“We go way back, Sonnet and I,” he explained. “We’re friends,
that’s all.”
“Yeah, she told me. Best friends, right? Then you should have
no problem explaining to her that you’re falling in love with her.”
He laughed, though hearing the words made his heart speed up.
“No way. That’s not what’s happening. She’s got a boyfriend anyway. Or she did,
last time I checked.”
“Maybe you should check again.”
He ignored a surge of excitement. “I’m not interested in
getting involved with Sonnet even if she did break up with her boyfriend,” he
insisted, “and I’m sure as hell not going to push her into something with me.
She and I are…we’re not right together. She’s only here for her mother. And I’m
only here until…” He let his voice trail off. He was here. He’d always been
here. It was home.
“You waiting for a better offer? What’s better than this?
What’s out in the world that you can’t find right here?” She gestured at the
bank of windows facing the lake. It was too dark to see outside, but the various
computer monitors showed Willow Lake in all its beauty.
“I haven’t been anywhere,” he said. “How would I know?”
“You’re a small-town guy at heart,” Jezebel said. “I can tell.
You might think you want to escape, but look what you’re doing with your life.
Every choice you’ve made has kept you here—your jobs, your friends. Your crazy
notion of making up for what your father did.”
He swallowed, half wishing he hadn’t told her about that.
“You could walk away at any time,” Jezebel continued, “but I
don’t think you want to do that. I think you want to live in Avalon in a nice
house, with a white picket fence and kids everywhere. You want the family you
never had growing up.”
He felt a twist of yearning in his gut. The damn woman was
right. This was his world, it was where he’d always wanted to be. He just didn’t
want to be alone here.
She went over to one of the computers and opened a music
program. “I’ve been working on a new song, just for you. I call it ‘Don’t Make
Me Wait to Tell You.’”
“You’re a secret romantic,” Zach said, flushing. “Who
knew?”
“Don’t let on you know that about me. It’d ruin my bad-ass
image.”
“Is that what it is? An image? All an act?”
She shrugged. “I’m an entertainer. It’s my job. For a while, I
got all caught up in some persona that wasn’t me. It was the public me. I was
confused and it got me in trouble. Here’s what prison did for me. It let me
figure out who I was out of the limelight. Now I’m not confused anymore. I know
what I’m doing. It’s a good feeling. You should try it sometime.”
“I’m not confused. I know what I’m doing, too.”
“Uh-huh.” She eyed him skeptically.
Chapter Twenty
“I brought
something for your mother,” Zach said, coming up the walk to Greg and Nina’s
house.
Sonnet put aside her laptop. She’d been sitting at her favorite
spot on the porch swing, putting together some information for the PR firm
engaged by Mickey Flick Productions. It was strange to think the production was
winding down. The long hours and weeks of filming had yielded a huge archive.
From that, the series would be created.
She stood and folded her arms. “More pot?”
“Not today,” he said simply.
In his skinny jeans and sneakers, his black T-shirt and shaggy
hair, he looked ridiculously sexy. No matter how hard she tried to view him as
the old Zach, the kid she’d grown up with, she couldn’t deny that he’d
changed.
“What, then?”
“C’mere.” He held out his hand.
She hesitated, then took it and followed him to the van. Their
hands linked together with startling ease. She felt a shiver of tenderness
mingled with confusion. Zach opened the door and took out a small molded crate.
“I found something,” he said.
“A wild animal? What—”
“A dog. She was wandering around on a back road between here
and Camp Kioga.” He opened the crate and lifted out a squirming, silver-gray
bundle. “I dropped her off at the Humane Society, but no one claimed her. So I
picked her up today.” The dog scrambled out of his arms and danced around their
feet.
In spite of herself, Sonnet laughed at its antics. “And you’re
bringing this to my mom…why?”
“To see if she wants to adopt her. I can’t keep a dog at my
place; it’s a rental. So I thought maybe your mom and Greg—”
“Zach, that’s awesome. What a fantastic idea.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I thought you’d yell at me.”
“I never yell at you.”
“You yell all the time.”
“I do not.” She caught herself raising her voice, and spun on
her heel. “Come on. Let’s see if Mom wants to adopt her. She and Greg just
finished dinner.”
The little dog skittered up the walkway as if she already owned
the place, and ran through the door when Sonnet opened it. Her mom and Greg were
in the TV room, settling in for the evening. Nina had removed her wig for the
day. Sonnet was used to seeing her without hair, and in fact, she thought Nina
looked kind of cool, her head as smooth and pale as a new moon. She quickly
glanced at Zach and put up a hand. “Oh, hey,” she said, then noticed the dog.
“Who’s this?”
“She’s a stray,” said Zach. “I just got her from the Humane
Society. She’s all fixed, shots, housebroken. You interested?”
“You brought us a dog?” Greg asked.
“He brought
me
a dog,” Nina said.
“I mentioned that I wanted to get one. And yes, I’m totally interested.” Leaning
down, she patted her thigh. The dog jumped lithely into her lap, clambering over
the mound of her belly, put her paws on Nina’s shoulders and seemed to grin
straight up at her.
