and poured herself a cup of black coffee. “Hey, Naomi,” she mumbled.

  “I could use your help out there,” Naomi said, stealing another quick glance at Millie. “Those new trellises you put in last season were magic. You can’t believe how thick the vines are.”

  “Great.” Leah dumped a spoonful of sugar in her cup.

  “Well,” Iris said, standing quickly, “I’d better get going.”

  “Where are you off to?” Millie asked.

  “The barn. I’m helping Cooper Woods with the ceiling.”

  “You’re what?” Millie’s expression couldn’t have relayed more shock.

  This got Leah’s attention, too. “Again?”

  Iris looked at the upturned faces, awash in disbelief. “Yes. Again,” she informed them. “Cooper said he could use a little help.”

  Millie cocked her head. “I thought you’d be working on that cookbook deal. Or something.”

  Or something. “Not today. I want to work in the barn.”

  With that, Leah stood and tossed back the rest of her coffee like it was a shot.

  “And where are you going?” Millie asked, turning in surprise.

  “To get dressed,” Leah announced. “Maybe I will go check on those peas, after all.”

  “Wonderful!” Millie turned to Iris with relief. “You come, too. You’ve got to see what Leah’s done in the garden. It will boost her spirits.”

  “But I told Cooper . . .”

  Now Naomi was giving her the same look as Millie. As though she had some say in the matter.

  Iris glanced at the kitchen door, her escape route. Damn the peas.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Leah said, setting her cup in the sink.

  But Iris could tell it was. “I’ll come check out your peas.” She wanted Leah to know she was interested in the farm. And after yesterday, she was determined to be a little softer around them all.

  Minutes later they were climbing the hill behind the house, struggling to keep up with Leah.

  “Let’s get some picked before the stand opens,” she said brightly.

  The previous fall Leah and Ernesto had installed several rows of small wooden trellises along a fence line, and the narrow vines clung in lengthy, vivid tangles. Iris knelt beside a plant and plucked a pod, running her finger over the small pea bumps within.

  “Try one,” Leah urged, kneeling beside her. “They’re heaven.”

  The work felt good, despite the fact that her arms were still sore from her episode in the barn two days ago. But working with Leah made Iris forget. Leah worked fast, her small hands moving expertly over the plants, picking and pruning, just as Iris had seen their mother do each summer when the family garden was just a small plot of overturned earth behind the house. But there was nothing laborious about Leah’s efforts. Unlike Millie, who moved somberly among the rows, Leah made the work appear artful, much like the close-up cooking shots on Iris’s favorite Food Network show, when the camera zoomed in on Giada De Laurentiis’s manicured fingers as they seductively peeled a juicy orange. Iris paused to watch as Leah stooped among vines, taking the time to touch and taste the fledgling plants, her eyes closing as she considered a sampling. Leah infused the rows Iris had loathed until now with a quiet beauty and Iris realized with a sudden pang that her sister was new to her here. Surrounded by the carefully tilled lengths, Leah’s usual roaming limbs and quick tongue were stilled, her hands busied. Leah belonged there.

  “See?” Millie whispered approvingly. “She just needed to get out, is all.”

  In spite of herself, Iris stole glances at the driveway, wondering where Cooper was. Twice the sound of tires on gravel caused her to stand up in anticipation. But it was just Bill coming back from the grocery store. And Ernesto, with a truckload of mulch. Maybe just as well, Iris told herself.

  They picked a few baskets of peas. “Let’s wash these and get them to the farm stand,” Millie suggested when they’d finished.

  “You coming?” Leah asked.

  To Iris’s dismay, Cooper still hadn’t arrived. She forced a smile. “You bet.”

  Back at the house, Iris submerged her dirty hands in the mudroom slop sink. She scrubbed her hands with the cracked bar of castile soap, right up to her elbows, and then splashed her face. The calluses from her afternoon with Cooper were no longer so raw, and it gave her pleasure to feel the worn skin on her hand growing tough.

  “You did good out there,” Leah said, joining her at the sink. As though Iris had been the one in need of a boost, and not the other way around. Despite the work and the heat, Leah’s spirits were still high, nothing like those of the sullen girl who’d taken to her room the day before.

  Iris moved over to make room for her and passed the milky bar of soap. “That’s being generous. I don’t really think it’s my thing.”

  Leah groaned contentedly as she scrubbed up. “I forgot how good it feels to get my hands in the ground.”

  “I didn’t realize just how much you and Mom had going out here,” Iris said, glancing over at her. She’d not taken the chance to credit Leah, until now. “The farm is incredible.”

  “Yeah. It’s hard to believe we started out with just a few raised beds and Mom’s old umbrella stand. When I first came back last year, I was aching to do something meaningful, you know?” Her eyes sparkled.

  “So don’t you miss it, being out in Seattle? Excuse the pun, but you just seem so rooted here.”

