Return to Willow Lake (29 page)

Part Five

M
UST
-D
O
L
IST
(
LAST
ONE
,
PROMISE
)

really
fall in love

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving
someone deeply gives you courage.

—L
AO
T
ZU

Epilogue

Moments before the wedding was to begin, Sonnet Romano
shuddered with a wave of nervousness. “Mom,” she said, hurrying over to the
window, which framed a view of Willow Lake, “what if I screw up?”

Her mother turned from the window. The misty light of a rainy
afternoon shrouded Nina’s slender form, softening her features like an airbrush.
She looked fantastic in her form-fitting dress of champagne-hued damask silk,
her dark hair still short, beautifully styled and highlighted with a sweet spray
of flowers. Reconstructive surgery had given her back her figure, and despite
the fatigue of having a nine-month-old, she was glowing.

“You’re not going to screw up,” Nina said. “You’re going to be
fabulous. You look amazing in your gown, you’ve memorized everything you’re
going to do and say, and it’s going to be the best day of your life.
Everything’s ready. We just have to wait until all the guests arrive.”

A chorus of squeals came from the adjacent room, where the rest
of the bridal party was getting ready. Daisy was matron of honor, of course, and
Sonnet had asked her half sisters, Kara and Layla, to take part. Daisy’s son,
Charlie, served as ring bearer, taking his duties seriously. He’d insisted on
wearing not just a tux, but a top hat as well.

Sonnet felt a thrum of emotion in her chest. She was about to
marry the love of her life. It was like a dream come true, only better. Zach had
come back into her life when she didn’t even know she needed him. It had taken
her a while to listen to her own heart; in all the bustle and haste of her
career, she’d grown so distant from who she was and what she wanted. Now she
understood exactly what she needed, and it wasn’t an impressive resume or
important friends or a list of accolades. It was making a life with Zach—her
best friend, the love of her life, the keeper of the deepest secrets of her
heart, the one person she would share everything with, from here on out.

If only she could get through this day. She paced back and
forth, the yards of tulle swishing around her legs. “I might need to pee
again.”

“You don’t need to pee. You just went, and it’s a huge pain in
that dress.”

She was right about the dress. Only a short time ago, Daisy and
Olivia had helped her in the ladies’ room, forming a forklift with their arms to
hoist her up and hold the gorgeous dress out of the way. It was a full ball gown
with a train, as ornate and multilayered as the towering wedding cake from Sky
River Bakery.

Before that magical night by Willow Lake, she had never dreamed
of being this kind of bride—the fai
ry-tale kind, with all the
trappings, from the tiara crowning her still-short hair, right down to satin
dancing shoes encrusted with crystals. Previously, she’d pictured herself doing
something tame and well thought out—a tasteful dress that could be worn again, a
quiet transaction at city hall.

But being in love with this much passion and joy had given
wings to her heart—and to her imagination. She’d wanted it all, the gown that
could barely fit through the doorway, the candlelight ceremony, the party
complete with a live band called Inner Child, friends and family from near and
far. There would be a surprise appearance by Jezebel herself. And most of all,
the bridegroom who had changed her life.

She joined her mother at the window. “The rain’s not letting
up.”

“Rain on a wedding day is good luck, or so I hear.”

“That’s a nice thought.” Her heart sped up as she saw guests
arriving up the walkway to the rustic pavilion below. Umbrellas popped open like
flowers in the rain. With a thrill, she saw all the people who had come to see
her and Zach—Kim and Bo Crutcher, who had given them such good advice. Olivia
and Connor Davis, now eager to move forward with plans to create a summer
program at Camp Kioga for city kids. And Jezebel herself, dressed in a simple
but fabulous dress of royal blue, more diva than hip-hop star.

