天涯在线书库《www.tianyabook.com》
《The Notebook》
Acknowledgments
This book is a work of fi. Names, characters, places Aowledgments
This story is what it is today because of two special people, 99lib? and I would like to thank them for everything theyve done.
To There sa Park, the agent who plucked me from obscurity. Thank you for your kindness, your patience, and the many hours you have spent work９９ｌｉｂ? nature. You made this a wonderful experiene, and Im glad to call you my friend.
Miracles
Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end?
The sun has e up and I am sitting by a window that is foggy with the breath of a life... gone by. Im a sight this m: two shirts, heavy pants, a scarf ed twice around my ned tucked into a thick sweater knitted by my daughter thirty birthdays ago. The thermostat in my room is set as high as it will go, and a smaller space heater sits directly behi clicks and groans and spews hot air like a fairy-tale dragon, and still my body shivers with a cold that will never go away, a cold that has beey years in the making.
Eighty years, I think sometimes, ae my otany age, it still amazes me that I havent been warm since Gee Bush resident.
I wonder i藏书网 f this is how it is for everyone my age.
My life? It isnt easy to explain. It has not been the rip-r spectacular I fa would be, but her have I burrowed around with the gophers (small burrowing rodent (native to the North Ameri prairies). I suppose it has most resembled a blue-chip stock: fairly stable, more ups than downs, and gradually trending upward over time. A good buy, a lucky buy, and Ive learhat not everyone say this about藏书网 his life. But do not be misled. I am nothing special; of this I am sure. I am a an with on thoughts, and Ive led a on life. There are no mos dedicated to me and my name will soon be fotten, but Ive loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.
The romantics would call this a love story, the ics would call it a tragedy. In my mind its a little bit of both, and no matter how you choose to view it in the end, it does not ge the fact that it involves a great deal of my life and the path Ive chosen to follow. I have no plaints about my path and the places it has taken me; enough plaints to fill a circus tent about other things, maybe, but the path Ive chosen has always been the right one, and I wouldnt have had it any other way.
Time, unfortunately, doesnt make it easy to stay on course. The path is straight as ever, but now it is strewn with the rocks and gravel that accumulate over a lifetime. Until three years ago it would have been easy to ignore, but its impossible now. There is a siess rolling through my body;flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art,
the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging,
silent, gazing, p the themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
He smiled to himself. For some reason Whitman always reminded him of New Bern, and he was glad hed e back. Though hed been away for fourteen years, this was home and he knew a lot of people here, most of them from his youth. It wasnt surprising.
Like so many southern towns, the people who lived here never ged, they just grew a bit older.
His best friend these days was Gus, a seventy-year-old black man who lived down the road. They had met a couple of weeks after Noah bought the house, when Gus had shown up with some homemade liquor and Brunswick stew, and the tent their first evening together getting drunk and telling stories.
Now Gus would show up a couple of nights a week, usually arou. With four kids and eleven grandchildren in the house, he o get out of the house now and then, and Noah couldnt blame him. Usually Gus would bring his harmonica, and after talking for a little while, theyd play a few songs together. Sometimes they played for hours.
Hed e tard Gus as family. There really wasnt anyone else, at least not since his father died last year. He was an only child; his mother had died of influenza when he was two, and though he had wao at oime, he had never married.
But he had been in love ohat he knew. Ond only once, and a long time ago.
And it had ged him forever. Perfect love did that to a person, and this had been perfect.
Coastal clouds slowly began to roll across the evening sky, turning silver with the refle of the moon. As they thied, he leaned his head bad rested it against the rog chair. His legs moved automatically, keeping a steady rhythm, and as he did most evenings, he felt his mind drifting back to a warm evening like this fourteen years ago.
It was just after graduation 1932, the opening night of the Neuse River Festival.
The town was out in full, enjoying barbecue and games of ce. It was humid that night - for some reason he remembered that clearly. He arrived alone, and as he strolled through the crowd, looking for friends, he saw Fin and Sarah, two people hed grown up with, talking to a girl hed never seen before. She retty, he remembered thinking, and when he finally joihem, she looked his way with a pair of hazy eyes that kept on ing. "Hi," shed said simply as she offered her hand, "Fiold me a lot about you."
An ordinary beginning, something that would have been fotten had it been a her. But as he shook her hand ahose striking emerald eyes, he knew before hed taken his breath that she was the one he could spend the rest of his life looking for but never find again. She seemed that good, that perfect, while a summer wind blew through the trees.
From there, it went like a tornado wind. Fin told him she ending the summer in New Bern with her family because her father worked for R. J. Reynolds, and though he only he way she was looking at him made his silence seem okay. Fin laughed then, because he knew what was happening, and Sarah suggested they get some cherry Cokes, and the four of them stayed at the festival until the crowds were thin and everything closed up for the night.
They met the following day, and the day after that, and they soon became inseparable. Every m but Sunday when he had to go to church, he would finish his chores as quickly as possible, then make a straight lio Fort Totten Park, where shed be waiting for him. Because she was a newer and hadnt spent time in a small town before, they spent their days doing things that were pletely o her. He taught her how to bait a line and fish the shallows for largemouth bass and took her expl through the backwoods of the Croatan Forest.
They rode in oes and watched summer thuorms, and to him it seemed as though theyd always known each other.
But he learhings as well. At the town dan the tobacco barn, it was she who taught him how to waltz and do the Charleston, and though they stumbled through the first few songs, her patieh him eventually paid off, and they daogether until the musided. He walked her home afterward, and when they paused on the porch after saying good night, he kissed her for the first time and wondered why he had waited as long as he had. Later in the summer he brought her to this house, looked past the decay, and told her that one day he was going to own it and fix it up. They spent hours together talking about their dreams - his of seeing the world, hers of being an artist - and on a humid night in August, they both lost their virginity.
When she left three weeks later, she took a piece of him and the rest of summer with her. He watched her leave town on an early rainy m, watched through eyes that hadnt slept the night before, the home and packed a bag. He spent the week alone on Harkers Island.
Noah ran his hands through his hair and checked his watch. Eight-twelve. He got up and walked to the front of the house and looked up the road. Gus wasnt in sight, and Noah figured he wouldnt be ing. He went back to his rocker and sat again.
He remembered talking to Gus about her. The first time he mentioned her, Gus started to shake his head and laugh. "So thats the ghost you been running from." When asked what he meant, Gus said, "You know, the ghost, the memory. I been wat you, workin day and night, slavin so hard you barely have time to catch your breath. People do that for three reasoher they crazy, or stupid, or tryin tet. And with you, I knew you was tryin tet. I just didnt know what."
He thought about what Gus had said. Gus was right, of course. New Bern was haunted now. Haunted by the ghost of her memory. He saw her in Fort Totten Park, their place, every time he walked by. Either sitting on the bench or standing by the gate, always smiling, blond hair softly toug her shoulders, her eyes the color of emeralds.
Whe on the porch at night with his guitar, he saw her beside him, listening quietly as he played the music of his childhood.
He felt the same when he went to Gastons Drug Store, or to the Masonic theater, or even wherolled downtown. Everywhere he looked, he saw her image, saw things that brought her back to life.
It was odd, he khat. He had grown up in New Bern. Spent his first seventeen years here. But whehought about New Bern, he seemed to remember only the last summer, the summer they were together. Other memories were simply fragments, pieces here and there of growing up, and few, if any, evoked any feeling.
He had told Gus about it one night, and not only had Gus uood, but he had been the first to explain why. He said simply, "My daddy used to tell me that the first time you fall in love, it ges your life forever, and no matter how hard you try, the feelin never goes away. This girl you been tellin me about was your first love. And no matter what you do, shell stay with you forever."
Noah shook his head, and when her image began to fade, he returo Whitman. He read for an hour, looking up every now and then to see ras and possums scurryihe creek. At hirty he closed the book, went upstairs to the bedroom, and wrote in his journal, including both personal observations and the work hed aplished on the house. Forty minutes later, he was sleeping. Clem wandered up the stairs, sniffed him as he slept, and then paced in circles before finally curling up at the foot of his bed.
Earlier that evening and a hundred miles away, she sat alone on the porch swing of her parents home, one leg crossed beh her. The seat had been slightly damp whe down; rain had fallen earlier, hard and stinging, but the clouds were fading now and she looked past them, toward the stars, w if shed made the right decision. Shed struggled with it for days - and had struggled some more this evening - but in the end, she knew she would never five herself if she let the opportunity slip away.