  Leah’s expression changed. “Sure, but it’s different in the city. We’re busy renovating the new apartment. We’ve got tons of restaurants, and theater. Shopping!” She winked at Iris. “Besides, Stephen’s arranged for this great rooftop deck to be constructed. I’ll get a container garden going in no time.”

  “A container garden.” Iris frowned. “Will that do it for you?”

  “Why not? It’s not like we cook; we eat out most nights.”

  “Oh. Right.” But that didn’t sound anything like the Leah Iris knew. “It’s just that you seem so happy here.”

  Leah blinked. “I’m happy in Seattle, too.”

  “So you like decorating the new place? Shopping?” As soon as it came out, Iris regretted it. She hadn’t meant to trivialize Leah’s life out there.

  “Yes. Since you’re finally asking, I do like those things. But that’s not all I do out there. Stephen travels a lot. Sometimes I get to accompany him to exotic places: like Saudi Arabia. Dubai.”

  Iris adjusted her tone, patting her raw fingers with the damp towel. “From what Stephen said at lunch the other da
y, it sounds like there’s some expectation for you to join his family foundation. What was that all about?”

  Leah paused, looking down at her glimmering engagement ring. “Nothing, really. That’s just something his parents want.”

  Iris considered this, though the hopeful look on Stephen’s face at lunch the other day had said otherwise. “Sounds like it meant something to him.”

  “Stephen knows how I feel. He’s not going to push me to do something I don’t want to. He’s just passionate about his family business,” Leah added defensively.

  “But what about your family business? This thing you and Mom have going isn’t just a dinky little vegetable stand; it’s the first time I’ve seen you really happy. I see the way you are out on the farm, and the way everyone responds to you. Are you sure you want to give all of that up?”

  Leah turned and tugged the hand towel from Iris’s grip. “What exactly are you trying to say, Iris? Because I could be asking you the very same questions. I know the kids are away at camp, but why did you come suddenly home? You haven’t been up here in years. You didn’t even know we’d gotten the business off the ground, which you’ve made painfully clear is not your thing. So what’s going on that finally sent you scrambling back here?”

  Iris was stunned. But not deterred. “Look, I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “It just seems like everything is happening so fast. The move to Seattle, the fiancé, the wedding. I guess I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  Leah thrust the hand towel at Iris. “No. I guess you haven’t.”

  • • •

  The kitchen simmered with tension, and as soon as the peas were washed, Iris was relieved to see the silver truck pulled up beside the barn.

  “Gotta go,” she told them.

  Millie stood, checking her watch. “Ready for the farm stand?” she asked Leah.

  But Leah declined. “Actually, I’m pretty hot,” she said, standing in front of the open refrigerator. “I think I’ll take a quick dip and meet you up there. Okay?”

  Millie frowned. “Well, don’t be long. The afternoon crowd is a doozy.”

  Iris hurried upstairs to change her shirt. Sure, she’d be working in the dusty barn. But still . . .

  By the time she’d changed and smoothed her hair into a fresh ponytail, the house was empty. She filled a thermos with fresh iced tea and grabbed two apples. Just in case.

  Outside the afternoon sun was high and bright. The shade of the barn would be welcome. The thermos sloshed under her arm and Iris smiled. Finally, the day belonged to her.

  She was halfway up the hill when she heard laughter. Iris halted. There, leaning against the side of his truck, was Cooper. He was not alone.

  Leah, in a red bikini top, was seated on the tailgate of Cooper’s truck. She wore a pair of tiny denim shorts, ones Iris recognized from high school, if she wasn’t mistaken. Ones that probably would’ve fit Lily. Apparently she’d taken a detour from her quick dip in the lake. The two did not see her approaching.

  “So you stayed on in Hampstead,” Leah was saying.

  “After Dad recovered from his heart attack, it just made sense. My restoration business had grown by then,” he said. And then something Iris couldn’t hear.

  Leah arched her back, laughing openly again. What was she doing? And that bikini top: it was so . . . red. Iris slowed, her heart pounding.

  Leah noticed her first. “Oh. Look who I bumped into.” As if she’d had no idea Cooper was working that day. Or that Iris had been waiting all morning to join him.

  Cooper turned. “Oh, hi, Iris.”

  She couldn’t quite read his expression. For an awkward moment she stood, feeling as though she’d interrupted something. Then she thrust the apples at Cooper. “Here.”

  “Isn’t Iris the greatest?” Leah said. She snatched one playfully from Cooper’s hands and bit into it, rolling the fruit on her tongue.

  Iris shot her a look. She didn’t need Leah’s flimsy accolades.

  “Thanks,” Cooper said, tossing the other apple in one hand, his eyes fixed on Leah. “So, what’re you up to today, Iris?”

  Suddenly Iris felt like an idiot. Yes, Cooper had asked her to help him out the other day. But she realized now that it’d been a gesture. As in, “I’ll see you around.” Not an invitation. Beside her, the tailgate jiggled as Leah slid off.

  “Well, I’d better leave you two to your work,” she said, stretching her brown arms overhead and turning her face slowly toward the sun. “The lake’s calling.” Her voice was as rich and thick as the afternoon heat. Or was Iris imagining it?

