Wishing Lake

by Regina Hart

“Of course.” She sounded relieved.

  Darius collected his recorder and notebook. He threw his coat over his arm. “Thanks for your time. I’ll take a rain check on that water.”

  Maybe his parting shot had been unfair, but the blush that pinkened her honey-and-chocolate-cream complexion was worth it.

  Peyton followed him to her office door. “I’m glad you’re writing a tribute to Dr. Hartford. He’s done a lot for the university.”

  Darius turned to her. Through her window, he could see Wishing Lake. The name of that particular body of water had always confused him. It was a pond, not a lake.

  “Do you know how Wishing Lake got its name?” Where had that question come from? He was supposed to be leaving.

  “Students throw pennies in the lake for good grades.” She spared a quick glance at the window behind her.

  Darius shook his head. “There are better ways to invest in their education.”

  “I take it that’s not how the lake got its name?” Peyton’s smile distracted him.

  “According to Dr. Hartford, TFU’s founder, Clara Butler, was desperate to start a school for the freed and escaped slaves who’d helped establish Trinity Falls.” Darius nodded toward the window. “She stood by the pond and prayed for guidance and courage. And that night, she had a life-changing vision that told her what she needed to do to start the school.”

  “What did she need to do?”

  “Build it.”

  Peyton’s arched brows knitted. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” Darius met her gaze. “Wishing Lake isn’t about coins. It’s about faith and finding the courage to follow your dreams. But for some reason, students keep tossing pennies in the pond.”

  “That’s poetic.” Peyton looked at him as though she’d never seen him before.

  Darius’s eyes slid free of hers. “Dr. Hartford told me the story.”

  “I don’t know Dr. Hartford well, but I’m almost positive he wouldn’t have described the lake as you did.”

  She was right. No one would ever call Dr. Kenneth Hartford a poet.

  The impish lights in Peyton’s caramel eyes made him want to kiss her again. Darius pivoted toward the door. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  “You do the same. And thank you for the history lesson.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Darius made it out of her office and down the hall. He paused at the top of the staircase that led to the building’s rear entrance. For too many years, he’d buried his emotions. It was an act of self-defense against his parents’ frequent public displays of disaffection for each other. It also protected him from the many and varied ways their thoughtless words had hurt him. After a while, he thought he’d stopped feeling.

  But kissing Peyton had proven him wrong. Darius started down the steps. He could still feel. His heart had punched him in the chest. His skin had burned beneath her touch—and his manhood had swelled uncomfortably in his shorts.

  What was a former robot to do with these very human feelings?

  “I’m stepping down as town council president.”

  CeCe Roben’s declaration shouldn’t have surprised Doreen. She’d suspected the council president had a major announcement. What else would bring her to Doreen’s home on a Monday evening? CeCe wasn’t in the habit of just dropping by. Still, Doreen was blindsided.

  She cradled her cup of chai tea and stared wide-eyed at the other woman seated across from her at her mahogany dining table. “Why?”

  The former council president released a deep sigh. Her pale blue gaze strayed across the cream-and-mahogany dining room, then back to Doreen. “I’m not ready to leave the council altogether. But I’m burned out. It’s exhausting dealing with the posturing and obstruction. Sometimes I feel like the only responsible adult in the room.”

  “Is that really something you should be saying to me the day before the election?” Doreen’s question wasn’t totally tongue in cheek.

  CeCe’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Perhaps not, but that’s how I feel. I need to step back from the daily oversight of the council.”

  “For how long?” Doreen sipped her tea. The pearl gray clock mounted to the warm cream wall behind CeCe read almost six o’clock in the evening. Alonzo would be here soon. What would he think of CeCe’s news?

  “The rest of my term.” CeCe stared into her cup of tea as though viewing her past. “This isn’t what I’d planned on when I ran for council president. I want to serve the community, not negotiate with adults as though they were spoiled prepubescents.”

  “You need to do what’s best for you.” Doreen empathized with the former council president. She’d dealt with similar attitudes while serving on volunteer committees.