“I’m going to call her Jolie,” Nina said decisively.
“As in Angelina Jolie?” asked Zach.
“
Please
. As in Jolie Madame. It was
my mother’s favorite perfume. Jolie is French for pretty. Oh, Greg. Look how
pretty she is.”
Greg wore a pained but indulgent expression as he watched the
little stray snuggle up to her. It was a dog only a smitten mother could love.
There was poodle in the mix; Sonnet could tell by her curling silver fur. Yet
she also had the short legs of a dachshund as well as a mysterious combination
of other breeds.
“I think she’s a hit,” Sonnet said to Zach.
“I
know
she’s a hit,” Nina said.
“Thanks, Zach.”
“It’s not going to be too much, with the baby coming?” asked
Greg.
Nina laughed. “You can’t handle us?”
“Hey. I’m just worried about
you
.”
“After this summer, I can handle anything,” Nina said.
“Great.” Zach stuck his thumbs in his back pockets, looking on
like a proud uncle, then turned to Sonnet. “Give me a hand bringing her things
in?”
“Sure.” Sonnet followed him outside. “So I was talking to
Jezebel on set earlier,” she said, her nerves fluttering, “and she said I should
tell you I broke up with Orlando.”
His shoulders stiffened. “Why should you tell me?”
“Because we’re friends, right? We tell each other stuff. So I’m
telling you. If you want more detail—”
“Nope. Not too interested in the details of your breakup with a
guy who was never right for you to begin with.”
“You’re being annoying. I’m telling you something very
personal, and you’re being annoying,” she said.
“Are you devastated? Brokenhearted? Or are you over the
guy?”
“No. Just…disappointed in myself.”
“So is this an opening?” he asked bluntly.
“Zach!” Her cheeks felt hot. “I can’t deal with another
relationship in the middle of what’s happening to my mom.”
“Sure you can. It’s all in the motivation.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.” As they went to the van
together, she said, “This is really nice of you.”
“I’m nice,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve always been
nice.”
“Agreed.”
“Then why are you having such a hard time falling in love with
me?”
“I’m not.”
“Not what? Not having a hard time, or not falling in love?”
“Neither. Zach—”
“
Sonnet.
” Greg came out onto the
porch.
She froze. There was something in his voice and in his stance
that galvanized every cell in her body. Zach was standing very close. In a split
second, she took in everything—the way the wind lifted his hair and the ropy
muscles of his arms relaxing as he stopped with the box of pet supplies. The
sound of her own intake of breath and the crunch of gravel underfoot as she
turned to face him, telling him what his face already told her he knew:
“Something’s wrong.”
* * *
The hospital waiting room overflowed. Between the
Romanos and the Bellamys, visitors filled every available chair and bench,
though most milled around, walking up and down the hallway, talking in low
voices as they waited for news.
Sonnet felt nauseous with terror. Everyone clustered around
her, offering words of comfort and reassurance, but nothing penetrated. Nina was
beloved, that was why everyone had come, but there was no one in the world who
knew what Sonnet was feeling. This was her mom—her
mom
.
Nonna Romano sat amidst Sonnet’s aunts and uncles, her rosary
beads moving slowly, steadily and silently through her shaking fingers. On the
Bellamy side, Greg’s parents, Charles and Jane, were there, looking desperate
and exhausted. Like Nonna, they’d been ecstatic at the prospect of a new
grandbaby, though consumed by worry.
The tension and dread in the waiting room felt like a crushing
vise around Sonnet’s chest. She stood gazing out a window, her hands gripping
the sill. The hospital was located at the confluence of the Schuyler River with
the Hudson, with the Catskills rising in the distance. Sonnet could only stare
down at the parking lot, watching people come and go—workers in their scrubs,
visitors, patients, EMTs on call, hanging around the ambulance bay.
When Zach’s van turned into the parking lot, Sonnet felt a
slight easing of tension. She wasn’t released from her worry but a tiny bit of
the stress unfurled. It made no sense, but just the sight of him calmed her.
“I’m going to step out for some fresh air,” she said to no one
in particular, and walked over to the elevator.
She met up with Zach in the parking lot. He held out both arms
and she stepped into his embrace. They didn’t have to say anything; she could
feel his concern, and she knew he could feel her worry. They stood that way for
several beats, and then he stepped back.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Her water broke. The baby’s not due for another five weeks, so
his lungs are underdeveloped. The latest plan is to pump her full of antibiotics
and steroids to help the baby’s lungs, and hope she carries him a bit longer.”
Sonnet could honestly say she no longer hated the baby. It was nobody’s fault,
least of all the baby’s, that Nina had gotten sick.
Greg came out of the unit wearing wrinkled scrubs and paper
booties, a stunned expression on his face. No, she thought. Please God, no no no
no...
He leaned against the wall. The floor was so shiny, his
reflection shone in it. He took a breath and encompassed everyone in the waiting
room with a glance.