  But Cooper seemed to hear it as well. He gazed at her retreating figure in that offhanded, stunned way that left men slow to recover their words. “Good to see you again, Leah,” he called.

  Leah turned to face him and, walking backward, raised the bitten apple. In one graceful motion she tossed it his way, and he leaped to catch it. “You too, Coop.”

  Coop. The heat prickled Iris’s neck. If you take a bite of that, too, I will throw up right here, she thought. But worse, he just stood there shaking his head. Another fool in Leah’s wake. It was high school all over again. Iris had to get out of there.

  “You going for a swim, too?” Cooper asked.

  Iris held out her hands, and for the first time he noticed, bashfully, her denim jeans and work boots.

  “Oh. Wait, did you come up here to help me?”

  Here was her chance. But she didn’t want it anymore.

  “Actually, no.” She shoved the thermos into Cooper’s free hand. “Just brought you some iced tea.”

  Cooper looked confused.

  “Maybe it’ll cool you off,” she said over her shoulder. And though it was the last place she wanted to go, she headed across the lawn for the farm stand.

  Eleven

  Lily? Is that you?”

  “Mama!” Lily’s voice trilled through the phone.

  Iris closed her eyes and leaned back against the bed pillows. It was early in the morning, but she couldn’t wait a moment longer to hear her kids’ voices. The confrontation with Leah in the mudroom, combined with the uncomfortable scene at the barn the day before, had weighed on her all night, and she’d slept poorly.

  “How are you, honey? How’s camp? Tell me everything.”

  And she did. Lily spoke at a breakneck speed that caused Iris to hold her breath for fear of missing a syllable. Her words jumbled into a jubilant account detailing swim lessons, playdates, camp, and, most recently, her lemonade stand.

  “You started a lemonade stand?” Iris sat up, picturing Lily with a homemade sign. She could almost hear the clink of quarters in a mason jar.

  “Daddy helped. We made pink lemonade and cookies. Well, not exactly. We bought the cookies. But everyone came, and we made sixteen dollars! I’m donating it to the Humane Society.”

  Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes as Iris forced her voice to remain steady. “That’s wonderful, honey. I’m so proud of you. Did you take lots of pictures?”

  “Daddy did.”

  Daddy did. Iris swiped at a tear. “Can’t wait to see them.”

  Before she could ask anything more, Lily was passing the phone. “Here’s Jack.”

  “I love you!” Iris said quickly, wondering if Lily had waited long enough to hear it. She grinned when Lily shouted back a distant “You too!”

  The phone clunked, and Iris strained to hear what was happening on the other end, picturing the kids at the kitchen island in their pajamas. Paul was probably hunched over a cup of coffee, his brow as creased as the morning paper. She hoped he’d remembered to let the dog out.

  “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

  Iris smiled at Jack’s casual ease. Her fingers ached to tousle his chestnut hair.

  “How are you, buddy? This mom sure misses her boy. Tell me about camp.”

&n
bsp; “It’s cool. Ryan and Aiden are there. Did you hear about ­Aiden’s tooth?”

  She grimaced as she listened to Jack’s gruesome account of his friend’s dental mishap with the lacrosse stick, feeling simultaneously bad for Aiden and relieved that it wasn’t her own child.

  “You’re wearing your mask every practice, right?” she asked.

  “Mom. You missed the point. He’s getting a fake tooth! How cool is that?”

  “Very,” Iris relented.

  Then the phone was passed again, and she held her breath waiting for Sadie.

  “Iris?” Paul’s voice startled her.

  “Oh . . . hi.” Reflexively, she sat up straight and tucked her hair back. As if he could see her. As if she should care. “Is everything okay?”

  “Good. Fine. Listen, where’s the cortisone cream for Lily?”

  Iris’s mind flashed: it was in the kids’ bathroom closet. But why did he need it? “Is she okay? Is her eczema flaring up?”

  He cleared his throat impatiently. “She’s fine. Just a little dry skin from the pool water.”

  “Oh.” Immediately Iris’s internal mother radar went off. Lily’s eczema bouts could get pretty bad if they weren’t treated—something Paul probably wouldn’t remember. “You know, that prescription may be expired. Why don’t I call the doctor and—”

  “It’s fine, Iris. She just needs a little.”

  “Well, how bad is the eczema? Because—”

  “Iris,” Paul interrupted again. “It’s a tiny spot on her leg. I’ve got it under control.”

  “Which leg?” Iris couldn’t help it. She felt so far away all of a sudden.

  “Does it matter?” Paul’s tone was his usual one of exasperation. Which infuriated her. She was their mother. A mother who was two hundred miles away. If she wanted to ask about eczema, he should answer. Hell, he should take a picture of it and message it to her.

  “I’m her mother, remember?”

  “Yes, Iris. How could we forget?”

  Finally, Sadie came to the phone.

  “Hey.” Sadie’s morning voice was gravelly.

  “How are you, honey?”