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“And you considered all of these things before taking this
step,” he said, his voice taut with disapproval.

“Actually, no. The only things I thought about were the fact
that Mom needed me and I needed a job. And if your opponent has a problem with
that, they’re really digging to find some way that makes
you
look bad.”

He glanced at his watch. He had to go. Of course he had to go.
He had a family waiting for him. A wife and two daughters who were
not
going to embarrass him.

Sonnet decided to leave preemptively, something she never did
with her father. Standing, she leaned down and placed a swift kiss on his cheek.
“I have to go,” she said. “I’m taking the evening train back to Avalon.”

As she walked toward the nearest subway station, she hoped he
would get over his anger at her. Orlando would understand. She soothed herself
with the thought. He’d be a lot more understanding, and maybe he’d find a way to
explain it to her father.

Chapter Nine

“You’re being
completely irrational,” Orlando said. So much for sweeping romantic gestures,
Sonnet thought. Stepping off the train, he’d looked as handsome as a prince. For
a moment she’d let herself fantasize that he had come to throw his arms around
her and pledge his undying love and support. No such luck. After a quick hug,
he’d scowled at her as though she was a naughty child.

“You know me better than that,” she said, miffed. “I’m never
irrational. And by the way, welcome to Avalon, my hometown.”

He gave a cursory nod out the window. “It’s cute.”

“In other words, you didn’t come here to see where your
girlfriend grew up.”

“Yes, of course, I do want to see it, but we have other things
to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“You’re ending your career over something that is going to be
resolved in a matter of months.”

“First, I’m not ending my career. I’m on hiatus. And second,
it’s not ‘something.’ It’s my mother. She’s sick. She needs me. That trumps
everything. There’s really no other decision to be made. I thought you would
understand.”

“Darling, I do understand. You’re scared. Cancer is scary
stuff. But think about it. Your mom needs the best doctors in the field, the
latest treatments, and I know you love her and I know you’re worried, but you
can’t give her that.”

“I can give her my support. My energy. It’s hard to explain,
but I really believe it matters.”

She pulled up the drive. This was not the way she’d envisioned
bringing her handsome boyfriend home to introduce to her mother. She’d pictured
both of them a little nervous, wanting the meeting to go well, wanting her mom
to see that she’d found someone she could be happy with, that her life—not just
her career—was moving forward.

Instead, here was Orlando, distracted and annoyed.

“Welcome to the inn,” she said, trying to keep a note of irony
from her voice.

“It’s gorgeous here,” he said. “But you have to know what
you’re giving up.”

She parked in front of the annex house. “And what I’m gaining.
This is everything to me, Orlando. I really want you to understand that.” To her
surprise, she felt a sting of tears.

And to her further surprise, he reached across the seat and put
his arms around her. “I do understand. I do.”

She shut her eyes, silently grateful that he was finally
showing some compassion. “Let’s go inside. My mom’s going to love you.”

* * *

“Don’t give me that crap.” Nina’s voice shot through the
house with sharp edges, just as Sonnet walked in with Orlando. “I won’t have it.
I won’t.”

“Fine,” Greg said, his voice taut with exasperation. “You pick
what you want for your chemo playlist, then.”

Sonnet glanced at Orlando, who shuffled his feet and looked as
if he’d rather be in line at the DMV…or anywhere else. “Come on in,” she said.
“They’re just getting ready for her first treatment tomorrow.”

She left him waiting in the foyer and found them in the study,
squaring off over a laptop and iPod. “Oh, good. You can save me from Greg’s
taste in music,” Nina said. “He’s loaded this thing with a bunch of new-agey
gong tones.”

“It’s supposed to be soothing,” Greg grumbled.

“I need Muse. I need Lady Gaga. David Bowie, the Clash,
something I can stand to listen to. Something that makes me want to fight.”

“Good for you. I’ll take care of it tonight,” Sonnet
promised.

Greg looked relieved.

“Now, can we drop the subject? There’s someone I want you to
meet.” She motioned them toward the foyer. “Orlando came to see me. He’s dying
to meet you.” Dying. Poor choice of words. She was going to have to think before
she spoke.

“Oh.” Nina smoothed a hand through her hair. She looked
harried, in jeans and sneakers, a shapeless top. Underneath that was the drain
from her lumpectomy, though the bandages and scars were camouflaged by the
blouse.

“You look fine,” Sonnet said, secretly hating the idea that her
mother was sick. “You’re the coolest mom ever.”

Greg was already with Orlando, pumping his hand and welcoming
him. “And here’s my amazing wife,” he said, stepping aside.