Lon didnt know the real reason she left the following m. The week before, shed hio him that she might want to visit some antique shops he coast.
"Its just a couple of days," she said, "and besides, I need a break from planning the wedding." She felt bad about the lie but khere was no way she could tell him the truth. Her leaving had nothing to do with him, and it wouldnt be fair of her to ask him to uand.
It was an easy drive from Raleigh, slightly more than two hours, and she arrived a little before eleven. She checked into a small inn doent to her room, and unpacked her suitcase, hanging her dresses in the closet and putting everything else in the drawers.
She had a quick lunch, asked the waitress for dires to the antique stores, thehe few hours shopping. By four-thirty she was ba her room.
She sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone, and called Lon. He couldnt speak long, he was due in court, but before they hung up she gave him the phone number where she was staying and promised to call the following day. Good, she thought while hanging up the phone. Routine versation, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to make him suspicious.
Shed known him almost four years now; it was 1942 when they met, the world at war and Amerie year in. Everyone was doing their part, and she was volunteering at the hospital downtown. She was both needed and appreciated there, but it was more difficult than shed expected. The first waves of wounded young soldiers were ing home, and she spent her days with broken men and shattered bodies. When Lon, with all his easy charm, introduced himself at a Christmas party, she saw in him exactly what she needed: someoh fidence about the future and a sense of humor that drove all her fears away.
He was handsome, intelligent, and driven, a successful lawyer eight years older than she, and he pursued his job with passion, not only win winning cases, but also making a name for himself. She uood his vigorous pursuit of success, for her father and most of the me in her social circle were the same way. Like them, he’d been raised that way, and in the caste (social position, class) system of the South, family name and aplishments were often the most important sideration in marriage. In some cases, they were the only sideration.
Though she had quietly rebelled against this idea since childhood and dated a few me described as reckless, she found herself drawn to Lons easy ways and had gradually e to love him. Despite the long hours he worked, he was good to her. He was a gentleman, both mature and responsible, and during those terrible periods of the war when she needed someoo hold her, he never ourned her away. She felt secure with him and knew he loved her as well, and that was why she had accepted his proposal.
Thinking these things made her feel guilty about being here, she knew she should pack her things and leave before she ged her mind. She had do once before, long ago, and if she left now, she was sure she would never have the strength to return here again. She picked up her pocketbook (purse, wallet, handbag), hesitated, and almost made it to the door. But ce had pushed her here, and she put the pocketbook down, again realizing that if she quit now, she would always wonder what would have happened. And she didnt think she could live with that.
She went to the bathroom and started a bath. After cheg the temperature, she walked to the dresser, taking off her gold earrings as she crossed the room. She found her makeup bag, ope, and pulled out a razor and a bar of soap, then undressed in front of the bureau. She had been called beautiful since she was a young girl, and once she was naked, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her body was firm and well proportioned, breasts softly rounded, stomach flat, legs slim. She’d ied her mothers high cheekbones, smooth skin, blond hair, but her best feature was her own. She had "eyes like o waves,” as Lon liked to say. Taking the razor and soap, she went to the bathroom again, turned off the faucet, set a towel where she could reach it, and stepped in gingerly.
She liked the way a bath relaxed her, and she slipped lower ier. The day had been long and her back was tense, but she leased she had finished shopping so quickly. She had to go back to Raleigh with something tangible, and the things she had picked out would work fine. She made a mental o find the names of some other stores in the Beaufort area, then suddenly doubted she would o. Lon wasnt the type to check up on her. She reached for the soap, lathered up, and began to shave her legs. As she did, she thought about her parents and what they would think of her behavior. No doubt they would disapprove, especially her mother.
Her mother had never really accepted what had happehe summer theyd spent here and wouldnt accept it now, no matter what reason she gave.
She soaked a while longer iub before finally getting out and toweling off.
She went to the closet and looked for a dress, finally choosing a long yellow ohat dipped slightly in the front, the kind of dress that was on in the South.
She slipped it on and looked in the mirror, turning from side to side. It fit her well and made her look feminine, but she eventually decided against it and put it ba the hanger.
Instead she found a more casual, less revealing dress and put that on. Light blue with a touch of lace, it buttoned up the front, and though it didnt look quite as nice as the first o veyed an image she thought would be more appropriate.
She wore little makeup, just a touch of eye shadow and mascara to at her eyes.
Perfume , not too much. She found a pair of small-hooped earrings, put those on, then slipped oan, low-heeled sandals she had been wearing earlier. She brushed her blond hair, pi up, and looked in the mirror. No, it was too much, she thought, and she let it back dower.
When she was finished she stepped bad evaluated herself. She looked good: not too dressy, not too casual. She didnt want to overdo it. After all, she didnt know what to expect. It had been a long time - probably too long - and many different things could have happened, even things she didnt want to sider.
She looked down and saw her hands wer.. e shaking, and she laughed to herself. It was strange; she wasnt normally this nervous. Like Lon, she had always been fident, even as a child. She remembered that it had been a problem at times, especially wheed, because it had intimidated most of the boys her age.
She found her pocketbook and car keys, then picked up the room key. She tur over in her hand a couple of times, thinking, you’ve e this far, dont give up now, and almost left then, but instead sat on the bed again. She checked her watch.
Almost six oclock. She knew she had to leave in a few minutes - she didnt want to arrive after dark, but she needed a little more time.
"Damn," she whispered, "what am I doing here? I shouldnt be here. Theres no reason for it," but once she said it she k wasnt true. There was something here.
If nothing else, she would have her answer.
She opened her pocketbook and thumbed through it until she came to a folded-up piece of neer. After taking it out slowly, almost reverently, being careful not to rip it, she unfolded it and stared at it for a while. "This is why," she finally said to herself, "this is what its all about."
Noah got up at five and kayaked (lightweight single-person oe which is propelled by a double-bladed paddle (developed by the Eskimo) for an hour up Brices Creek, as he usually did. When he finished, he ged into his work clothes, warmed some biscuits from the day befrabbed a couple of apples, and washed his breakfast down with two cups of coffee.
He worked on the feng again, repairing most of the posts that . It was Indian summer (period of unusually warm weather ie autumn or early winter (in North America) , the temperature hty degrees, and by lunchtime he was hot and tired and glad for the break.
He ate at the creek because the mullets were jumping. He liked to watch them jump three or four times and glide through the air before vanishing into the brackish (of water) somewhat salty) water. For some reason he had always been pleased by the fact that their instinct hadnt ged for thousands, maybe tens of thousands, of years.
Sometimes he wondered if mans instincts had ged in that time and always cluded that they hadnt. At least in the basic, most primal ways. As far as he could tell, man had always been aggressive, always striving to domirying to trol the world and everything in it. The war in Europe and Japan proved that.
He quit w a little after three and walked to a small shed that sat near his dock. He went in, found his fishing pole, a couple of lures, and some live crickets he kept on hand, then walked out to the dock, baited his hook, and cast his line.
Fishing always made him refle his life, and he did it now. After his mother died, he could remember spending his days in a dozen different homes, and for one reason or another, he stuttered badly as a child and was teased for it. He began to speak less and less, and by the age of five, he wouldnt speak at all. Whearted classes, his teachers thought he was retarded and reehat he be pulled out of school.
Instead, his father took matters into his own hands. He kept him in school and afterward made him e to the lumberyard, where he worked, to haul and stack wood. "Its good that we spend some time together," he would say as they worked side by side, "just like my daddy and I did."
During their time together, his father would talk about birds and animals or tell stories and legends on to North Carolina. Within a few months Noah eaking again, though not well, and his father decided to teach him to read with books of poetry. "Learn to read this aloud and youll be able to say anything you want to." His father had been right again, and by the following year, Noah had lost his stutter. But he tio go to the lumberyard every day simply because his father was there, and in the evenings he would read the works of Whitman and Tennyson aloud as his father rocked beside him. He had been reading poetry ever since.
Whe a little older, he spent most of his weekends and vacations alone. He explored the Croatan Forest in his first oe, following Brices Creek for twenty miles until he could go no farther, then hiked the remaining miles to the coast.