  “The other council members were supportive.” With her right hand, CeCe swept her shoulder-length auburn hair away from her oval face.

  “You were a good council president. One of the best the town has ever had. You’ll be hard to replace.”

  “Thank you, Doreen.” A faint blush warmed CeCe’s alabaster features.

  “When will the council vote on your replacement?” Which of the members would want to take CeCe’s place? As the soon-to-be-former council president had implied, it was a tough and thankless job.

  “We’ve already voted.” CeCe tucked her bone-straight hair behind an ear. “Nessa is the new council president.”

  “Nessa?” Unease snaked through Doreen, twisting the muscles in her stomach. “Was the council’s vote unanimous?”

  CeCe gave her a strange look. “Yes. Actually, Nessa was the only council member who wanted to be president.”

  After two and a half terms as a council member, why would Nessa choose to become council president now, in the middle of her third term?

  Doreen forced a casual tone. “Had Nessa ever indicated before that she wanted to be council president?”

  “I don’t think so.” CeCe shrugged. “At least, she’s never mentioned it to me.”

  Doreen’s unease increased. “Whose idea was it for you to step down?”

  CeCe’s thin auburn eyebrows knitted. “Mine. I told the council I needed a break.”

  “In the middle of your third term?”

  “I couldn’t wait another two years, Doreen. I’m just burned out.”

  Doreen nodded, though she didn’t understand. If CeCe was so disillusioned with the president’s position, why had she run for reelection two years ago?

  “Did you approach the council with your decision or did one of the members approach you first?”

  CeCe frowned. “Why are you asking all of these questions?”

  “I’m just curious.” Doreen attempted a nonchalant shrug, but her grip was tight on her teacup. The pale blue porcelain was warm in her palm.

  “Well, I wanted you to know I’d stepped down before you took office.” CeCe sipped her tea.

  “And that Nessa was now council president. I appreciate the warning.” Doreen’s tone was dry.

  CeCe frowned again. “It’s not a warning. I’m just letting you know.”

  “I’ll be honest with you, CeCe.” Doreen sat back on her chair. She set her feet in their fluffy, cool pink socks, flat on the hardwood flooring. “I think Nessa convinced you to step down so she could take your place as president.”

  “Why would she do that?” CeCe looked confused.

  “Nessa doesn’t want me to be mayor.” Doreen recalled Nessa’s attack during Books & Bakery’s Halloween celebration.

  “Why not? As much as you’ve done for this town, everyone knew it was just a matter of time before you became mayor.”

  “Apparently, Nessa doesn’t see things that way.”

  “Has Nessa ever argued with you before?”

  “No.”

  “Then why would she start now?”

  “I’m not making this up, CeCe. So did you approach the council or did Nessa approach you?”

  CeCe hesitated. “Well, actually, now that I think about it, Nessa brought it u
p to me.”

  Doreen sagged on her chair. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Are you glad the election’s almost over?” At a vile hour the next morning, Darius stood poised to document Doreen’s response into his reporter’s notebook.

  It was just after six-thirty the morning of November fourth, Election Day. The Heritage High School gymnasium served as one of the town’s polling locations. He’d arrived early to cast his vote and cover the event for The Trinity Falls Monitor. Doreen had cast her vote already as well. Actually, she’d been the first in line.

  Darius nodded at Lei Chang, one of the Monitor’s photojournalists, as she strode past him toward the parking lot. His coworker had arrived at the polls early to take the money shot of Doreen casting her ballot. Lei had taken several pictures of Doreen. She’d also photographed Jackson, Nessa, and other prominent Trinity Falls residents as they stood in line at the polls.

  “I don’t know why I’m so anxious. I’m running unopposed.” Doreen’s voice bounced with nervous energy. She folded her dark green winter coat over her left forearm. “Can you imagine how tense I’d be if someone was actually challenging me?”

  “This is a big day. Your anxiety is understandable.” Darius waited for a better quote.

