Return to Willow Lake by Susan Wiggs Page A

for a while, it appeared the lost
revenues were caused by the mayor’s mismanagement. Zach always appreciated that
she didn’t hold him responsible for his father’s misdeeds.
    “Sonnet’s here for the weekend,” said Nina. “Have you seen her
yet?”
    He kept a poker face. He had no idea what Sonnet had said to
her mother about the wedding incident. He and Sonnet were…what? They were
nothing anymore. They’d gone from friends to nothing in one night.
    Damn it. He missed her.
    He wondered what she’d said to her mother. That they’d had a
falling-out? That they’d had a one-night stand, which made it impossible to go
back to being friends, or…anything?
    Before that night, he might have asked Nina how Sonnet was
doing. Then again, he wouldn’t have to, because he’d know. Because they would
have called or sent text messages or emailed the way they’d always done.
    “Uh, no,” he said. Brilliant, dude. Just brilliant.
    “Well, she’ll probably call you.”
    “Probably,” he said noncommittally. Obviously Sonnet hadn’t
clued her mother in. That was good, then, he told himself. The internet rumor
hadn’t shown up on her radar, which meant it was probably nothing to worry
about. “What’s up?”
    “I have a little business proposition for you,” she said. “I
need to make a video.”
    “You came to the right place.” He tried to sound enthusiastic.
She probably needed a promo video for the Inn at Willow Lake, one of those
“escape and find yourself” pieces with soothing music and water sounds. Not
exactly Zach’s favorite genre, though he’d done plenty of it, and he was good at
it. With the Mickey Flick gig on the horizon, it was hard to focus on anything
else.
    “Herbal tea, please,” said Nina to the girl behind the counter.
“I’m avoiding caffeine,” she told Zach. “About the video—this might seem a
little self-indulgent….”
    “Try me.” He waited while she drizzled honey into a cup of tea
that smelled more like flowers than tea. When she finished, he said, “So what
can I do for you?”
    She snapped a lid onto the paper cup. “Let’s walk.” They headed
up the street toward Blanchard Park, a swath of green space bordering the lake.
Between the trees, the sunlight shimmered along the path, a byway for joggers or
people with strollers, the occasional slouching teenager or skateboarder. At
midmorning, it was uncrowded, the air filled with birdsong and the distant
whistle of the commuter train.
    “Okay, on to business,” Nina said. “I want you to document my
pregnancy.”
    Zach nearly tripped over his own feet. “Sorry…what?”
    She lifted her chin and kept walking. “I’m pregnant. And don’t
act so shocked. Women my age commonly have kids.”
    “I didn’t mean—”
    “Don’t worry. I’m just teasing. Everyone’s going to be
surprised when they hear. That’s why Sonnet came up from the city this
weekend.”
    “Okay, so, uh, congratulations,” Zach said, feeling totally
uncomfortable. Document a pregnancy? Nina’s pregnancy? All right, he’d entered
the Twilight Zone. No matter how fascinating gestation might be to those
directly involved, to anyone else, it was likely to be as boring as watching
paint dry.
    “I’d do it myself,” she said, “but I want this to be really
good. Professional quality. I’d like to make a video diary.”
    “Nina, I wish I could help you out, but—”
    “Zach, it’s something I need to do. See, the pregnancy is…well,
there’s a complication. Not just due to me being an older mom, but something
else came up, and I really need to document this process, and do it well. You’re
the best, Zach. I’ve seen your work and you’re exactly the one I need.”
    He grinned. “You’re making it hard to say no.”
    “Then my plan is working. Zach, before you make up your mind
one way or the other, I need to let you know about the complication.”
    Any pregnancy seemed complicated to Zach. “I’m listening.”
    “The