Camping and expl became his passion, and he spent hours in the forest, sittih blackjack oak trees, whistling quietly, and playing his guitar for beavers and geese and wild blue herons. Poets khat isolation in nature, far from people and things man-made, was good for the soul, and hed always identified with poets.
Although he was quiet, years of heavy lifting at the lumberyard helped him excel in sports, and his athletic success led to popularity. He ehe football games and track meets, and though most of his teammates spent their free time together as well, he rarely joihem. An occasional person found him arrogant; most simply figured he had grown up a bit faster than everyone else. He had a few girlfriends in school, but none had ever made an impression on him.
Except for one. And she came after graduation. Allie. His Allie.
He remembered talking to Fin about Allie after theyd left the festival that first night, and Fin had laughed. Then hed made two predis: first, that they would fall in love, and sed, that it wouldnt work out.
There was a slight tug at his line and Noah hoped for a largemouth bass, but the tuggiually stopped, and after reeling his line in and cheg the bait, he cast again.
Fin ended up being right on both ts. Most of the summer, she had to make excuses to her parents whehey wao see each other. It wasnt that they didnt like him - it was that he was from a different class, too poor, and they would never approve if their daughter became serious with someone like him. "I dont care what my parents think, I love you and always will," she would say. "Well find a way to be together."
But in the end they couldnt. By early September the tobacco had been harvested and she had no choice but to return with her family to Winston-Salem. "Only the summer is over, Allie, not us," hed said the m she left. "Well never be over." But they were. For a reason he didnt fully uand, the letters he wrote went unanswered.
Eventually he decided to leave New Bern to help get her off his mind, but also because the Depression made earning a living in New Bern almost impossible. He went first to Norfolk and worked at a shipyard for six months before he was laid off, then moved to New Jersey because hed heard the ey wasnt so bad there.
He eventually found a job in a scrap yard, separating scrap metal from everything else. The owner, a Jewish man named Moldman, was i on colleg as much scrap metal as he could, vihat a war was going to start in Europe and that America would be dragged in again. Noah, though, didnt care about the reason. He was just happy to have a job.
His years in the lumberyard had toughened him to this type of labor, and he worked hard. Not only did it help him keep his mind off Allie during the day, but it was something he felt he had to do. His daddy had always said: "Give a days work for a days pay. Anything less is stealing. That attitude pleased his boss. "Its a shame you arent Jewish," Goldman would say, "You’re such a fine boy in so many other ways." It was the best pliment Goldman could give.
He tio think about Allie, especially at night. He wrote her once a month but never received a reply. Eventually he wrote a final letter and forced himself to accept the fact that the summer theyd spent with one another was the only thing theyd ever share.
Still, though, she stayed with him. Three years after the last letter, he went to Winston-Salem in the hope of finding her. He went to her house, discovered that she had moved, and after talking to some neighbors, finally called RJR. The girl who answered the phone was new and didnt reize the name, but she poked around the personnel files for him. She found out that Allies father had left the pany and that no f address was listed. That trip was the first and last time he ever looked for her.
For the eight years, he worked foldman. At first he was one of twelve employees, but as the years dragged on, the pany grew, and he romoted. By 1940 he had mastered the business and was running the entire operation, br the deals and managing a staff of thirty. The yard had bee the largest scrap metal dealer on the East Coast.
During that time, he dated a few different women. He became serious with one, a waitress from the local diner with deep blue eyes and silky black hair. Although they dated for two years and had many good times together, he never came to feel the same way about her as he did about Allie.
But her did he fet her. She was a few years older than he was, and it was she who taught him the ways to please a woman, the places to toud kiss, where to lihe things to whisper. They would sometimes spend aire day in bed, holding each other and making the kind of love that fully satisfied both of them.
She had known they wouldogether forever. Toward the end of their relationship shed told him once, "I wish I could give you what youre looking for, but I dont know what it is. Theres a part of you that you keep closed off from everyone, includis as if Im not the one youre really with. Your mind is on someone else."
He tried to deny it, but she didnt believe him. "Im a woman - I know these things. When you look at me sometimes, I know youre seeing someone else. Its like you keep waiting for her to pop out of thin air to take you away from all this ... "
A month later she visited him at work and told him shed met someone else. He uood.
They parted as friends, and the following year he received a postcard from her saying she was married. He hadnt heard from her since.
While he was in New Jersey, he would visit his father once a year around Christmas.
Theyd spend some time fishing and talking, and on a while theyd take a trip to the coast to go camping oer藏书网 Banks near Ocracoke.
In December 1941, when he was twenty-six, the war began, just as Goldman had predicted.
Noah walked into his office the following month and informed Goldman of his io enlist, theuro New Bern to say good-bye to his father. Five weeks later he found himself in boot camp. While there, he received a letter from Goldman thanking him for his work, together with a copy of a certificate entitling him to a small pertage of the scrap yard if it ever sold. "I couldnt have do without you," the letter said. "Youre the fi young man who ever worked for me, even if you arent Jewish."
He spent his hree years with Pattons Third Army, tramping through deserts in North Afrid forests in Europe with thirty pounds on his back, his infantry unit never far from a. He watched his friends die around him; watched as some of them were buried thousands of miles from home. Once, while hiding in a foxhole散兵坑he Rhine, he imagined he saw Allie watg over him.
He remembered the war ending in Europe, then a few months later in Japan. Just before he was discharged, he received a letter from a lawyer in New Jersey representing Moldman. Upoing the lawyer, he found out that Goldman had died a year earlier and his estate liquidated. The business had been sold, and Noah was given a check for almost seventy thousand dollars. For some reason he was oddly ued about it.
The following week he returo New Bern and bought the house. He remembered bringing his father around later, showing him what he was going to do, pointing out the ges he inteo make. His father seemed weak as he walked around, coughing and wheezing.
Noah was ed, but his father told him not to worry, assuring him that he had the flu.
Less than one month later his father died of pneumonia and was buried o his wife in the local cemetery. Noah tried to stop by regularly to leave some flowers; occasionally he left a note. And every night without fail he took a moment to remember him, then said a prayer for the man whod taught him everything that mattered.
After reeling in the line, he put the gear away a back to the house. His neighbor, Martha Shaw, was there to thank him, bringing three loaves of homemade bread and some biscuits in appreciation for what hed done.
Her husband had been killed in the war, leaving her with three children and a tired shack of a house to raise them in. Winter was ing, and hed spent a few days at her place last week repairing her roof, replag broken windows and sealing the others, and fixing her woodstove. Hopefully, it would be enough to get them through.
Once shed left, he got in his battered Dodge trud went to see Gus. He always stopped there when he was going to the store because Guss family didnt have a car.
One of the daughters hopped up and rode with him, and they did their shopping at Capers General Store. Whe home he didnt unpack the groceries right away. Instead he showered, found a Budweiser and a book by Dylan Thomas, ao sit on the porch.
She still had trouble believing it, even as she held the proof in her hands. It had been in the neer at her parents house three Sundays ago. She had goo the kit to get a cup of coffee, and when shed returo the table, her father had smiled and poi a small picture.
"Remember this?"
He handed her the paper, and after an ued first glance, something in the picture caught her eye and she took a closer look. "It t be," she whispered, and when her father looked at her curiously, she ignored him, sat down, ahe article without speaking. She vaguely remembered her mother ing to the table and sitting opposite her, and when she finally put aside the paper, her mother was staring at her with the same expression her father had just moments before.
"Are you okay?" her mother asked over her coffee cup. "You look a little pale." She didnt answer right away, she couldnt, and it was then that shed noticed her hands were shaking. That had bee started.
"And here it will end, one way or the other," she whispered again. She refolded the scrap of paper and put it back, remembering that she had left her parents home later that day with the paper so she could cut out the article. She read it again before she went to bed that night, trying to fathom the ce, and read it again the m as if to make sure the whole thing wasnt a dream. And now, after three weeks of long walks alone, after three weeks of distra, it was the reason shed e.
When asked, she said her erratic behavior was due to stress. It was the perfect excuse; everyone uood, including Lon, and thats why he hadnt argued when shed wao get away for a couple of days. The wedding plans were stressful to everyone involved.
