Iris glanced at the historic houses as she drove out of the village center, trying to picture the two of them coming into town, like a regular couple on a regular date. “That’d be nice.”
“How’s seven? I’ll come by the house.”
Iris flinched. The house. Her mother and father’s house. The image of a fresh-scrubbed Cooper knocking on Millie’s door to ask permission to take her forty-year-old daughter out for a night on the town flashed in her mind.
“No!” she said. “I mean, why don’t I meet you there?” Iris could see it now: Cooper knocks and the whole family flings the door open. Bill in his plaid nightshirt, blinking through his smudged glasses. Leah, scowling over his shoulder. But it was Millie’s face that sealed the deal, with its guilt-inspiring force field that only her mother could engulf them in. No, Cooper Woods could not come pick her up at her parents’ house. She wouldn’t let him anywhere near that door.
“It’s no big deal,” Cooper said amicably.
Iris would have to spare him. Even if it meant bringing up the almost-as-awful subject of where they stood. “The thing is, I don’t how my family would feel if they thought we were going out,” Iris explained sheepishly. “I haven’t exactly told them anything about us yet.” She blushed deeply, realizing she was showing her cards. “That is, if there even is an ‘us.’ Not that we’re officially together. But, you know . . .” Well, the whole deck of cards had fallen on the floor now.
“Well, then we definitely need to have dinner,” Cooper said, his voice reassuring. “Seven o’clock at the Inn?”
Iris breathed a sigh of relief. “Seven o’clock, it is.”
She was just pulling up to the house when the phone vibrated again. She swept it to her ear. “Let me guess, did you change your mind?” she joked.
“Mommy?”
For a second Iris was thrown. “Lily? Is that you, honey?”
“Of course it’s me.” Lily laughed. “Who else would it be?”
Iris didn’t dare say. “No one I’d rather talk to,” she allowed truthfully.
“I’ve got big news,” Lily announced.
Iris went along, smiling at Lily’s conspiratorial giggle. “You do? What is it?”
“Daddy said we can come up to the farm early! We’re coming tomorrow!”
Iris squealed. “That’s wonderful, honey. I can’t wait!” It was the best kind of surprise.
“Oh, and I finished second place in the swim meet,” Lily gushed. “I even got a trophy. It’s not as big as Carly Watson’s, she placed first. But it’s gold.”
Iris swiped at her eyes. “Oh, I’m so proud of you! Bring the trophy with you. Your grandparents will love to see it, too.”
Sadie was more reserved than her sister when she came on the line next, but Iris was sure she detected a level of excitement in her voice, which was more than she’d heard all summer. “So, what are we going to do up there?” she wanted to know.
“Anything you want,” Iris promised her. “We can swim and take Grandpa’s canoe out. I can’t wait to show you Aunty Leah’s gardens. Oh, and your junior bridesmaid gowns will be in!”
“Cool,” Sadie said, and Iris was suddenly so grateful for this one-worded allowance.
There was no mistaking, however, the chilled reserve of Paul’s communication.
“So, I guess you know the kids are coming up a few days early,” he said. “Is this a good time?”
“Yes, I can’t wait.” Iris waited for him to continue, wondering suddenly at the changed date. The sooner the better. But was there another reason Paul was sending them up sooner than they’d planned? Like a reason with a name and a face?
Iris pushed the thought away in disgust and tried to focus on the logistics. After all, the kids couldn’t exactly deliver themselves to New Hampshire. “And you?” she asked cautiously. “What’s the plan?”
Paul’s response was abrupt, like a Band-Aid being ripped off. “No plans. As soon as I drop them off, I’m coming back home.”
“Of course.” It was a stinging reminder, but Iris realized for the first time that she did not want it any other way. The terrain between them had changed. All she needed right now were the kids. She wouldn’t wonder what he was doing back at home, alone. Or not.
“Did you receive the papers?” he asked.
Iris thought she heard the smallest tremor in his voice, but his directness left no room for empathy.
“I did, but I haven’t looked them over yet. Dad wanted his attorney to review them first.”
Paul chuckled. “You mean Arthur Bowen? That guy with the stutter from the golf club?”
Arthur, an old friend of Bill’s who led a long-standing and well-respected firm in town, had assisted the family in their legal matters over the years just as happily as he had been to join them for dinner and drinks on any given weekend. Paul would remember him in the unkindest light, of course. Which made Iris’s response easier. “I have to protect myself,” she replied curtly, reminding Paul that he was the enemy in all of this. “And the kids, too. We’ll get to it when we have a chance.”
“Whatever you say, Iris. See you tomorrow.” And the line disconnected.
• • •
The Inn at Hampstead was on the national historic registry, and it was one of Iris’s favorite places. As kids, she and Leah had referred to it as the “wedding cake house,” because of its expansive white facade and sweeping porches. The old Victorian rested on a hill at the northern end of town, overlooking one of the smaller lakes. Just beyond the Inn, a family-owned vineyard swept out behind it, like a lush green cape. As a child Iris had always imagined herself being married there outdoors among the gardens, instead of in the formal ballroom of the Copley Plaza in Boston, insisted upon by Paul’s family, and as she walked up the flagstone path she couldn’t help but feel significance in the fact that Cooper had chosen it as the site for their first real date.