“It’s a boy,” he said. “Lucas Romano Bellamy and his mom are
both all right.”
There was a moment of breath-held silence. Then the waiting
room erupted with questions and congratulations, expressions of relief, laughter
and tears. Sonnet pushed her way toward Greg. “Can I see Mom?”
“Soon,” he said. “And you’re first in line. Where the hell is
Max? He finally has the brother he’s been wanting since he was little.”
“I’ll see if I can find him.” She took out her phone. Damn Max.
He was as unreliable as ever, thought Sonnet, probably taking his time getting
here in hopes of missing the drama.
Max picked up on the third ring. “Yo.”
“Where are you?”
“How’s Nina?”
“She’s okay. The baby, too.”
“Jesus. That’s a relief.”
“Where are you?” she repeated.
“Just getting here. Come down to the parking lot.”
“Max—” The call ended.
“Everything okay?” asked Zach, joining her in the elevator.
Before she could stop herself, Sonnet sagged against him,
overwhelmed by relief.
He didn’t say anything. Neither of them did while the elevator
whooshed to the ground floor. As the doors parted, she moved away from him,
trying to compose herself.
They stepped out of the elevator. At the same time, her
stepsister Daisy came through the revolving door. Squealing, they ran toward
each other and hugged.
“Oh, my gosh, it’s so good to see you again,” Sonnet said,
stepping back, studying her—blonde, smiling, her blue eyes shining.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Daisy said. “So Max told me your mom
and the baby are okay.”
“Yes. Let’s go right up. Did you come by yourself?”
“Uh-huh. First time leaving the kid home with their dad. It had
to happen sometime.” Daisy noticed Zach by the elevator. “Hey, you. Long time no
see.” She gave him a hug, too.
“It’s good to see you, Daze,” he said. “Hey, Max.”
As the four of them stepped back into the elevator, Sonnet was
overcome by the most amazing feeling. When friends and family pulled together to
support each other, some kind of magic happened.
* * *
“That shot is genius,” Sonnet said, looking over Daisy’s
shoulder at the computer screen. The two of them were going over raw files of
the photos Daisy had taken.
“Thanks. Although it’s not a stretch to do a good job on a
picture of a mother and her newborn.”
“My mom has a newborn,” Sonnet said. “That’s so…strange. In a
good way.”
Daisy had outdone herself, documenting the baby’s birth day.
Photography was not just her job, but her passion. Sometimes Sonnet envied her
the intensity of that passion. Unlike Sonnet, Daisy never questioned her own
career path. She just
knew.
“You look pretty happy in this shot.” Daisy clicked on a photo
of Sonnet holding the baby, a six-pound armful who had only spent a short time
in the NICU before being pronounced healthy despite being premature. “My lord,
that short hair looks incredible on you.”
“Think so?” Sonnet studied the screen. “Do you think I should
keep it short?”
Daisy clicked to a candid shot of her showing off the baby to
Zach. “
He’s
pretty crazy about it. He’s pretty crazy
about you.”
Sonnet flushed and looked away.
“What’s up?” Daisy asked. “The two of you…I mean, you’ve always
been close, but something else is going on now. I can tell. And you know what
they say—the camera doesn’t lie.”
“I can’t lie to you, either. I’m in trouble, Daze. Man trouble.
I broke up with Orlando.”
“Really? Ah, Sonnet. I’m sorry. I thought things were going
well for you two.”
“They were…but they weren’t. Things haven’t felt right in a
while. Still, you’re right. We were compatible. So even now, I don’t know if it
was the right thing to do.”
“Don’t second-guess yourself,” Daisy advised. “Do what your
heart’s telling you to do.”
“Zach and I are… I can’t stop thinking about him and it’s bad.
It’s messing with my head.”
“I think you’re not in trouble at all,” Daisy said.
“It’s not that simple. We don’t… We can’t…”
“Or maybe you can. Ask yourself—not me.”
“Zach brings my mom pot and puppies. He makes me laugh and
isn’t always rushing around, busy all the time.” She hesitated, rubbed her hands
up and down her arms. “He holds me when there are no words. But Orlando got her
a consultation with one of the best oncologists in the country. Am I an idiot
for not choosing him?”
“How about you choose based on how you feel about the guy, not
how much he’s helped your mom?” Daisy asked reasonably.
“Sure. But at the moment, I really can’t separate the two. Ah,
Daisy. I don’t know what to do.”
“Don’t rely on my advice. When it comes to choosing between two
guys, I’m no expert. Took me forever to figure it out.”
“I don’t have forever.”
“Slow down. Relax. Don’t make any big decisions until you
finish up here in Avalon.”
“That’s the thing. I’m pretty much done. I’ll stick around a
while longer to help Mom, of course, but both she and Greg are adamant that they
want their privacy back. And here’s the scary part. I have no idea what I’m
going to do next.”
* * *
Though on the small side, the baby had a loud, lusty cry
and a voracious appetite, with the face of a wizened apple. He had dark hair and
adorable elfin features, and a deep, dark-eyed stare that was strangely
mesmeric.