Almost five hundred people were invited, including the governor, oor, and the ambassador to Peru. It was too much, in her opinion, but their e was news and had domihe social pages sihey had annouheir plans six months ago. Occasionally she felt like running away with Lon to get married without the fuss. But she knew he wouldnt agree; like the aspiring politi he was, he loved being the ter of attention.
She took a deep breath and stood again. "Its now or never," she whispered, then picked up her things ao the door. She paused only slightly before opening it and going downstairs. The manager smiled as she walked by, and she could feel his eyes on her as she left ao her car. She slipped behind the wheel, looked at herself one last time, then started the engine and turned right onto Front Street.
She wasnt surprised that she still knew her way around town so well. Even though she hadnt been here in years, it wasnt large and she navigated the streets easily.
After crossing the Trent River on an old-fashioned drawbridge (bridge which be drawn up or let down to permit or hinder free passage), she turned onto a gravel road and began the final leg of her journey.
It was beautiful here in the low try, as it always had been. Uhe Piedmont area where she grew up, the land was flat, but it had the same silty, fertile soil that was ideal for cotton and tobacco. Those two crops and timber kept the towns alive in this part of the state, and as she drove along the road outside town, she saw the beauty that had first attracted people to this region.
To her, it hadnt ged at all. Broken sunlight passed through water oaks and hickory trees a hundred feet tall, illuminating the colors of fall. On her left, a river the color of iron veered toward the road and then turned away befiving up its life to a different, larger river another mile ahead. The gravel road itself wound its way between antebellum (pre-Civil War (in the USA); pre-World War I) farms, and she khat for some of the farmers, life hadnt ged since before their grandparents were born. The stancy of the place brought back a flood of memories, and she felt her iighten as one by one she reized landmarks shed long since fotten.
The sun hung just above the trees on her left, and as she rounded a curve, she passed an old church, abandoned for years but still standing. She had explored it that summer, looking for souvenirs from the War betweeates, and as her car passed by, the memories of that day became stronger, as if theyd just happened yesterday.
A majestic oak tree on the banks of the river came into view , and the memories became more inte looked the same as it had back then, branches low and thick, stretg horizontally along the ground with Spanish moss draped over the limbs like a veil. She remembered sittih the tree on a hot July day with someone who looked at her with a longing that took everything else away. And it had been at that moment that shed first fallen in love.
He was two years older than she was, and as she drove along this roadway-in-time, he slowly came into focus once again. He always looked older than he really was, she remembered thinking. His appearance was that of someone slightly weathered, almost like a farmer ing home after hours in the field. He had the callused hands and broad shoulders that came to those who worked hard for a living, and the first faint lines were beginning to form around the dark eyes that seemed to read her every thought.
He was tall and strong, with light brown hair, and handsome in his own way, but it was his voice that she remembered most of all. He had read to her that day; read to her as they lay in the grass beh the tree with an at that was soft and fluent, almost musical in quality. It was the kind of voice that belonged on radio, and it seemed to hang in the air when he read to her. She remembered closing her eyes, listening closely, aing the words he was reading touch her soul: It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun...
He thumbed through old books with dog-eared pages, books hed read a huimes.
Hed read for a while, then stop, and the two of them would talk. She would tell him what she wanted in her life - her hopes and dreams for the future - and he would listen ily and then promise to make it all e true. And the way he said it made her believe him, and she khen how much he meant to her. Occasionally, when she asked, he would talk about himself or explain why he had chosen a particular poem and what he thought of it, and at other times he just studied her in that intense way of his.
They watched the sun go down and ate together uhe stars. It was getting late by then, and she knew her parents would be furious if they knew where she was. At that moment, though, it really didnt matter to her. All she could think about was how special the day had been, how special he was, and as they started toward her house a few minutes later, he took her hand in his and she felt the way it warmed her the whole way back.
Aurn in the road and she finally saw it in the distahe house had ged dramatically from what she remembered. She slowed the car as she approached, turning into the long, tree-lined dirt drive that led to the bea that had summoned her from Raleigh.
She drove slowly, looking toward the house, and took a deep breath when she saw him on the porch, watg her car. He was dressed casually. From a distance, he looked the same as he had back then. For a moment, when the light from the sun was behind him, he almost seemed to vanish into the sery.
Her car tinued forward, rolling slowly, then finally stopped beh an oak tree that shaded the front of the house. She turhe key, aking her eyes from him, and the engine sputtered to a halt.
He stepped off the pord began to approach her, walking easily, then suddenly stopped cold as she emerged from the car. For a long time all they could do was stare at each other without moving.
Allison Nelson, twenty-nine years old and engaged, a socialite, searg for answers she o know, and Noah Calhoun, the dreamer, thirty-one, visited by the ghost that had e to dominate his life.
Reunion
her one of them moved as they faced each other.
He hadnt said anything, his muscles seemed frozen, and for a sed she thought he didnt reize her. Suddenly she felt guilty about showing up this way, without warning, and this made it harder. She had thought it would be easier somehow, that she would know what to say. But she didnt. Everything that came into her head seemed inappropriate, somehow lag.
Thoughts of the summer theyd shared came back to her, and as she stared at him, she noticed how little hed ged since shed last seen him. He looked good, she thought. With his shirt tucked loosely into old faded jeans, she could see the same broad shoulders she remembered, tapering down to narrow hips and a flat stomach. He was tan, too, as if hed worked outside all summer, and though his hair was a little thinner and lighter than she remembered, he looked the same as he had when shed known him last.
When she was finally ready, she took a deep breath and smiled.
"Hello, Noah. Its good to see you again." Her ent startled him, and he looked at her with amazement in his eyes. Then, after shaking his head slightly, he slowly began to smile.
"You too?" He stammered. He brought his hand to his , and she noticed he hadnt shaved. "Its really you, isnt it? I t believe it."
She heard the sho his voice as he spoke, and surprising her, it all came together - being here, seeing him. She felt something twitside, something deep and old, something that made her dizzy for just a sed.
She caught herself fighting for trol. She hadnt expected this to happen, didnt want it to happen. She was engaged now. She hadnt e here for this.., yet... Yet... Yet the feeli oe herself, and for a brief moment she felt fifteen agai as she hadnt in years, as if all her dreams could still e true.
Felt as though shed finally e home. Without another word they came together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a his arms around her, drawing her close. They held each htly, making it real, both of them letting the fourteen years of separation dissolve in the deepening twilight.
They stayed like that for a long time before she finally pulled back to look at him.
Up close, she could see the ges she hadnt noticed at first. He was a man now, and his face had lost the softness of youth. The faint lines around his eyes had deepened, and there was a scar on his that hadhere before. There was a new edge to him; he seemed less i, more cautious, ahe way he was holding her made her realize how much shed missed him since shed seen him last.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as they finally released each other. She laughed nervously under her breath while wiping the tears from the ers of her eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, a thousand other questions on his face.
"Im sorry, I dido cry ... "
"Its okay," he said, smiling, "I still t believe its you. How did you find me?"
She stepped back, trying to pose herself, wiping away the last of her tears.
"I saw the story on the house in the Raleigh paper a couple of weeks ago, and I had to e see you again."
Noah smiled broadly. "Im glad you did." He stepped back just a bit. "God, you look fantastic. Youre eveier now than you were then."
She felt the blood in her face. Just like fourteen years ago.
"Thank you. You look great, too." And he did, no doubt about it. The years had treated him well.
"So what have you been up to? Why are you here?"
His questions brought her back to the present, making her realize what could happen if she wasnt careful. Dohis get out of hand, she told herself; the lo goes on, the harder its going to be. And she didnt want it to get any harder.
But God, those eyes. Those soft, dark eyes. She turned away and took a deep breath, w how to say it, and when she finally started, her voice was quiet. "Noah, before you get the wrong idea, I did want to see you again, but theres more to it than just that." She paused for a sed. "I came here for a reason. Theres something I have to tell you."
"What is it?"
She looked away and didnt answer for a moment, surprised that she couldnt tell him just yet. In the silenoah felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Whatever it was was bad.
"I dont know how to say it. I thought I did at first, but now Im not so sure ..."
The air was suddenly rattled by the sharp cry of a ra, and Clem came out from uhe porch, barking gruffly. Both of them tur the otion, and Allie was glad for the distra.
"Is he yours?" she asked.
Noah nodded, feeling the tightness in his stomach. "Actually its a she. Clementines her name. But yeah, shes all mine."