  Doreen’s brown eyes widened. She slapped her hand to her mouth, then let it drop to her side. “I probably shouldn’t have said that. I’m going to have to learn to be more careful of what I say around you.”

  “Only when I’m on the job.” Darius gave her a reassuring smile. “What are your thoughts on the election?”

  This time, Doreen took a moment to consider his question. “Right now, I can’t think beyond how excited I am to get started. Ramona worked hard to get the town out of tremendous debt after years of mismanagement. I’d like to build on her successes and secure an even greater surplus.”

  “I look forward to hearing more about your ideas to do that.”

  The sound of the entrance door opening interrupted their conversation. A cold blast of air flew down the corridor. Darius looked down the hall—and lost his breath. The heels of Peyton’s black pumps snapped against the silver flooring. Her burgundy wool coat complemented the pink flush of her cheeks.

  “Good morning, Professor.” Darius inclined his head toward her. His body hardened with the memory of their kiss.

  “Good morning, Darius.” Peyton’s soft greeting triggered a reaction in his gut. Her shaky smile brightened as she stopped beside Doreen. “I imagine you had trouble sleeping last night.”

  “Your imagination is right.” Doreen laughed self-consciously.

  “I’m excited to cast my vote for you.”

  “Thank you.” Doreen’s nervous expression relaxed.

  Peyton nodded toward Darius before crossing into the gym.

  “I’m also anxious to implement Ramona’s suggestion of a community center fund-raiser.” Doreen’s comment brought Darius back to his interview. “Have you given any more thought to cochairing that committee?”

  Darius stilled. “Was it your idea for me to be cochair?”

  “No, but I think it’s a good one.” Doreen shrugged into her coat.

  “I don’t.” Darius wrestled back his residual reaction to kissing Peyton. “I don’t need any help with my personal life. I don’t want help, either.”

  “We want you to be happy, Darius.” Doreen squeezed his forearm.

  “I’m fine. I’ll be even better when everyone respects my privacy.”

  Doreen released him. “All right.”

  Darius let the matter go, though he didn’t believe for a second that Doreen and the others would stop meddling in his private life. He chatted a few minutes more with the soon-to-be-mayor before Doreen hustled off to Books & Bakery. Darius remained, hoping to get comments from other residents, not just Peyton.

  Lei slammed back into the gym, bringing the cold front with her. Her petite form was bundled into a black winter coat that seemed three sizes too large for her. She shoved back her hood and shook her shoulder-length raven hair free. “It’s colder than a witch’s—”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cold out there.” Darius cut off the photojournalist’s trademark vulgarity. “That’s why I’m waiting in here.”

  “Lucky you with your cushy reporter’s assignment.” She marched toward him, pausing to deliver her scorn. “I had to get shots of the voters arriving, up close and personal. Do you expect me to shoot that shit through the glass doors?” She nodded toward the entrance behind her.

  “No, I don’t.” Darius struggled to keep the laughter from his voice. He was used to the surly artist. “We’re lucky to have your expertise.”

  “Damn right.” Pleasantries exchanged, Lei stomped back into the gym.

  Darius crossed the corridor to lean against the wall opposite the gym’s entrance. He glanced toward the rear doors leading to the dark parking lot. During the May primary, he’d waited outside to interview voters. Not today, though. Lei was right. It was too cold.

  But the cold clime didn’t have a negative impact on voter turnout. The midterm ballot issues were enough to lure people to the polls. In addition to the mayoral election, there were several county, state, and federal considerations, including U.S. Senate and Congressional races.

  Darius straightened from the wall as Jackson and Audra emerged from the gym. “A few words for the press?”

  Jackson wrapped an arm around Audra’s waist. “I don’t think the newspaper’s publisher should be quoted in one of its articles.”

  “Then don’t speak as the publisher,” Darius offered him a solution. “Speak as a member of the town’s founding family.”

  “Nice try but we can’t separate the two.”