“Orlando Rivera,” he said, shaking her hand. “Sorry to show up
on such short notice.”

Sonnet held her breath. If he so much as breathed a word of
their conversation about her suicidal career move, she was going to smack
him.

“It’s all right. Come on in and sit down. What can I get you to
drink?”

“I’ll take a beer, if you have it.”

Greg headed for the kitchen. Orlando turned to Nina. “It’s good
to meet you at last. I feel as though I know you from everything Sonnet’s told
me about you.”

Nina smiled. “I want to hear all about you, too.”

The part she’d left unsaid was that Sonnet hadn’t told her much
about Orlando at all. She’d offered an overview of the obvious things—he was
charming, successful, handsome, had an interesting job…but Nina was the kind of
mom who asked hard, unanswerable questions, like does he cherish you? Does he
make you laugh? Does he kiss you for no reason? When you’re away from him, do
you feel as if an appendage is missing?

The truth was, Sonnet didn’t know these things about her and
Orlando yet. They’d been together for several months, sure. He’d given her a key
to his place, pardoned her when she’d lost it, and her father held him in high
regard. Sonnet considered this a good start. She fully expected the other
things—the cherishing, the passion, the yearning—to come with time. That was how
love grew, bit by bit. It wasn’t some big sudden, messy explosion like—

“I was sorry to hear about your diagnosis,” Orlando said to her
mom.

Sonnet cringed inwardly. Way to get to the point, Orlando, she
thought. Then again, it was the elephant in the room. If not for the diagnosis,
Sonnet wouldn’t be here, having put her life—and yes, her boyfriend—on hold. He
might as well bring up the topic and get it out of the way.

“I appreciate that,” Nina said.

He handed her a manila envelope. “At the risk of being
presumptuous, I wanted to give you this information on the Krokower Oncology
Clinic in Manhattan. My aunt is the medical director there, and they specialize
in hard-to-treat cases. If you like, I’ll arrange a meeting for you.”

Nina’s expression brightened. “That’s very thoughtful of you.
Thanks. I already have a treatment plan in place, but I’m always open to a
second opinion.”

“I want to do whatever I can to help,” Orlando assured her.

Sonnet felt a wave of warmth for him. “You never told me about
your aunt.”

“Dr. Davida Rivera,” he said. “She trained at Johns Hopkins,
practiced at the Mayo Clinic, and was a founding physician at Krokower.”

Sonnet wasn’t surprised. She’d already known he came from a
family of high achievers and apparently his aunt was no exception.

Greg offered Orlando a tour of the inn, including a walk around
the grounds. The place had been a run-down project when Nina had taken it on,
and she and Greg had fallen in love in the process of restoring it. That had
been after Sonnet left for college. Her family had grown to include the
Bellamys—Greg and his two kids, Max and Daisy—and she’d watched her mother’s
happiness expand into a kind of joy that simply hadn’t existed for them
before.

Sonnet had a vivid memory of Nina just before she married Greg.
“Pinch me,” she’d said. “Make sure I’m not dreaming this, because this feels too
good to be true. I almost feel guilty, being this happy. There might be hell to
pay later.”

They’d laughed together, both certain the future was ripe with
promise. Sonnet would go off to college, unburdened by the idea that her mom
would be left alone with an empty nest. Nina would make a life with her new
husband. Maybe you weren’t supposed to look too far into your own future, Sonnet
thought. If you did, you might talk yourself out of going toward it.

She and her mom put together a meal of tagliatelle with Nina’s
famous red gravy. “Well?” Sonnet asked. “What do you think?”

“He’s nice. Good manners.
Very
good-looking.” Nina made an exaggerated fanning motion with a tea towel. “Your
father introduced you?”

Sonnet took out a block of parmigiana and the grater. No
self-respecting Romano bought cheese that was already grated. “Uh-huh. He wasn’t
matchmaking. I don’t think so, anyway. But Orlando and I hit it off, right from
the start. Our first date was at a campaign fundraiser, but it was a really good
date—cocktails at Smithson’s, and swing dancing. He’s an excellent swing
dancer.”

“The real question isn’t what I think of him,” her mother said,
“but what
you
think of him.”

“He’s amazing,” Sonnet said. “He’s smart and interesting and
has a cool job. Incredible apartment, too, and he comes from a good family.”

“People say that all the time—he comes from a good family. What
does that mean?” her mom asked, tossing a generous pinch of salt into a pot on
the stove. “I wonder if people say that about you.”