“There’s my father,” she said, pressing so close that her
breath fogged the window, and her pulse kicked up another notch. With his
trademark military bearing, Laurence Jeffries strode toward the pavilion.
Instead of carrying an umbrella, he wore a dress blue overcoat and an officer’s
bullion visor hat. An aide accompanied him a few steps behind. People nearby
noticed, and Sonnet could see the buzz of excitement ripple through the crowd.
“Okay, I have to admit it’s pretty cool, having a United States senator come to
my wedding.”

Despite Delvecchio’s attempt—aided by Orlando—to taint
Laurence’s reputation, her father had won the election by a healthy margin. The
voters had cast their ballots in support of her father’s leadership skills, his
vision and ideas rather than focusing on his past. Orlando, who had expected to
ride Laurence’s coattails to the nation’s capital, had been fired. Sonnet and
her father had settled into a cordial but somewhat distant relationship.

“He is one good-looking senator,” her mom said. “Reminds me of
Denzel Washington. How did he take it when you said I’d be walking you down the
aisle, not him?”

“He was okay. I think he gets it.” There had been a time when
Sonnet would have felt obligated to include him in the traditional role of
giving away the bride; she used to be afraid to flout her powerful father. Now
it was easy to be in her own skin. Her father was a brilliant man, but he wasn’t
wise. Her mother had been present for every moment of Sonnet’s life, and it was
only appropriate that she be the one to do the honors.

“I’m happy for you that he came,” her mother said.

“Zach’s dad is coming, too,” Sonnet reminded her. “I hope it
won’t be too weird for him.” Since his release from prison, Matthew Alger had
been living in the nearby town of Phoenicia. He had a job teaching bookkeeping
(of all things) at a small community college and was putting his life back
together. Zach went to see him once a week for a game of cribbage.

Lightning seared the sky, and the arriving guests hurried
faster up the main walk. “I wonder if that’s considered good luck, too,” Sonnet
mused.

“It’s lucky you didn’t insist on being outdoors,” Nina said. “I
have no problem with an indoor wedding on a day like today.”

“Me neither.”

“The pavilion downstairs looks incredible. Have you seen
it?”

“Olivia didn’t let me look. She wants me to be surprised.”
Knowing Olivia, who had exquisite taste, Sonnet felt confident it would be
fantastic. Her only input had been to choose her two favorite colors—the bright
orange of Cheetos and the cool blue of window cleaner. Having filmed more
weddings than he could count, Zach had only two requests—great food and a great
party. Sonnet was pretty sure they could deliver on that.

“Good idea,” Nina said. “I can’t wait to see the look on your
face when you see it. Your smile is my sunshine, remember? Come here, you.” Nina
opened her arms and Sonnet gratefully slipped into her mother’s embrace.

“This feels nice. I’m glad I came back.” Sonnet turned her face
to the warm breeze blowing in through the window. “I hated the reason I came
back—you getting sick—but I’m happy about what happened while I was here.”

“I got better and had your little brother, and you fell in
love. Seems pretty perfect to me.”

“It feels pretty perfect. I thought I was supposed to be off
saving the world.”

“There are lots of ways to do that,” Nina said. “Your
children’s program at Camp Kioga is going to change lives, just the way it did
last summer.”

“Only not on camera,
please
,” she
said.

“Zach’s got other plans for his camera,” Nina said.

“We’re going to make it work, Mom,” Sonnet vowed.

“There was never any doubt.”

The window had fogged up, so Sonnet used the side of her hand
to wipe a spot. “Zach just got here,” she said. “Mom, come look.”

Even now that Sonnet was used to being in love with Zach, she
still found the sight of him thrilling, especially today. He was the tallest guy
in the wedding party, hurrying toward the door amidst his buddies.

In a tailored tux of black superfine, he moved with lanky
grace, his long pale hair flowing out behind him like the cape of a superhero.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

“Why didn’t I see it?” she asked her mother. “When we were
growing up and going through school together, why didn’t I realize he was my
future?”

“Because we humans are complicated, aren’t we? Sometimes it
takes a long time to see what’s been in front of us all along.”