  Darius shrugged. “I can. I’m sure other residents can, too.”

  “I don’t want to influence anyone.” Jackson glanced at Audra.

  “Go on.” The songwriter nudged Jackson in his ribs with her elbow. “You’re not going to influence anyone. The article won’t appear in the paper until tomorrow morning.”

  Jackson shook his head. “It’ll appear online this afternoon—along with the hundreds of photos Lei seems determined to take.”

  “Just give Darius a quote.” Audra smiled up at Jackson. “Don’t make his job harder than it already is.”

  “Thank you, Audra.” Darius gave Jackson a pointed look. “Listen to your better half.”

  Jackson sighed. “OK. As a member of the town’s founding family, I’d like to say that Trinity Falls is fortunate the candidate who chose to run for mayor is as dedicated to the town as Doreen Fever has always been.”

  Darius’s pen raced across his notebook. “Thanks, Jack. Anything you’d like to add, Audra?”

  “Me? I wasn’t expecting to be interviewed.” Taken aback, Audra looked from Jackson to Darius in surprise.

  “You’ve just moved from L.A. to Trinity Falls. From the perspective of a new resident, what do you think of our ballot issues?”

  Audra considered the question. “Los Angeles has a much greater population, but the issues are similar—funding for education and other necessary community services.”

  Darius transcribed Audra’s quote as she and Jackson left the high school.

  It was a while before Nessa emerged from the room. Her expression was pensive. Darius approached her, pen and reporter’s notebook at the ready. “Congratulations on being elected council president.”

  “Thanks.” Nessa looked at him as though she was emerging from deep thought. What was on her mind?

  “What are your plans for the second half of your term?”

  “I’m going to continue the good work the council already has done to get the town back in shape, fiscally as well as physically.”

  Darius wrote down her response. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Nessa had given the council credit for the town improvements Doreen had claimed Ramona had accomplished as mayor. He kept those thoughts to himself. “Do you have any comments on the ballot issues?”


  “I wish the town had options.” Nessa straightened as though preparing for battle—or a mayoral run. “The residents of Trinity Falls deserve to have a choice of mayoral candidates. For too many years, our candidates have run unopposed. That’s not a democracy.”

  Nessa’s words nudged Darius’s memory. “That’s almost the exact response my father gave me when he was considering challenging Doreen for mayor.”

  “Your father and I aren’t the only people who feel this way. We’re just two of many.”

  His eyes held Nessa’s. “I’ve wondered who talked my father into running for mayor. Was it you?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Darius waited for Nessa’s reaction. The new town council president needed to know she couldn’t scheme in secrecy. Trinity Falls was a small town with very nosy neighbors.

  Nessa didn’t blink. “As I said, Simon and I aren’t the only ones who feel this way. There are hundreds of people who could have planted that seed. I’m only sorry he dropped out of the campaign. If it weren’t for the skeletons in his closet, he would’ve made a good mayor.”

  Darius doubted that. “Why didn’t any of these hundreds of people run for office?”

  “I’m sure there are as many reasons as there are people in Trinity Falls. But I’m hopeful things will be different in the future.” Nessa straightened her shoulders as though once again preparing for the campaign trail. “Single-candidate mayoral races put an additional burden on the council. Now we have to ensure that the mayor doesn’t abuse her position.”

  “Doesn’t the council have to do that regardless of how the mayor gets into office?”

  “Yes, but this is an added burden because . . .” Nessa’s gaze swept the corridor as though seeking inspiration. “Well, if the candidate is uncontested, she may think she’s entering office with a mandate.”

  Darius didn’t buy that, but he recorded her words anyway. “What about you, Nessa? Will you run for office in 2018? Is that the reason you became council president?”

  “I accepted the position of council president after CeCe Roben stepped down for personal reasons. My focus is on serving the town as council president and continuing the good work the council has accomplished to date.” Nessa attempted to look down her nose at him. It was a difficult maneuver, considering Darius was half a foot taller than her.