The outdoor patio was open for summer dining, and she crossed her fingers, hoping he’d reserved a table for them there.
Iris found Cooper standing by one of the large white columns, just outside the main inn door. But she almost missed him. Dressed in a navy sports coat and crisp khaki pants, Cooper was beyond handsome. Seeing her, he stepped forward and took her arm. “You look beautiful.”
As they took their seats Iris tried to focus on the shimmering water views. To her surprise her hands trembled a little as she settled her napkin across her lap. Why was she suddenly feeling nervous? She had not hesitated when he leaned her against the truck and kissed her adamantly; she knew intimately the flat plain of his stomach, the curve of his neck where she rested her head when they held each other. But those were private moments, stolen in secret places around the farm. Where she didn’t care that her hair was windblown or her fingernails had dirt beneath them. Here, sitting among other crisply dressed couples at the restaurant, she felt suddenly exposed.
When the waiter finished telling them the specials, she glanced shyly over her menu at Cooper.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
Iris lifted one shoulder. “Nothing. This is perfect. It’s just so . . .”
“Official? Like we’re on a first date or something?” Cooper asked, as if reading her mind.
“Yes. But in a good way,” she added quickly. “It feels like we’re ‘coming out’ or something.”
Cooper smiled. “I know. We should’ve gotten this out of the way a long time ago. Shall we order some wine?”
“Please!” Iris said with a laugh.
Two glasses later, they’d placed their orders, each for the lobster risotto. Iris settled back into her chair as the wine worked its magic.
“It’s been quite a summer,” she said, studying Cooper across the table. His normally tousled hair was styled close to his head, giving him an even more crisp appearance in the candlelight.
/> “It has,” he agreed. “The best summer I can recall in a long time.” He met Iris’s gaze. “It’s not over yet.”
Even in the growing twilight, Iris was sure her blush was apparent. She turned to the water as relief filled her chest, knowing that Cooper felt the same way. And that he didn’t want the summer to end either. But there were certain things they couldn’t avoid any longer.
“My kids are coming up,” Iris said. “Tomorrow.”
“Really? That’s great. I didn’t realize they’d be here so soon.”
“Neither did I,” Iris admitted. “But I’m excited. Other than their time at camp, I’ve never been away from them for more than a night or two before. It’s been strange.” She looked him in the eye. “That first week of July, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’m not used to being alone, doing whatever I want, whenever I feel like it. As nice as it was,” she added meaningfully.
“You must’ve felt like you were missing a limb without them.” Which Iris couldn’t have described better herself. She smiled, grateful that, despite the fact that he had no children of his own, somehow Cooper seemed to understand.
“But it must’ve been good for you to have that time, too. To get a handle on things a little,” he went on. He adjusted the napkin on his lap. “Splitting up with my ex was the hardest thing I went through. I don’t know how people do it with kids.” Cooper was treading carefully, but he wasn’t shying away from the obvious. It was her chance to be honest with him.
“It’s been awful,” Iris admitted. “But I haven’t exactly been home dealing with it, either. Being up here let me get back to myself in a way I would never have been able to do had I stayed at home.” She paused, placing her hands on the table. “But I still have to go back and face the music at some point.”
Cooper placed a hand on top of one of hers. “Iris, you do whatever you have to. What you’re going through can chew a person up and spit them back out. Give yourself time.”
“I know. I just want you to know that I’m really grateful to you.” She hoped she was getting through; she didn’t want to end what they had. In fact, she couldn’t bear the thought of that. Did he understand?
Cooper pulled his hand away gently. “Look, it goes both ways. When Sherry and I divorced I thought I was done with all of this.” He opened his arms, gesturing in a motion that circled the two of them. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel something like this again.”
Iris nodded eagerly.
“But I can’t be selfish about it,” Cooper continued. “I know what you’re about to go through, probably better than you do. And I want you to know that if this is all we have, I’m okay with that.”
Iris sat back, sifting through his words. They were not unkind. But she felt the sharp twist of disappointment.
“Besides,” he added. “We come from really different places.”
Iris laughed. “What are you saying? We both grew up here.”
“You know what I mean.” He looked out at the lake. “Your family is great. But I don’t think your mother would approve of me.”
Iris shook her head. “My mother doesn’t approve of anyone. But she does like you, Cooper. You’ve done such great work for them.”
“Exactly. I work for them.”
“So? You’re talented. You preserve history. You should take pride in that.”
“I do. I lived differently in Colorado—I had the six-thousand-square-foot mountain house with the view, the cars, the ski condo. And the sixty-hour workweeks that kept me from enjoying any of it. I forgot what was real, living like that.”
Iris had known Cooper had worked somehow in finance, but he’d never shared much about it. She hadn’t realized that the sort of life he’d left behind was much like the life she lived now, in Boston.
Cooper leaned forward. “I like living simply now, Iris. I like waking up to the lake and working with my hands. And being my own boss. It’s a rich life, by my definition. But there aren’t any Mercedes parked in my driveway. And while I enjoy a round of golf, I don’t plan on joining the club.” He looked at her earnestly.
