The Lake Season

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The Lake Season Page 17

by Hannah McKinnon


  Iris wondered just how “little” their cottage on Grose Point was, knowing full well from Leah’s descriptions of their Washington peninsula that it was an exclusive spot, dotted by sprawling estates.

  “We’re so excited to have your sister join our family,” Lance said. “We have big plans for adding her charisma to our foundation.”

  “Unless, of course, a grandbaby arrives sooner than we expected.” Adele tittered coyly.

  Leah smiled back at her future in-laws, but it was the tight, false smile Iris knew too well.

  “Speaking of that,” Leah began, her voice wobbling a little. “I was hoping to talk to you a little more about some ideas I had for the foundation. Since I’ve been back home, I’ve been thinking about how I might combine my expertise on the farm with the educational work you do.” She looked at them hopefully.

  Adele cocked her head. “I’m not sure I follow you, dear.”

  But Lance was nodding. “Let’s hear her out.”

  Leah took a deep breath. “My mother and I have been toying with the idea of turning our farm into a CSA. You know, a community supported agriculture venture?” She paused. “There are plenty of CSAs outside of the Seattle area. It’s a great opportunity to get some of the kids from your foundation some hands-on experience in the community. I was thinking we could look into a work-study program on a farm out there?”

  The two exchanged a glance. “But our foundation is the Special Olympics.”

  Iris knew what Leah was getting at. Despite their confrontation, she silently cheered her sister on.

  “I understand. But given my own area of expertise, I was thinking we could start a program for some of the special needs kids. That involves educating them about the local food business, and fosters life skills. Something that goes beyond just the sports aspect of it.”

  “Interesting,” Adele allowed, looking quizzically at her husband.

  “I like that you’re thinking outside the box,” Lance added.

  “Though, right now our focus is on fund-raising,” Adele said. “As we’ve already discussed, fund-raising is critical to the programs we offer. And it’d be a good way to get your feet wet.”

  Stephen, who’d been listening thoughtfully to both sides, finally weighed in. “Leah has many talents as well as some fresh ideas that I think would really benefit the foundation.” He smiled at her reassuringly. “Let’s pick a better time to sit down and discuss them.”

  But Leah wasn’t quite through. “I’m in awe of the work you do,” she told Stephen’s parents. “And I’m honored to be included in it. But I’m more of a people person than an office person.”

  Good idea, Iris thought to herself. She wanted to get out of there. Lance shook his empty drink glass gently. Iris could sense any interest they may have had in her sister’s ideas melting along with the ice in his glass.

  “Have you had a chance to tour the farm yet?” Iris interjected, in an attempt to lend a little support. “It’s hard to believe that Leah and my mother launched the business just two years ago.”

  “Huh.” Adele, seeming not to have heard, reached past her and touched Leah’s hair. “Darling, are you sure you want to wear this flower? It’s looking a little wilted around the edges.”

  Leah put a shaky hand to the lily.

  “She looks beautiful, Mom,” Stephen interjected, stepping forward and drawing Leah’s hand away from the lily in question. Iris loved the man for it.

  Adele shrugged. “Well, of course she looks beautiful, darling. She’s always beautiful. I was just saying . . .”

  Just in time there was the gentle chiming of a dinner knife against glassware. Bill Standish had positioned himself formally at the head of the table. “If I may,” he began, clearing his throat. “I would like to thank all of you for coming this evening to celebrate Leah and Stephen’s union and the joining of our families, most especially. We welcome Stephen, Adele, and Lance wholeheartedly into our home. And into our lives.” There was a murmur of approval. “Tonight, my lovely wife has created a feast for us to savor, and I invite everyone to join us. Let it be the first of many family dinners together.” Always the gentleman, Bill came forward to kiss Adele and shake hands with Lance.

  “And another toast, if I may.” Lance lifted his glass heartily. “We are grateful to be merging with the Standish family, a fine New England clan, if I do say.” There was a pause as guests chuckled and murmured their approval. “And we have an announcement of our own to make. As many of you know, our family runs the Willets Foundation for Special Olympics. We are thrilled to invite Leah, a promising young woman who we think has a promising future, to join our foundation as head of national fund-raising.”

