by Susan Wiggs
Her expression must have given her away. Layla touched her arm. “Listen, I know you probably think I’ve always had the perfect life with our dad. Don’t get me wrong—he’s amazing, but he’s the same guy with me as he is with you—demanding and difficult. My mom’s a perfectionist. I feel the pressure, too. It’s not easy.”
“Wow, I… Thanks for saying that.” She felt a tiny bit closer to her half-sister. “Have some more chocolate,” Sonnet said, handing over the whole box. She herself had lost her appetite entirely. “I’d love to hear more.”
A short time later, she stood in the doorway of her father’s study. The room was like the Oval Office in miniature, with a massive desk set in front of the bay windows, a braided navy area rug, a sitting area with a sofa and two wing chairs. On a credenza were several laptops, each with a different window open on the monitor. The space seemed to radiate power and control; in that way it was perfectly suited to her father.
He was at his desk, writing something by hand on a yellow legal pad. He was left-handed, like Sonnet. She used to always like the fact that they were both left-handed.
“I came to say goodbye,” she said.
He smiled and stood up. “You must have a lot of packing to do.”
“You would know.”
Her tone caused his smile to fade. “Know what?”
“Everything that’s involved in getting me to leave the country.”
A brief, dry laugh escaped him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re taking issue with me about something?”
“Because I am. You engineered the fellowship for me—both times. Just to get rid of me during your campaign.”
“You are eminently qualified for that fellowship. Past winners went on to worldwide recognition.”
He was a politician, she reminded herself. A good one. He would admit to nothing. He was trying to flatter her instead of taking responsibility. He had concocted a plan to send her overseas to avoid having to answer questions about his past. Then when she turned down the fellowship, he’d tried getting her engaged to Orlando to up her respectability quotient. When that backfired, he went back to the fellowship solution. She’d never have been offered it on the strength of her qualifications alone. She should have known better.
“I really don’t want to argue,” she said. “I only want you to know, I’ve made other plans for myself. You’re a really wonderful candidate, and I don’t doubt for a moment you’ll get elected, despite what your opponents say about the past. I’m not at all worried about your chances.”
“Sonnet—”
“It’s all right. I’ll let you go now. I can see you’re busy.” She felt strangely liberated. She was no longer his to manipulate. She couldn’t be swayed by his influence. In his way, he cared for her, but it was so very, very limited. His love for her was conditional. It depended on her ability to strive for lofty goals, to wear achievements like the leaves of a laurel wreath.
Out of habit, she checked her phone for messages. There was a text from Zach: Your buddy Orlando leaked the video. Ask him about it.
Very slowly, she put the phone in her bag. “About that video…”
His brows came together in a frown. “Like I said, Orlando’s handling it.”
“You mean, Orlando handled it. How about you ask him how it was leaked in the first place?”
“What are you saying?”
“He leaked it. I don’t know how, but I think I know why.”
“He’d never leak anything so damaging to my campaign.”
“Unless,” she said, thinking about Orlando’s true colors, “he’s doing a favor for Delvecchio.” Yes, she thought. Orlando was all about attaching himself to the winner. Now that Delvecchio was the frontrunner, he might easily shift his loyalty. Because to a guy like Orlando, loyalty was a moving target.
“That’s preposterous.”
“Then you won’t mind asking him,” she said simply.
“Fine, I’ll do that. But you’re reaching, Sonnet.”
“Ask him.”
“I said I would. The quicker we put this behind us, the quicker we can move on. You’re still planning to accept the fellowship,” he stated.
She nearly laughed. He simply didn’t get it. “No. Like I said, I have other plans.”
“Listen, I understand you’ve let something upset you, but don’t let the children of Bhutan suffer because of it. They need you, Sonnet. You were chosen for a reason. This could open so many doors for you.”
It was the same spiel she’d heard ever since she’d gone to American University and he’d taken her under his wing. She had to admit, he was persuasive. Like any good politician, he knew how to draw someone into his way of thinking.
The fellowship would be a feather in her cap for sure, and a way to make her father proud, but she was done living her life for her father. “I’ve always been a planner and in a way, that’s been my downfall,” she confessed to him. “I’ve been so busy making plans and sticking to them like glue that I forgot who I was. I lost my way. I only hope I can find my way home.”
“You are home,” he said. “Your mother is all right. That was your goal when you went back to Willow Lake to take care of her. Now it’s time to get on track once again.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.” She went to the door. “Good luck in the election. You’ve always had my vote.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Back at her apartment, Sonnet did a final walk-through, moving like a wraith through the place she’d lived for the past five years. She’d cut herself loose from everything—her father, her career path, the life she thought she was supposed to have. The old Sonnet would have panicked at the prospect of having a life with no plan. Now she felt liberated—albeit excited and nervous—at the prospect of all this open white space.