Iris flushed. She’d never felt that way about Cooper, and was flabbergasted that he was made to think she might because of the family she came from. “You can’t honestly think that those things are important to me after spending the summer together?”
Cooper looked at her softly. “No, I don’t think that. But you live a certain way and raise your family in a certain way in Boston, and while I can appreciate it, it’s not something I can offer you. Whatever happens, we need to be realistic.”
Iris sat back in her chair, touched. She loved this man for who he was, and for how openly he was offering himself to her. It didn’t matter to her what kind of house he lived in, or what kind of car he drove. But he was right. It was a different life. Just as Millie had been hinting.
The waiter arrived with their lobster, which they ate over amicable small talk amid the other diners on the porch. But with each delicate bite of her dinner, Iris realized she could not be realistic. She couldn’t help wanting to hang on to this. As she pretended to listen to Cooper talk about a restoration project he was bidding on in town, her mind wandered restlessly. Maybe they were too different. Maybe to him this was never more than a summer romance that he’d think back on fondly over the long winter months. Maybe she was completely delusional.
Dessert came, along with the growing darkness, and afterward they lingered on the porch sipping nightcaps. Cooper pulled his chair around near hers and settled his arm across her shoulders. “So, I guess this is our last night alone,” he said.
“There’ll be more,” Iris replied, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. “We’ll make time.”
Cooper nodded in the growing darkness. “Of course we will.”
Iris tried to breathe. The big issues were finally out in the open, at least for the most part. And as grateful as she was to have tied some of the loose ends, she couldn’t help but feel the strands were hovering near, swirling in a disconcerting state, fluttering between them. How desperately she wanted to circle back with her nimble hands and tie up each and every one.
Twenty-Five
Lily Bean!” Iris was overcome as her younger daughter streaked across the lawn toward her. “Let me look at you,” she cried, holding Lily at arm’s length before pulling her in tight again. Lily’s nose was densely freckled by summer, her face a tawny peach. Her braids were frayed and blonder than Iris recalled. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”
“And you!” Iris exclaimed, releasing Lily and pulling Jack in. Jack wrapped his arms tightly around Iris’s waist and held on. “My beautiful boy,” she breathed, kissing his head.
“Okay, okay, Mom.” He laughed.
Sadie strode calmly toward her, lips pressed together, but unmistakably pleased.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, allowing Iris to pull her in for a hug.
“What did you do to your hair?” Iris asked, instantly regretting the words as soon as they’d popped out. Oh, why did she have to ruin the moment with her big mouth?
“What?” Sadie touched her head, as if trying to remember. “Oh, my haircut. But that was, like, forever ago.” Forever ago. A time that suddenly presented itself in the form of freckled noses and strange haircuts.
“Well, I love it. It’s super cute.” It was a sophisticated cut, one she’d expect to see on a teenager. Which, she realized with suddenness, Sadie was, of course. Oh, this was harder than she’d thought.
Behind them the porch screen door slapped shut, followed by a chorus of greetings on the other side. She was glad her family had allowed her to keep the greeting to herself, if only for a moment. “Everyone’s inside, waiting for you.
Iris let Sadie go ahead, watching the way she adjusted her messenger bag over her shoulder, tucking her hair carefully behind her ear as she always did, a ritual Iris had watch
ed her perform whenever she dropped her off at the middle school door or at cheer practice. Iris smiled: she would never tire of looking at her children. Their simplest gestures, so familiar and comforting. It was only then she remembered Paul, who was now coming up the walkway.
Don’t cross your arms, she reminded herself as he approached with the kids’ bags. But her mind blanked. “You made good time,” she said inanely.
“Hello, Iris.” He stopped just short of her, Lily’s pink Hello Kitty duffel dangling precariously from one shoulder. Iris took him in quickly, making mental note of his tan face. But his brow was furrowed. And were those circles under his eyes? She smiled tightly. Not her concern anymore.
“Let me help you with those.” She reached forward awkwardly, but Paul shook his head.
“Thanks, I’ve got it. I’ll just leave them on the porch, if that’s okay.”
They glanced simultaneously up at the porch in question, listening to the flow of laughter through the windows, and suddenly Iris understood. Paul would not be coming inside. “Well, sure. If that makes you more comfortable.”
Iris stepped aside, allowing Paul a wide berth. She trailed him up the steps, useless and tentative. Why did she always feel this way in his presence? At the top of the stairs Paul dumped the bags like he was unloading a great burden, then turned, mopping his brow.
“Okay, then.”
“Would you like a glass of water? Or maybe to freshen up before the long drive back?” Iris certainly didn’t want Paul lingering any longer than necessary. But now here he was, and this was something they were going to have to figure out sooner or later. She supposed he should at least be able to relieve himself without animosity.
“No, thanks. I’ve got an iced latte in the car.”
Iris frowned. Since when had Paul started drinking lattes? He hated coffee. Not your concern, she reminded herself. Again.
“Well, I think this is everything,” he said, scanning the fallen luggage briskly. He turned to the stairs, pivoting away from her with a rush so intent, it drew her ire.
The Lake Season Page 23