  Iris’s heart pounded in her chest, drowned only by the eruption of clapping. Across the way, Bill and Millie were poised on the patio’s edge, their expressions hovering somewhere between uncertainty and false cheer. Stephen was grinning, looking at Leah expectantly. But Leah’s paper smile was answer enough.

  Iris waited until Leah was able to break free from the congratulations and well wishes around her. She caught her at the bar.

  “How’re you doing?” Iris glanced around and lowered her voice. “That was a lot for the Willets to unload on you tonight in front of everyone.”

  Leah took a glass of champagne and tossed it back. “It’s an opportunity,” she said flatly.

  “You’re kidding, right? They basically arm wrestled you into a job in front of your whole family.”

  Leah set the champagne down on the tray, smiled sweetly at the bartender, and took another.

  “Iris, you have to stop.”

  Iris was genuinely confused. “But I just heard you tell them that you had some farming ideas you wanted to propose, and they didn’t even listen. Instead they made you fund-raising chair.”

  Leah shook her head. “They didn’t make me anything. Stephen’s family is different than ours, Iris. There are some sacrifices that you have to make when you join a family like that.”

  Iris stepped back. “I’m sorry. So you’re telling me that you really want that job?”

  Leah met her gaze. “I’m telling you to butt out.” And with that she brushed past Iris.

  “Iris!” Trish appeared suddenly at Iris’s elbow.

  “Thank God you’re here. I don’t think I’m going to survive this dinner.”

  “Sure you will.” Trish did a quick spin. “Now tell me, how do I look?” Her apricot dress was stunning against her dark curls and tanned skin. “It’s new. I figured if we’re going to strike it rich with this cookbook, I could splurge on a little treat for the ol’ girl.” She looked down at her highlighted cleavage. “And these girls, too!”

  Iris smiled. “You’re stunning.” At least some measure of rescue was here. They found their seats at the table, which to her dismay were directly across from Millie, who looked less than celebratory as she flopped down in her seat and glared at the empty plates in front of them.

  “Where is the food?” she hissed across the table at Iris.

  Iris looked around, flummoxed. “Isn’t the kitchen staff on it?”

  But the look on Millie’s face warned her not to argue. “Come with me. Now.”

  Once in the kitchen her mother dropped her calm demeanor like a hot plate and began simultaneously directing the staff and interrogating Iris.

  “Did you know anything about this fund-raising job? I had no idea your sister was joining the Willetses’ foundation.”

  “No, Mom. I swear. Leah doesn’t exactly tell me everything.”

  “What about her work on the farm?” Millie pulled a pair of mitts right off the server’s hands and tugged the oven door open to inspect the chicken herself. “I wish you’d talked her out of it, Iris.”

  “How could I? She never told me!” But the words were lost on her mother, who was distracted by the food.
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  “Iris, get the chicken to the table, quick, before it’s cold.” She draped a towel on Iris’s arm and shoved a platter into her hands.

  Warily, Iris maneuvered toward the door, holding the juicy platters away from her silk shirt. As soon as this godforsaken dinner was over, she was going back up to her room with a bottle of wine.

  “Don’t spill!” Millie called behind her.

  “I’ve got it, Mom,” Iris snapped, then instantly regretted it as she realized too late that the patio door was latched, and she hadn’t a free hand to open it.

  “Um, Mom . . .”

  There was a clatter of pans behind her. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” her mother cried. “The basil biscuits!” A large cloud of smoke filled the kitchen.

  Desperate, Iris glanced at the chef, who’d conveniently ducked into the pantry. “Um, can somebody help . . .”

  “Let me.”

  Iris turned and found herself staring up at Cooper Woods. His hair was still damp and he smelled like soap. The platter tipped in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “Is that how you greet all your guests?” He grinned, then reached quickly to right the platter. “Your father asked me. I hope that’s all right.”