There was sadness, too. She had walked away from Zach. And he had let her. She came across a stack of mail, mostly catalogs filled with items she would never, ever buy. Among the letters was a card from her mother, including a shiny silver disk without a label. Nina’s handwriting was strong and sure. Her brief message read:
Zach didn’t tell you everything. Here’s a video I asked him to make for me—and for my family. There were things I wanted to record in case things went badly for me. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you, baby. You’ve been there for me even when I didn’t know I needed you. I love you more than words can say.
Sonnet’s hand shook as she put the disk into her computer. The screen resolved into a shot of her mother sitting on the porch of her house, with trees blowing in the background. It was the start of a beautifully produced video chronicling her mother’s pregnancy and illness. There were short and long sequences showing Nina’s journey, punctuated with some of her favorite things—music and nature, views of her world, even a cooking lesson and a few housekeeping tips she’d gleaned from running the Inn at Willow Lake. There were family stories Sonnet had heard before, and a good number that were brand-new to her. Nina was very much herself—frank and funny, emotional. There were a couple of parts showing her completely in despair and filled with terror—bruised and exhausted from chemo, speaking through painfully cracked lips, and a post-op sequence that was brutal to watch. She put everything in front of the camera, holding nothing back. Sonnet could only imagine how Zach felt, filming it.
Like all of Zach’s work, the video was sensitive and honest. He’d been working with Nina all along, and he’d never said a word about
it.
Sonnet clicked on an icon toward the end of the video series. There was her mother, looking completely exhausted, her cheeks hollowed out by fatigue. She wore a scarf and no makeup. Her smile was tremulous but still glimmering with hope. “I’ve been counting the blessings in my life,” she said, “and I’ve lost count. It’s a good problem to have, right? But it helps me realize that it doesn’t matter what happens. If everything ended in the next moment, I would still be blessed. I’m completely bald, I’m eight months pregnant and I have only one breast. And this morning, Greg told me I’m beautiful. It’s kind of a miracle, right? Actually, the miracle is not that he said that. It’s that he made me believe it.”
The screen blurred before Sonnet’s eyes. What her mother was saying was something so obvious, yet so difficult to grasp. It was terrible, what her mother had gone through, but now, Sonnet truly understood the gift of being pushed to the brink of despair. There were only a few things that truly mattered. Family and friends and connection. Understanding and selfless love.
* * *
Zach went to the Sky River Bakery to celebrate making his final payment of restitution to the town of Avalon, and to wait for the last person he expected to see here—his father.
Matthew Alger had made parole.
Everything felt completely surreal to Zach. It was ironic that working on a project about the town his father had defrauded had ultimately given Zach the power to make amends. Big Girl, Small Town had turned out to be a surprise hit for the network. He sat listening to the familiar sounds of the bakery—acoustic music coming from the speakers, the murmur of conversation, the hiss and gurgle of the espresso machine. A pair of workers in white aprons emerged from the swinging doors, wheeling a stainless steel cart with a tall wedding cake surrounded by flowers. Around the edge of the cake was a message written in icing: The beginning of forever.
Good luck with that, thought Zach, looking at his phone. He wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing, sending the message to Sonnet about Orlando Rivera. Zach knew he hadn’t been mistaken. Perla Galetti, his assistant on the Big Girl show and resident digital geek, had pinpointed the ISP of the “anonymous” video uploader. For a smart guy, Rivera didn’t seem to understand that nothing done on the internet was truly anonymous.
Sonnet hadn’t called him back or responded to the message. Was she pissed at him? Or had she already left to go save the children of the world? Damn. He wished she could see there were children who needed saving right in her own backyard. But that wasn’t exotic or prestigious enough, he supposed.
“You look like you could use some cheering up,” said Glynnis, bringing him a freshly baked kolache and a big mug of coffee.
“I’m cheerful,” he said. “I’m cheerful as hell.”
“Sure.” She set his tab on the table and moved on.
He reminded himself of something Nina had said in one of her video monologues—there are some things you don’t have a choice about, but there’s plenty you can choose. Like happiness. Like focusing on the positive.
And there were a lot of positive things happening for Zach. Executives, test audiences and critics couldn’t stop talking about Big Girl, Small Town, already known by its initials, BG/ST. The impact of Jezebel, her connection with the kids and the strange juxtaposition of an urban icon with the beauty of Willow Lake were irresistible. There was even talk of award nominations, because despite the commercial intent of the series, a deep message of hope and healing through good works shone through.
These days, offers poured in for Zach and he had to engage an agent to juggle everything. For the first time in his career, he could name his price and his program. The industry considered him a seasoned and sought-after professional. He had offers to work all over the place—L.A., Vancouver, Austin, New York…New York.