They both watched as Clem shook her head, stretched, then waoward the sounds. Allies eyes widened just a bit when she saw her limp away.
"What happe?" she asked, stalling for time.
"Hit by a car a few months back. Doc Harrison, the vet, called me to see if I wanted her because her owner didnt anymore. After I saw what had happened, I guess I just could her be put down (Slang); kill or destroy (animals)."
"You were always nice like that," she said, trying to relax. She paused, then looked past him toward the house. "You did a wonderful job rest it. It looks perfect, just like I k would someday."
He turned his head in the same dire as hers while he wondered about the small talk and what she was holding back.
"Thanks, thats nice of you. It was quite a project, though. I dont know if I would do it again."
"Of course you would," she said. She kly how he felt about this place. But then, she knew how he felt about everything - or at least she had a long time ago.
And with that thought, she realized how much had ged sihen. They were strangers now; she could tell by looking at him. Could tell that fourteen years apart was a long time. Too long.
"What is it, Allie?" He turo her, pellio look, but she tio stare at the house.
"Im being rather silly, arent I?" she asked, trying to smile.
"What do you mean?"
"This whole thing. Showing up out of the blue, not knowing what I want to say. You must think Im crazy."
"Youre not crazy," he said gently. He reached for her hand, and she let him hold it as they stood o one another. He went on: "Even though I dont know why, I see this is hard for you. Why dont we go for a walk?"
"Like we used to?"
"Why not? I thih could use one."
She hesitated and looked to his front door. "Do you o tell anyone?"
He shook his head. "No, theres no oo tell. Its just me and Clem."
Even though shed asked, she had suspected there wouldnt be anyone else, and inside she didnt know how to feel about that. But it did make what she wao say a little harder. It would have been easier if there was someone else.
They started toward the river and turned on a path he bank. She let go of his hand, surprising him, and walked on with just enough distaween them so that they couldnt actally touch.
He looked at her. She retty still, with thick hair and soft eyes, and she moved so gracefully that it almost seemed as though she were gliding. Hed seeiful women before, though, women who caught his eye, but to his mind they usually lacked the traits he found most desirable. Traits like intelligence, fiderength of spirit, passion, traits that inspired others to greatness, traits he aspired to himself.
Allie had those traits, he knew, and as they walked now, he sehem once again lingerih the surface. "A living poem" had always been the words that came to mind wheried to describe her to others.
"How long have you been back here?" she asked as the path gave way to a small grass hill.
"Since last December. I worked up north for a while, thehe last three years in Europe."
She looked to him with questions in her eyes. "The war?"
He nodded and she went on. "I thought you might be there. Im glad you made it out okay."
"Me too," he said.
"Are you glad to be bae?"
"Yeah. My roots are here. This is where Im supposed to be." He paused. "But what about you?" He asked the question softly, suspeg the worst.
It was a long moment before she answered. "Im engaged."
He looked down when she said it, suddenly feeling just a bit weaker. So that was it. Thats what she o tell him.
"gratulations," he finally said, w how ving he sounded. "Whens the big day?"
"Three weeks from Saturday. Lon wanted a November wedding."
"Lon?"
"Lon Hammond Jr. My fiancé."
He nodded, not surprised. The Hammonds were one of the most powerful and iial families iate. oney. Uhat of his own father, the death of Lon Hammond Sr. had made the front page of the neer.
"Ive heard of them. His father built quite a business. Did Lon take over for him?"
She shook her head. "No, hes a lawyer. He has his own practice downtown."
"With his name, he must be busy."
"He is. He works a lot."
He thought he heard something ione, and the question came automatically. "Does he treat you well?"
She didnt answer right away, as if she were sidering the question for the first time. Then: "Yes. Hes a good man, Noah. You would like him."
Her voice was distant when she answered, or at least he thought it was. Noah wondered if it was just his mind playing tricks on him.
"Hows your daddy doing?" she asked. Noah took a couple of steps before answering.
"He passed on 去世 earlier this year, right after I got back."
"Im sorry," she said softly, knowing how much he had meant to Noah.
He nodded, and the two walked in silence for a moment. They reached the top of the hill and stopped. The oak tree was in the distance, with the sun glowing e behind it. Allie could feel his eyes on her as she stared in that dire.
"A lot of memories there, Allie."
She smiled. "I know. I saw it when I came in. Do you remember the day we spent there?"
"Yes," he answered, volunteering no more.
"Do you ever think about it?"
"Sometimes," he said. "Usually when Im w out this way. It sits on my property now."
"You bought it?"
"I just couldo see it turned into kit ets."
She laughed under her breath, feeling strangely pleased about that. "Do you still read poetry?”
He nodded. "Yeah. I opped. I guess its in my blood."
"Do you know, youre the only poet Ive ever met."
"Im no poet. I read, but I t write a verse. Ive tried."
"Youre still a poet, Noah Taylor Calhoun." Her voice softened. "I still think about it a lot. It was the first time anyone ever read poetry to me before. In fact, its the only time."
Her ent made both of them drift bad remember as they slowly circled back to the house, following a new path that passed he dock.
As the sun dropped a little lower and the sky turned e, he asked: "So, how long are you staying?"
"I dont know. Not long. Maybe until tomorrow or the day."
"Is your fiancé here on business?"
She shook her head. "No, hes still in Raleigh."
Noah raised his eyebrows. "Does he know youre here?"
She shook her head again and answered slowly. "No. I told him I was looking for antiques. He wouldnt uand my ing here."
Noah was a little surprised by her answer. It was ohing to e and visit, but it was airely different matter to hide the truth from her fiancé.
"You didnt have to e here to tell me you were engaged. You could have written me instead, or even called."
"I know. But for some reason, I had to do it in person."
"Why?"
She hesitated. "I dont know . . . ," she said, trailing off, and the way she said it made him believe her. The gravel ched beh their feet as they walked in silence for a few steps. Then he asked:
"Allie, do you love him?"
She answered automatically. "Yes, I love him."
The words hurt. But agaihought he heard something ione, as if she were saying it to vince herself. He stopped aly took her shoulders in his hands, making her face him. The fading sunlight reflected in her eyes as he spoke.
"If youre happy, Allie, and you love him, I wont try to stop yoing ba. But if theres a part of you that isnt sure, then dont do it. This isnt the kind of thing you go into halfway."
Her answer came almost too quickly. "Im making the right decision, Noah."
He stared for a sed, w if he believed her. Then he nodded and the two began to walk again. After a moment he said: "Im not making this easy for you, am I?"
She smiled a little. "Its okay. I really t blame you."
"Im sorry anyway."
"Doheres no reason to be sorry. Im the one who should be apologizing. Maybe I should have written."
He shook his head. "To be ho, Im still glad you came. Despite everything. Its good to see you again."
"Thank you, Noah."
"Do you think it would be possible to start over (began again)?”
She looked at him curiously.
"You were the best friend I ever had, Allie. Id still like to be friends, even if you are engaged, and even if it is just for a couple of days. How about we just kind of get to know each ain?"
She thought about it, thought about staying or leaving, and decided that since he knew about her e, it would probably be all right. Or at least n.
She smiled slightly and nodded. "Id like that."
"Good. How about dinner? I knolace that serves the best crab in town."
"Sounds great. Where?"
"My house. Ive had the traps out all week, and I saw that I had some good ones caged a couple days ago. Do you mind?"
"No, that sounds fine."
He smiled and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Great. Theyre at the dock. Ill just be a couple of minutes."
Allie watched him walk away and noticed the tension shed felt when telling him about her e was beginning to fade. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands through her hair ahe light breeze fan her cheek. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, feeling the muscles in her shoulders further relax as she exhaled. Finally, opening her eyes, she stared at the beauty that surrounded her.
She always loved evenings like this, evenings where the faint aroma of autumn leaves rode on the backs of soft southern winds. She loved the trees and the sounds they made. Listening to them helped her relax even more. After a moment, she turoward Noah and looked at him almost as a stranger might.
God, he looked good. Even after all this time. She watched him as he reached for a rope that hung ier. He began to pull it, ae the darkening sky, she saw the muscles in his arm flex as he lifted the cage from the water. He let it hang over the river for a moment and shook it, letting most of the water escape. After setting the trap on the dock, he ope and began to remove the crabs one by one, plag them into a bucket.