  This was not how Iris had pictured facing Cooper. Not after last weekend’s Vermont debacle and her subsequent week in hiding. Certainly not coming to her rescue with a plate of chicken. She’d been so engrossed in just trying to get out of bed each day, and in distracting herself with the cookbook, that she’d pushed Cooper Woods out of her mind.

  Or so she thought.

  “Iris, get the salads!” Millie shrieked.

  Cooper raised his eyebrows playfully. “Go on, Iris. Get the salads.”

  Reluctantly she surrendered the chicken, and even more reluctantly followed him outside with her mother’s salads. Luckily, the guests appeared unaware of the kitchen chaos on the other side of the wall. Iris snuck a glance at Cooper as he settled the chicken platter before her father, greeting him with a clap on the back. She tried not to watch as he returned to her end of the table, taking his seat on the other side of Trish.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said, greeting everyone.

  Leah’s eyes rested on Cooper a moment too long.

  “So, Cooper, I didn’t realize I’d have the pleasure of seeing you tonight,” Trish said, nudging Iris.

  Iris nudged back.

  “Pleasure’s all mine,” he said, looking directly at Iris. He lowered his voice. “I missed you in the barn this week. Things okay?”

  “I-I wasn’t feeling well,” she stammered, glancing away. Iris tried to focus on the gorgeous dishes being passed around the table, instead of the swirl of unsettling emotions around her.

  Adding to them, Millie set a platter down in front of Iris and leaned in, her voice a sharp whisper. “What is Cooper Woods doing here?”

  Leah was watching, her eyebrows also raised in question.

  “Dad invited him,” Iris whispered back defensively. But even as she said it, Iris realized she was relieved that her father had invited Cooper. Thrilled, in fact.

  Millie leaned in again, too close. “I know you’ve had a rough week, dear, but this isn’t the evening to be inviting just anyone.”

  Iris had had it. It had been all she could do to pull herself together for this dinner. Now, here she was, polished and grinning for the guests like one of those wind-up monkeys with cymbals. While her own marriage was in the toilet! And then Cooper appears, charming and handsome and the rescuer of dinner plates. And finally, here’s Leah, who has an amazing man on her arm, and a rock on her finger, but for whom it still doesn’t seem to be enough. And Millie, her own mother, who can’t get past her platters of food and heirloom linen to notice the crises rising like a wave around her. Yet, despite it all, Iris had swiped on lipstick and showed up at the table. If it were up to her, she thought, she deserved a fucking Oscar.

  Iris bit her lip, trying to temper the fury she felt at all of them in that moment just as Millie reached over and deposited a large spoonful of curried couscous on her plate.

  “Mom, no thanks.”

  “But why not? It’s a beautiful dish. I made it myself,” she said, a little loudly.

  “It is beautiful,” Iris said, lowering her voice. “But you know I don’t like curry.”

  Millie scowled. “Oh, just have a few bites, Iris. You’ll love it. It’s Leah’s favorite.”

  And just like that, Iris lost it. “Fabulous. Then Leah can have mine!” Abruptly, Iris reached across the table through the oversized floral centerpiece and snatched her sister’s plate. With one audible scrape she dumped the offending mound of salad onto it and slammed it back on the table before Leah, who jumped in her seat.

  The conversations halted. At the head of the table, her father cocked his head tentatively. “Iris?”

  “What?” Iris barked. “It’s Leah’s favorite!”

  • • •

  In the safety of the bathroom, she turned the faucet on and let it run, bracing the pedestal sink with both hands. There was a gentle rap on the door.

  Iris groaned.

  Trish poked her head in. “Boy, you weren’t kidding,” she joked, closing the door behind them. “Dinner at the Standish table hasn’t changed a bit.”

  “You’re not helping.” Iris patted her cheeks with cold water.

  Trish smiled sympathetically. “You’d better get out there. Plus, I think Cooper’s wondering where you went.”

