Return to Willow Lake by Susan Wiggs Page B

youthful indiscretion, one for which the world had forgiven him.
Some people were lucky that way. They got away with things.
    Other than that, his resume was stellar. Through sheer
determination, he’d risen from humble roots as the son of a single mother who
got by on public assistance. In school, he excelled at both academics and
sports, winning a coveted appointment to West Point. From there he’d climbed the
ladder of leadership through the ranks of the military. He married well, in
terms of his career, and as far as anyone knew, it was a loving partnership. His
two lovely daughters wore the polish of private schools and an international
lifestyle. Sonnet was the only blot on an otherwise spotless record.
    She hated being the blot.
    * * *
    “How is this going to work?” Sonnet asked Orlando later
that night as they got ready for bed. He’d calmed down about the key, and she
felt excited to be at his place, carefully placing her belongings in a small
corner of his walk-in closet. “With you being here and me going overseas?”
    “Guess we’ll rack up some air miles.”
    “I don’t mean booking flights. I mean, how will it work?”
    “You mean how will we stay in this relationship.”
    He’d called it a relationship. He’d teased her about a
proposal—or was it more than teasing? They were making progress, she felt sure
of it. Progress toward a goal—that was a good thing, right?
    He was the most cautious guy she’d ever known, choosing his
words as if they were going to be chiseled in stone. Saying something like
“relationship” was serious business to a man like Orlando. She tended to be more
impulsive, and he balanced her.
    “Thank you,” she said. “That is precisely what I mean.”
    “Besides visiting, there’s email and Skype,” he pointed
out.
    “And that’s enough for you?”
    “It will have to be. Unless you’re willing to give up the
fellowship.”
    “Or you’re willing to give up the campaign,” she said.
    “Don’t be silly. It’s not an either/or situation.”
    She tried to figure out what she was feeling. Neither of them
seemed too upset by the prospect of a lengthy separation. Yet they were in a
relationship. He’d given her a key to his place, and even though she’d promptly
lost it, they were still a couple. Weren’t they?
    “As a matter of fact, it’s probably a good thing we don’t give
Delvecchio one more thing to latch on to.”
    “Orlando—”
    His phone rang, and he grabbed it. She gritted her teeth.
Couldn’t he for once let it go to voice mail?
    He answered, listened briefly, then handed her the phone. “It’s
your mother. She’s been trying to reach you.”
    Sonnet grabbed it. “Mom, hey. I, uh, lost my phone today—”
    “Oh, no wonder I couldn’t get you. Sorry to call so late.”
    “Is everything okay?”
    A beat of hesitation passed. “Why do you ask?”
    “Daisy said you had news. Geez, Mom.”
    “She’s right, honey. I’ve got a little news. Are you… Um, is
this a good time to talk?”
    “It’s fine. Just tell me, Mom. You’re freaking me out.”
    “Have a seat, Sonnet.”
    * * *
    Sonnet carefully set the phone receiver back in its
cradle. She felt strangely disoriented as she approached Orlando. He was now
busy checking his email on his iPad. “Um…there’s been a change of plans.”
    He barely looked up from his screen. “Yeah?”
    “Are you listening?”
    “Yeah. Sure, babe.”
    She hesitated, so filled with the news from home she couldn’t
think straight. She wished she felt closer to Orlando in this moment. She longed
for their relationship to be further along, so that she could tell him anything
and everything. But when she tried to come up with the words to explain, she
felt frustrated before she even began.
    Meanwhile, he’d gone back to reading on his iPad, the bluish
glow of the screen outlining the angles of his chiseled features.
    “Orlando.”
    “Uh-huh?”
    She abandoned the idea of explaining everything to