She started walking toward him then, listening to the crickets chirp, and remembered a lesson from childhood. She ted the number of chirps in a minute and added twenty-nine. Sixty-seven degrees, she thought as she smiled to herself. She didnt know if it was accurate, but it felt abht.
As she walked, she looked around and realized she had fotten how fresh aiful everything seemed here. Over her shoulder, she saw the house in the distance. He had left a couple of lights on, and it seemed to be the only house around. At least the only oh electricity. Out here, outside the town limits, nothing was certain. Thousands of try homes still lacked the luxury of indhting.
She stepped on the dod it creaked under her foot. The sound reminded her of a rusty squeeze-box, and Noah glanced up and wihe back to cheg the crabs, making sure they were the right size. She walked to the rocker that sat on the dod touched it, running her hand along the back. She could picture him sitting in it, fishing, thinking, reading. It was old aher-beaten, rough feeling.
She wondered how much time he spent here alone, and she wondered about his thoughts at times like those.
"It was my daddys chair," he said, not looking up, and she nodded. She saw bats in the sky, and frogs had joihe crickets in their evening harmony.
She walked to the other side of the dock, feeling a sense of closure. A pulsion had driven her here, and for the first time in three weeks the feeling was gone.
Shed somehow needed Noah to know about her e, to uand, to accept it - she was sure of that now - and while thinking of him, she was reminded of something theyd shared from the summer they were together. With head down, she paced around slowly, looking for it until she found it - the carving.
Noah loves Allie,
in a heart. Carved into the dock a few days before shed left.
A breeze broke the stillness and chilled her, making her cross her arms. She stood that way, alternately looking down at the carving and then toward the river, until she heard him reach her side. She could feel his closeness, his warmth, as she spoke.
"Its so peaceful here," she said, her voice dreamlike.
"I know. I e down here a lot now just to be close to the water. It makes me feel good."
"I would, too, if I were you."
"e os go. The mosquitoes are getting vicious, and Im starved."
The sky had turned black, and Noah started toward the house, Allie right beside him.
In the silence her mind wandered, and she felt a little light-headed as she walked along the path. She wondered what he was thinking about her being here and wasly sure if she knew herself. When they reached the house a couple of minutes later, Clem greeted them with a wet nose in the wrong plaoah motioned her away, and she left with her tail between her legs.
He poio her car. "Did you leave anything ihat you o get out?"
"No, I got in earlier and unpacked already." Her voice sounded different to her, as if the years had suddenly been undone.
"Good enough," he said as he reached the back pord started up the steps. He set the bucket by the door, thehe way inside, heading toward the kit.
It was on the immediate right, large and smelling of new wood. The ets had been done in oak, as was the floor, and the windows were large and faced east, allowing the light from m sun. It was a tasteful restoration, not overdone as was on when homes like this were rebuilt.
"Do you mind if I look around?"
"No, go ahead. I did some shopping earlier, and I still have to put the groceries away."
Their eyes met for a sed, and Allie knew as she turhat he tio watch her as she left the room. Inside she felt that little twitch again.
She toured the house for the few minutes, walking through the rooms, notig how wonderful it looked. By the time shed finished, it was hard to remember how run-down it had been. She came dowairs, turoward the kit, and saw his profile. For a sed he looked like a young man of seventeen again, and it made her pause a split sed befoing on. Damn, she thought, get a hold of yourself. Remember that youre engaged now.
He was standing by the ter, a couple of et doors open wide, empty grocery bags on the floor, whistling quietly. He smiled at her before putting a few more s into one of the ets. She stopped a few feet from him and leaned against the ter, one leg over the other. She shook her head, amazed at how much he had done.
"Its unbelievable, Noah. How long did the restoration take?"
He looked up from the last bag he was unpag. "Almost a year."
"Did you do it yourself?"
He laughed under his breath. "No. I always thought I would when I was young, and I started that way. But it was just too much. It would have taken years, and so I ended up hiring some people.., actually a lot of people. But even with them, it was still a lot of work, and most of the time I didnt stop until past midnight."
"Whyd you work so hard?"
Ghosts, he wao say, but didnt. "I dont know. Just wao finish, I guess. Do you want anything to drink before I start dinner?”
"What do you have?"
"Not much, really. Beer, tea, coffee."
"Tea sounds good."
He gathered the grocery bags and put them away, then walked to a small room off the kit before returning with a box of tea. He pulled out a couple of teabags ahem by the stove, then filled the teapot. After putting it on the burner, he lit a match, and she heard the sound of flames as they came to life.
"Itll be just a minute," he said. "This stove heats up pretty quick."
"Thats fine."
Wheeapot whistled, he poured two cups and handed oo her.
She smiled and took a sip, then motiooward the window. "Ill bet the kit is beautiful when the m light shines in."
He nodded. "It is. I had larger windows put in on this side of the house for just that reason. Even in the bedrooms upstairs."
"Im sure yuests enjoy that. Unless of course they want to sleep late."
"Actually, I havent had any guests stay over yet. Since my daddy passed on, I dont really know who to invite."
By his tone, she knew he was just making versatio for some reason it made her feel.., lonely. He seemed to realize how she was feeling, but before she could dwell on it, he ged the subject.
"Im going to get the crabs in to marieep or soak (meat or fish) in a spicy sauce) for a few minutes before I steam em," he said, putting his cup on the ter. He went to the cupboard and removed a large pot with a steamer and lid. He brought the pot to the sink, added water, then carried it to the stove.
" I give you a hand with something?"
He answered over his shoulder. "Sure. How about cutting up some vegetables for the fryer. Theres plenty in the icebox, and you find a bowl over there."
He motioo the et he sink, and she took another sip of tea before setting her cup on the ter arieving the bowl. She carried it to the icebox and found some okra, zui, onions, and carrots otom shelf. Noah joined her in front of the open door, and she moved to make room for him. She could smell him as he stood o her - , familiar, distinctive - a his arm brush against her as he leaned over and reached inside. He removed a beer and a bottle of hot sauce, theuro the stove.
Noah opehe beer and poured it ier, then added the hot saud some other seasoning as well. After stirring the water to make sure the powders were dissolved, he went to the back door to get the crabs.
He paused for a moment befoing baside and stared at Allie, watg her cut the carrots. As he did that, he wondered again why she had e, especially now that she was engaged. None of this seemed to make much seo him.
But then, Allie had always been surprising. He smiled to himself, remembering back to the way she had been. Fiery, spontaneous, passionate - as he imagined most artists to be. And she was defihat. Artistic talent like hers was a gift. He remembered seeing some paintings in the museums in New York and thinking that her work was just as good as what he had seen there.
She had given him a painting before shed left that summer. It hung above the firepla the living room. Shed called it a picture of her dreams, and to him it had seemed extremely sensual. When he looked at it, aen did late in the evening, he could see desire in the colors and the lines, and if he focused carefully, he could imagine what she had been thinking with every stroke.
A dog barked in the distance, and Noah realized he had been standing with the door open a long time. He quickly closed it, turning back to the kit. And as he walked, he wondered if she had noticed how long hed been gone.
"Hows it going?" he asked, seeing she was almost finished.
"Good. Im almost done here. Anything else for dinner?"
"I have some homemade bread that I lanning on."
"Homemade?"
"From a neighbor," he said as he put the pail in the sink. He started the faucet and began to rihe crabs, holding them uhe water, theing them scurry around the sink while he rihe one. Allie picked up her cup and came over to watch him.
"Arent you afraid theyll pinch you when you grab them?"
"No. Just grab em like this," he said, demonstrating, and she smiled.
"I fet youve dohis your whole life."
"New Berns small, but it does teach you how to do the things that matter."
She leaned against the ter, standing close to him, aied her cup. When the crabs were ready he put them i oove. He washed his hands, turning to speak to her as he did so.
"You want to sit on the porch for a few minutes? Id like to let em soak for a half hour."
"Sure," she said.
He wiped his hands, and together they went to the back poroah flipped on the light as they went outside, a in the older rocker, the newer oo her. When he saw her cup was empty, he went inside for a moment and emerged with another cup of tea and a beer for himself. He held out the cup and she took it, sipping again before she set it oable beside the chairs.
"You were sitting out here when I came, werent you?"