He pictured himself going to Sonnet and telling her he wanted to be at her side no matter where her travels took her…but it just didn’t work like that. If they couldn’t figure out how to put their lives together, even love wouldn’t save them. Still, he kept thinking about what Jezebel had said, that there was a reason he stuck around Avalon, and it wasn’t just due to a lack of options. This was the home of his heart.
The bell over the door chimed. Somehow, without even looking up, Zach knew it was his father.
Sure enough, Matthew Alger walked into the bakery. He was pale and moved with a certain tentativeness, as if he was feeling his way through the dark. His trousers and shirt bore creases of newness, though he wore the same scuffed shoes and wristwatch he’d had at the start of his prison term. No one in the place seemed to recognize him. People moved on, Zach thought. Everyone was absorbed in his own drama.
“I did it, finally,” said Matthew, spreading his arms. “I made parole.”
“You did.” Zach rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Have a seat. You still a coffee drinker?”
“You bet. It’s really good to see you, son.”
As they sat together drinking coffee, watching people come and go, a subtle rhythm took over. It was as if no time had passed. They were just a guy and his son, talking about the weather, the local baseball team, the merits of the strawberry rhubarb pie his dad had ordered.
“So you filmed a hit TV show,” Matthew said after Zach filled him in on the production. “That’s great, Zach. Sounds like everything is on track for you.”
“Yep. Sounds that way.”
“Actually, it doesn’t. What’s bugging you?”
“Sonnet Romano,” Zach muttered.
“Hey, I remember her. She was always a go-getter. Pretty little thing, too.”
And that was when the floodgates opened. Zach found himself spilling everything—the crazy reunion at Daisy’s wedding, the summer they’d spent working together, the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Matthew grinned from ear to ear. “You’re in love. That’s nice to see.”
“It won’t work. She’s on her own path, and I’m on mine. She’s only ever wanted to get away from this place, travel the world, do humanitarian work. And I…hell, I can’t see myself fitting into that picture.”
“Then look harder,” his father said simply. “There was one great love in my life—your mother. I ran her off, and didn’t realize I’d lost something special until it was too late.”
“You never told me that.”
Matthew shrugged. “I’m telling you now. Maybe you’ll learn from my mistake. If you love Sonnet Romano, then you’ll do what you have to do to be with her. If you have to follow her halfway around the world just to be with her, you do it. Just don’t let her walk away.”
“You’re oversimplifying it,” Zach said.
“You’re overcomplicating it,” his father replied. “Hell, while she’s off working on her international projects, you could be with her, filming and documenting.”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind for myself.”
“Love is compromise, and this sounds like one worth making.”
Zach finished his coffee and paid the check. “Prison made you smarter.”
“I had a lot of time to read. Promise you’ll give it some thought, son.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Now I don’t know what I’ll do,” Matthew said. “They’re setting me up with an employment counselor to see what I’m qualified for.”
“You’re going to be all right,” said Zach.
“I hope you’ll come
around and see me. Maybe we’ll have a game of cribbage.”
“Cribbage sounds good.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sonnet returned to Willow Lake to take care of one final piece of unfinished business—Zach. The idea of facing him and telling him what was in her heart was terrifying, but if she didn’t speak her truth, she knew she would always regret it. She’d learned a lot from her mother about having emotional courage and the clarity that could bring.
The time she had spent in Avalon had brought her unanticipated gifts, but that hadn’t become clear to her until she had tried going back to her old life. At Willow Lake, she’d found herself with blank space in her life, space that used to be filled with rushing around with work and trying to be the daughter she thought her father wanted. The time away gave her good breathing space she hadn’t known she needed. She had not been feeling like herself for a long time, she just felt like someone who was trying to stay on a path she hadn’t picked, trying to convince herself that she’d made the right choice. In reality, she’d been using all the busy-ness and chaos of work and the city to avoid thinking about the things that really mattered, like the importance of living a life that felt like the right fit for her, not for someone else. She’d spent such a long time chasing down her father’s dream that she’d forgotten to chase her own.
Everything had changed, from the inside out. She felt completely different, excited and nervous about the future, but not at all scared. It was funny, she’d been scared without knowing it, scared to face a future that might not be big enough or impressive enough for people like Orlando or her father.
There was a peculiar sense of peace that came from knowing she’d finally made the right choice for the right reasons. Even if she discovered that Zach had left, or that he didn’t want what she hoped he’d want, she would always have the peace of mind of knowing her future was going to be built on her own choices. There was a way to save the world starting right here, right now, with children like the ones they worked with at Camp Kioga. She didn’t need to travel halfway around the world in order to find kids who needed her.