  Cooper. Iris wondered how much he’d seen. And what he could possibly be thinking.

  A moment later, there was another knock at the door.

  “I’m coming,” Iris groaned, pulling the door open. Only it wasn’t Trish.

  Millie’s face was pinched. “Are you sulking? Because you’re missing Leah’s special night.”

  “Mom. I need a minute.”

  “You’ve taken plenty already. And for the record, I did not appreciate that scene.” Millie spun on her heel.

  Iris stared after her mother’s departing figure. She closed the door again and pressed her forehead against the mirror. Then banged it.

  She realized someone was hovering outside the door again. This time she threw it open.

  “Mom, I’m not in the mood . . .”

  Cooper Woods leaned against the door frame, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Well, remind me not to make you couscous,” he said, breaking into a slow smile.

  Iris winced, flushing. “Sorry. My family is driving me crazy.”

  “Isn’t that what family’s for?” Before she could answer, he reached around with one hand and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind Iris’s ear. His fingers lingered a moment, touching her cheek.

  Iris blushed. “Um, did you need to use the bathroom?”

  “No.”

  Suddenly Iris couldn’t avoid it any longer. She’d never been good at playing games, and here was Cooper Woods, touching her hair, in her mother’s bathroom no less. “Listen, about Vermont . . .” she began.

  “What happened? I thought you’d said you were coming with me.”

  Iris frowned. “I was. I mean, I wanted to, but then you took Leah.”

  Cooper’s brow wrinkled. “Only because she came up to the barn and said you couldn’t make it.”

  “What? You didn’t invite her?”

  “No. I figured you’d changed your mind. Leah insisted on coming along instead.”

  Iris shook her head. It was suddenly too warm in the doorway. And Cooper Woods was standing so close.

  “Are you okay?” Cooper asked. He leaned in, searching her expression.

  “I just . . .” Her voice trailed off as their eyes met.

  “You just what . . . ?”

  “I just need . . .”

  “This?”

  Cooper leane
d forward and pressed his lips against hers gently. His mouth was flushed and sweet, like a summer peach. Exactly what she’d imagined. It was the whole summer, coming to a breathless, heady halt between them.

  But they were interrupted. “Iris, where are you? Dessert’s ready.” Leah rounded the corner of the butler’s pantry, a stack of delicate ironware dishes in her hands, the ones their mother reserved for special occasions. She halted, and the dishes rattled precariously. “Oh,” she said, her eyes moving from Iris to Cooper as they stepped apart.

  Iris spoke first. “Let me help with those.” She reached for the plates, which Leah surrendered without question. Her gaze had fallen hard on Cooper, who jammed his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat.

  “I was just washing up,” Iris explained, drawing her sister hastily back out to the patio, where the others were waiting.

  Leah said nothing, but as everyone sat around the table, passing tiny plates of impossibly red strawberries, Iris stared at her lap, unable to contain her smile. She would not steal a look at Cooper, two seats away, who she knew was studying her. Nor would she look at her sister, whose curious gaze felt like an intense weight. The moment was hers, and though she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt, the unmistakable smile she struggled to contain between her aching cheeks was pretty damn telling.

  Eighteen

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. All night Iris tossed and turned in bed like a restless schoolgirl. He’d kissed her. Cooper Woods had kissed her.

  Her mind shot back to the kiss, again and again. The fullness of his lips. His warm breath, which she’d inhaled as they parted.

  But then came the aftershocks. Leah’s interruption, and the pained look on her face. Had she once kissed Cooper Woods like this? Was she mourning something that Iris was only tasting for the first time?

  But most pressing and terrifying of all was the one question Iris refused to consider, could not consider, until daylight came and brought with it some perspective. Iris was still a wife. A mother. And she took pride in that. It confirmed that, despite all, she had not fallen weak as Paul had. She had not given in to loneliness or doubt or ego at her family’s expense. And now this kiss. Of all the questions that swirled through her head as she tossed among the sheets that night, there was one Iris kept returning to. What did this make her now?

 

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