He answered as he made himself fortable. "Yeah. I sit out here every night. Its a habit now."
"I see why," she said as she looked around. "So, what is it you do these days?"
"Actually, I dont do anything but work on the house right now. It satisfies my creative urges."
"How you... I mean..."
"Moldman."
"Excuse me?"
He smiled. "My old boss from up north. His name was Moldman. He offered me a part of the business just as I enlisted and died before I got home. When I got back to the States, his lawyers gave me a check big enough to buy this plad fix it up."
She laughed under her breath. "You always told me youd find a way to do it."
They both sat quietly for a moment, thinking back again. Allie took another sip of tea. "Do you remember sneaking over here the night you first told me about this place?"
He nodded, and she went on:
"I got home a little late that evening, and my parents were furious when I finally came in. I still picture my daddy standing in the living room smoking a cigarette, my mother on the sofa staring straight ahead. I swear, they looked as if a family member had died. That was the first time my parents knew I was serious about you, and my mother had a long talk with me later that night. She said to me, Im sure you think that I dont uand what yoing through, but I do. Its just that sometimes, our future is dictated by what we are, as opposed to what we want. I remember being really hurt when she said that."
"You told me about it the day. It hurt my feelings, too. I liked your parents, and I had no idea they didnt like me."
"It wasnt that they didnt like you. They didnt think you deserved me."
"Theres not much difference."
There was a sadness in his voice when he responded, and she knew he was right to feel that way. She looked toward the stars while she ran her hand through her hair, pulling back the strands that had fallen onto her face.
"I know that. I always did. Maybe thats why my mother and I always seem to have a distaween us whealk."
"How do you feel about it now?"
"The same as I did back then. That its wrong, that it isnt fair. It was a terrible thing firl to learn. That status is more important than feelings.
Noah smiled softly at her answer but said nothing.
"Ive thought about you ever sihat summer, she said.
"You have?"
"Why wouldnt you think so?" She seemed genuinely surprised.
"You never answered my letters."
"You wrote?”
"Dozens of letters. I wrote you for two years without receiving a single reply."
She slowly shook her head before l her eyes. "I didnt know... ," she finally said, quietly, and he k must have been her mother, cheg the mail, removing the letters without her knowledge. It was what he had always suspected, ached as Allie came to the same realization.
"It was wrong of her to do that, Noah, and Im sorry she did. But try to uand. Once I left, she probably thought it would be easier for me to just let it go. She never uood how mueant to me, and to be ho, I dont even know if she ever loved my father the way I loved you. In her mind, she was just trying to protect my feelings, and she probably thought the best way to do that was to hide the letters you sent."
"That wasnt her decision to make," he said quietly.
"I know."
"Would it have made a difference even if youd got them?"
"Of course. I always wondered what you were up to."
"No, I mean with us. Do you think we would have made it?"
It took a moment for her to answer. "I dont know, Noah. I really dont, and you doher. Were not the same people we were then. Weve ged, weve grown. Both of us."
She paused. He didnt respond, and in the silence she looked toward the creek. She went on: "But yes, Noah, I think we would have. At least, Id like to think we would have."
He nodded, looked down, then turned away. "Whats Lon like?"
She hesitated, not expeg the question. Bringing up Lons name brought slight feelings of guilt to the surface, and for a moment she didnt know how to answer.
She reached for her cup, took another sip of tea, and listened as a woodpecker tapped in the distance. She spoke quietly. "Lons handsome, charming, and successful, and most of my friends are insanely jealous. They think hes perfect, and in a lot of ways he is. Hes kind to me, he makes me laugh, and I know he loves me in his own way." She paused for a moment, colleg her thoughts. "But theres always going to be something missing in our relationship."
She surprised herself with her answer but k was true heless. And she also knew by looking at him that Noah had suspected the answer in advance.
"Why?"
She smiled weakly and shrugged as she answered. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I guess I still look for the kind of love we had that summer."
Noah thought about what she had said for a long while, thinking about the relationships hed 藏书网had since hed last seen her.
"How about you?" she asked. "Did you ever think about us?"
"All the time. I still do."
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No," he answered, shaking his head.
Both of them seemed to think about that, trying but finding it impossible to displace from their minds. Noah finished his beer, surprised that he had emptied it so quickly.
"Im going to go start the water. I get you anything?"
She shook her head, and Noah went to the kit and put the crabs ieamer and the bread in the oven. He found some flour and starch for the vegetables, coated them, and put some grease into the frying pan. After turning the heat on low, he set a timer and pulled another beer from the icebox before heading back to the porch. And while he was doing those things, he thought about Allie and the love that was missing from both their lives.
Allie, too, was thinking. About Noah, about herself, about a lot of things. For a moment she wished she werent engaged but then quickly cursed herself. It wasnt Noah she loved; she loved what they once had been. Besides, it was normal to feel this way. Her first real love, the only man shed ever been with - how could she expect tet him? Yet was it normal for her io twitch whenever he came near? Was it normal to fess things she could ell anyone else? Was it normal to e here three weeks from her wedding day?
"No, its not," she finally whispered to herself as she looked to the evening sky. "Theres nothing normal about any of this."
Noah came out at that moment and she smiled at him, glad hed e back so she didnt have to think about it anymore. "Its going to take a few minutes," he said as he sat back down.
"Thats fine. Im not that hungry yet."
He looked at her then, and she saw the softness in his eyes. "Im glad you came, Allie," he said.
"Me too. I almost didnt, though."
"Why did you e?"
I was pelled, she wao say, but didnt. "Just to see you, to find out what youve been up to. To see how you are."
He wondered if that was all but didnt question further. Instead he ged the subject.
"By the way, Ive been meaning to ask, do you still paint?"
She shook her head. "Not anymore."
He was stunned. "Why not? You have so much talent."
"I dont know "
"Sure you do. You stopped for a reason."
He was right. Shed had a reason." Its a long story."
"Ive got all night," he answered.
"Did you really think I was talented?" she asked quietly.
"," he said, reag for her hand, "I want to show you something."
She got up and followed him through the door to the living room. He stopped in front of the fireplad poio the painting that hung above the mantel. She gasped, surprised she hadnt noticed it earlier, more surprised it was here at all. "You kept it?"
"Of course I kept it. Its wonderful."
She gave him a skeptical look, and he explained. "It makes me feel alive when I look at it. Sometimes I have to get up and touch it. Its just so real - the shapes, the shadows, the colors. I even dream about it sometimes. Its incredible, Allie - I stare at it for hours."
"Youre serious," she said, shocked.
"As serious as Ive ever been."
She didnt say anything.
"You mean to tell me no one has ever told you that before?"
"My professor did," she finally said, "but I guess I didnt believe him."
He khere was more. Allie looked away before tinuing. "Ive been drawing and painting since I was a child. I guess that once I got a little older, I began to think I was good at it. I e, too. I remember w on this painting that summer, adding to it every day, ging it as our relationship ged. I dont even remember how it started or what I wa to be, but somehow it evolved into this. I remember being uo stop painting after I went home that summer. I think it was my way of avoiding the pain I was going through. Anyway, I ended up maj in art in college because it was something I had to do; I remember spending hours iudio all by myself and enjoying every minute. I loved the freedom I felt when I created, the way it made me feel io make somethiiful. Just before I graduated, my professor, who happeo also be the critic for the paper, told me I had a lot of talent. He told me I should try my luck as an artist. But I didnt listen to him."
She stopped there, gatherihoughts. "My parents didnt think it roper for someone like me to paint for a living. I just stopped after a while. I havent touched a brush in years."
She stared at the painting.
"Do you think youll ever paint again?"
"Im not sure if I anymore. Its been a long time."
"You still do it, Allie. I know you . You have a talent that es from inside you, from your heart, not from your fingers. What you have t ever go away. Its what other people only dream about. Youre an artist, Allie."
The words were spoken with such siy that she knew he wasnt saying it just to be nice. He truly believed in her ability, and for some reason that meant more to her than she expected. But something else happehen, something even more powerful.
Why it happened, she never knew, but this was when the chasm began to close for Allie, the chasm she had erected in her life to separate the pain from the pleasure. And she suspected then, maybe not sciously, that there was more to this than even she cared to admit.