“And then I almost lost him,” Sonnet said, her breath misting
against the glass. “I got scared and I almost blew it. Don’t let me do that
again, Mom.”

“I’m not worried. The two of you are going to be great
together.”

“I just remember standing here before Daisy’s wedding, thinking
he had no possible place in my future. I’ve been trying to figure out how he
changed from an old high school friend into Prince Charming. Then I realize I’m
the one who changed, not him.”

“I feel another embroidered pillow coming on.” Nina laughed at
Sonnet’s expression. “Kidding.
Maybe
.”

Olivia and Daisy helped Sonnet down the stairs to the anteroom
located just outside the main hall. One by one, the members of the bridal party
stepped through the double doors, made a pivot turn, and headed down the aisle.
Sonnet couldn’t see what was happening but she knew the hired videographer, a
kid just out of film school who had been handpicked by Zach, would capture every
moment.

A few minutes later, Sonnet found herself alone with her mother
again. Just beyond the doorway, the ceremony was about to get underway. Murmurs
of excitement and a drift of sweet music reminded her—she was about to get
married. She would leave this place a different person than the one who had
entered.

A flurry of butterflies took flight inside her. “What do you
say?” she asked her mother. “Shall I go get married?”

Nina grinned. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Then let’s do this thing.” Sonnet’s voice was on the verge of
breaking. She took a deep breath.

Nina’s grin turned to a soft smile, and her dark eyes took on
an expression that pulled Sonnet into days gone by, when it had just been the
two of them, making their way in the world together. There had been hard times
and frustration, but plenty of love and laughter, too. A wave of gratitude swept
over Sonnet. “Mom, I’m glad you’re here.”

They both knew what she meant by
here
.

“So am I,” Nina told her, and tears sparkled in her eyes.

“You’re going all mushy on me, aren’t you?” Sonnet said,
fighting the prickle of emotion in her throat.

“Yeah, baby. I am. My fabulous, amazing daughter is a
bride
. My mind is blown. I hope I can remember what
I’m supposed to do and say.”

“You will, Mom,” Sonnet assured her. “You’ll rise to the
occasion. You always do.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

The music gently shifted to the song Sonnet had chosen for
their processional. Eddie Haven, the lead singer of the band, launched into an
acoustic version of a sweet song to accompany Sonnet and Nina down the
aisle.

“Wow,” said Sonnet, “it’s really happening, Mom. Finally.”

“Yes,” Nina agreed. “Finally.”

They paused to collect themselves one last time. A small,
mullioned window in the anteroom offered a view of Willow Lake. The rain’s
silvery mist softened the colors of the trees and gardens outside, and a muted
hush made it seem like the world was holding its breath. The sheer beauty of the
lake, nestled between the gentle swells of the Catskills, made her heart ache.
She was home now.
Home
.

Nina took her hand and together, they stepped through the
door.

* * * * *

Acknowledgments

A very special thank-you from me and PAWS of Bainbridge
Island to the ever-generous Judy Hartstone and the adorable Jolie.

Winston Churchill once said, “When you are going through hell,
keep going.” Life threw me a lot of curveballs during the writing of this book,
and I am deeply grateful for the steady support of my beloved family and
friends. You know who you are, so I won’t embarrass you by telling your names to
a bunch of strangers.

Writing a book can be a lonely business. Picture yourself
shouting down a well, wondering if anyone can hear you. A lot of the time, the
process feels something like that. Thank heaven for my first readers, fellow
writers Elsa Watson, Sheila Roberts, Lois Faye Dyer, Kate Breslin and Anjali
Banerjee. I’m also privileged to work with the best in the business—Lindsey
Bonfiglio of Beyond Novel, my editor Margaret O’Neill Marbury and the team at
MIRA books, and Meg Ruley and Annelise Robey of the Jane Rotrosen Agency. For
someone who makes a living with words, this is a hard thing to admit—there are
no words.

Keep reading for an excerpt of
Fireside
by Susan Wiggs!