“If they don’t, they should,” Sonnet said. She thought about
the one time she’d met Orlando’s folks. She’d been invited to their weekend
place on Long Island. They’d quizzed her about her background and education, her
girlhood in Avalon, her famous father. The visit had felt more like a job
interview than a social occasion.

“We’re a good match,” Sonnet told her mother. “It’s too soon to
tell if we’re…God, Mom. I can’t talk to you about this.”

“I thought we could talk about anything.”

“We can. But…Orlando and I…well, I think we’re going to fall in
love, but we’re not there yet.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Yikes, Mom.”

“Seriously, if you want to be in love with him, then you should
have a plan for that to happen, right? You’ve always been such a planner,
Sonnet.”

“We’re both so busy with work,” she said.

Nina dropped the fresh pasta into the pot. “Don’t ever get too
busy to fall in love,” she said.

“I want to focus on you, Mom. On you getting better and giving
me a baby brother. Do you know how cool it is that I’m going to be a
sister?”

“It’s totally cool. And good job changing the subject.” She
reached over and expertly turned down the flame under the pasta a split second
before it boiled over.

During dinner, they talked about Orlando’s work, which was a
relief to Sonnet. She wasn’t sure what to say about her temporary job on a
reality show.

“General Jeffries is definitely the front-runner in the
senatorial race,” he explained. “But it’s not a slam dunk.”

“That surprises me,” Nina said. “His opponent—Dean? See, I
can’t ever remember his name—”

“Johnny Delvecchio,” Greg supplied.

“Isn’t he in the meatpacking business?” Nina asked. “I can’t
imagine he’s more qualified than Laurence.”

“He’s not,” Orlando said. “Not by a long shot. But politics can
be a nasty business. Lately he’s been focusing on digging for dirt about the
general.”

“For heaven’s sake, Laurence is a complete boy scout,” Nina
said, then stopped herself. “Oh.” Comprehension dawned on her face. “You mean,
I’m
the dirt?”

“My God, no,” Orlando said swiftly. “Has someone from
Delvecchio’s campaign approached you?”

“No,” Nina said, “and if anyone did, they wouldn’t hear
anything negative from me. They wouldn’t hear a single thing, because I’m not
about to get involved.”

Orlando topped off his water glass, and relief softened his
eyes. “I’ll drink to that. We’re all going to need to drink. Because Avalon is
going to be hosting the next debate.”

“What?” Sonnet felt a dull thud of shock in her gut. “They’re
holding a campaign debate
here
?”

“Hey, back when I was mayor, I would have welcomed a senatorial
debate in this town,” Nina said. “The publicity would be great for the
economy.”

“You’re not mayor now,” Sonnet said. “I hate this idea.
Orlando, can’t you do anything about it?”

“Delvecchio’s choice. He knows he’s weak in Ulster County, so
his people chose this town.”

“Let me guess. They chose it because they’re hoping to stir up
trouble for my father. My God, Orlando, how could you let them?”

“It’s not up to me. If we protested or fought them on it,
they’d claim we’ve got something to hide. We need to make a preemptive move.
Delvecchio’s really reaching for something, and the only possible thing he can
dig up is your dad’s blunder when he was a dumb seventeen-year-old at West
Point.”

“His blunder. Excuse me, but as the result of that blunder, I’d
like to term it something else.”

“Good point,” he said, missing her irony. “We can even put that
in his talking points if the topic comes up. We’ll have him call it a
blessing.”

“Oh, so now I’ve been upgraded from blunder to blessing. Thanks
for that.”

“We need a story line for you, too. We can’t just say you gave
up a directorship at UNESCO to be a script girl—”

“I beg your pardon. Script girl?”

“Whatever. Let’s just call it a temporary position you took in
order to help your mother through a serious illness.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re using my mom’s cancer in
order for my dad to look good to voters.”

“Not at all. Your dad simply needs to tell the truth. There’s
nothing equivocal in this story.”

“Except that it’s private.”

“When your father is running for national office, nothing is
private. You get that, Sonnet. I know you get that.”

“Just keep the controversy away from my wife and my family,”
Greg said. He spoke quietly, but with a conviction that made Sonnet glad all
over again that he was her mom’s husband.

“I’ll do my best,” Orlando said. “And of course General
Jeffries will, too.”

Sonnet studied Orlando, feeling a mixture of exasperation and
confusion. He was a complicated guy, she thought. On the one hand, he’d come
armed with useful information that might really help her mom. On the other hand,
he was also using the opportunity to deal with a campaign matter. Nothing was
ever simple with Orlando. At least she’d never be bored.