But at that moment she still wasnt pletely aware of it, and she turo face him. She reached over and touched his hand, hesitantly, gently, amazed that after all these years hed somehow knowly what shed o hear. When their eyes locked, she once again realized how special he was.
And for just a fleeting moment, a tiny wisp of time that hung in the air like fireflies in summer skies, she wondered if she was in love with him again.
The timer went off i, a small ding, and Noah turned away, breaking the moment, strangely affected by what had just happened between them. Her eyes had spoken to him and whispered something he loo hear, yet he couldnt stop the voiside his head, her voice, that had told him of her love for another man. He silently cursed the timer as he walked to the kit and removed the bread from the oven. He almost burned his fingers, dropped the loaf on the ter, and saw that the frying pan was ready. He added the vegetables and heard them begin to crackle. Then, muttering to himself, he got some butter out of the icebox, spread some on the bread, aed a bit more for the crabs.
Allie had followed him into the kit and cleared her throat. " I get the table ready?"
Noah used the bread knife as a pointer. "Sure, plates are over there. Utensils and napkins there. Make sure you get plenty - crabs be messy, so well need em."
He couldnt look at her as he spoke. He didnt want to realize hed been mistaken about what had just happened between them. He didnt want it to be a mistake.
Allie, too, was w about the moment and feeling warm as she thought of it. The words hed spoken replayed in her head as she found everything she needed for the table: plates, place settings, salt and pepper. Noah handed her the bread as she was finishing the table, and their fiouched briefly.
He turned his attention back to the frying pan and turhe vegetables. He lifted the lid of the steamer, saw the crabs still had a minute, ahem cook some more. He was more posed now auro small talk, easy versation. "Have you ever had crab before?"
"A couple of times. But only in salads."
He laughed. "Then youre in for an adventure. Hold on a sed." He disappeared upstairs for a moment, theurned with a navy blue button-down shirt. He held it open for her.
"Herbbr>藏书网e, put this on. I dont want you to stain your dress."
Allie put it on and smelled the fragrahat lingered in the shirt - his smell, distinctive, natural.
"Dont worry," he said, seeing her expression, "its ."
She laughed. "I know. It just reminds me of our first real date. You gave me your jacket that night, remember?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Fin and Sarah were with us. Fi elbowihe whole way back to your parents house, trying to get me to hold your hand."
"You didnt, though."
"No," he answered, shaking his head.
"Why not?"
"Shy, maybe, or afraid. I dont know. It just didnt seem like the right thing to do at the time."
"e to think of it, you were kind of shy, werent you?"
"I prefer the words quiet fidence," he answered with a wink, and she smiled.
The vegetables and crabs were ready about the same time. "Be careful, theyre hot," he said as he hahem to her, and they sat across from each other at the small wooden table. Then, realizing the tea was still on the ter, Allie stood and brought it over. After putting some vegetables and bread on their plates, Noah added a crab, and Allie sat for a moment, staring at it.
"It looks like a bug."
"A good bug, though," he said. "Here, let me show you how its done."
He demonstrated quickly, making it look easy, removing the meat and putting it on her plate.
Allie crushed the legs too hard the first time and the time after that, and had to use her fio get the shells away from the meat. She felt clumsy at first, w that he saw every mistake, but then she realized her own insecurity. He didnt care about things like that. He never had.
"So, whatever happeo Fin?" she asked. It took a sed for him to answer.
"Fin died in the war. His destroyer was torpedoed in forty-three."
"Im sorry," she said. "I know he was a good friend of yours."
His voice ged, a little deeper now. "He was. I think of him a lot these days. I especially remember the last time I saw him. Id e home to say good-bye before I enlisted, and we ran into each ain. He was a banker here, like his daddy was, and he and I spent a lot of time together over the week. Sometimes I think I talked him into joining. I dont think he would have, except that I was going to."
"Thats not fair," she said, sorry shed brought up the subject.
"Youre right. I just miss him, is all."
"I liked him, too. He made me laugh."
"He was always good at that."
She looked at him slyly. "He had a crush on me, you know."
"I know. He told me about it."
"He did? What did he say?"
Noah shrugged. "The usual for him. That he had to fight you off with a stick. That you chased him stantly, that sort of thing."
She laughed quietly. "Did you believe him?"
"Of course," he answered, "why wouldnt I?"
"You men always stick together," she said as she reached across the table, poking his arm with her finger. She went on. "So, tell me everything youve been up to since I saw you last."
They started to talk then, making up for lost time. Noah talked about leaving New Bern, about w in the shipyard and at the scrap yard in New Jersey. He spoke fondly of Moldman and touched on the war a little, avoiding most of the details, and told her about his father and how much he missed him. Allie talked about going to college, painting, and her hours spent volunteering at the hospital. She talked about her family and friends and the charities she was involved with. her of them brought up anybody they had dated siheyd last seen each other. Even Lon was ignored, and though both of them noticed the omissioher mentio.
Afterward Allie tried to remember the last time she and Lon had talked this way. Although he listened well and they seldued, he was not the type of man to talk like this. Like her father, he wasnt fortable sharing his thoughts and feelings. Shed tried to explain that she o be closer to him, but it had never seemed to make a difference.
But sitting here now, she realized what shed been missing.
The sky grew darker and the moon rose higher as the evening wore on. And without either of them being scious of it, they began taiimacy, the bond of familiarity, they had once shared.
They finished dinner, both pleased with the meal, her talking muow. Noah looked at his watd saw that it was getting late. The stars were out in full, the crickets a little quieter. He had ealking to Allie and wondered if hed talked too much, wondered what shed thought about his life, hoping it would somehow make a difference, if it could.
Noah got up and refilled the teapot. They both brought the dishes to the sink and ed up the table, and he poured two more cups of hot water, adding teabags to both.
"How about the porch again?" he asked, handihe cup, and she agreed, leading the way. He grabbed a quilt for her in case she got cold, and soon they had taken their places again, the quilt over her legs, rockers moving. Noah watched her from the er of his eye. God, shes beautiful, he thought. And inside, he ached.
For something had happened during dinner. Quite simply, he had fallen in love again. He khat now as they sat o one another. Fallen in love with a new Allie, not just her memory. But then, he had never really stopped, and this, he realized, was his destiny.
"Its been quite a night," he said, his voice softer now.
"Yes, it has," she said, "a wonderful night."
Noah turo the stars, their twinkling lights reminding him that she would be leaving soon, and he felt almost empty ihis was a night he wanted o end. How should he tell her? What could he say that would make her stay?
He didnt know. And thus the decision was made to say nothing. And he realized then that he had failed.
The rockers moved in quiet rhythm. Bats again, over the river. Moths kissing the porch light. Somewhere, he khere were people making love.
"Talk to me," she finally said, her voice sensual. Or was his mind playing tricks?
"What should I say?"
"Talk like you did to me uhe oak tree."
And he did, reg distant passages, toasting the night. Whitman and Thomas, because he loved the images. Tennyson and Browning, because their themes felt so familiar.
She rested her head against the back of the rocker, closing her eyes, growing just a bit warmer by the time hed finished. It wasnt just the poems or his voice that did it. It was all of it, the whole greater than the sum of the parts. She didnt try to break it down, didnt want to, because it was to be listeo that oetry, she thought, wasnt written to be analyzed; it was meant to inspire without reason, to touch without uanding.
Because of him, shed goo a few poetry readings offered by the English department while in college. Shed sat and listeo different people, different poems, but had stopped soon after, disced that no one inspired her or seemed as inspired as true lovers of poetry should be.
They rocked for a while, drinking tea, sitting quietly, drifting ihoughts.
The pulsion that had driven her here was gone now - she was glad for this - but she worried about the feelings that had taken its place, the stirrings that had begun to sift and swirl in her pores like gold dust in river pans. Shed tried to deny them, hide from them, but now she realized that she didnt want them to stop. It had been years since shed felt this way.
Lon could not evoke these feelings in her. He never had and probably never would. Maybe that was why she had never been to bed with him. He had tried before, many times, using everything from flowers to guilt, and she had always used the excuse that she wao wait until marriage. He took it well, usually, and she sometimes wondered how hurt he would be if he ever found out about Noah.
But there was something else that made her want to wait, and it had to do with Lon himself. He was driven in his work, and it always anded most of his attention. Work came first, and for him there was no time for poems and wasted evenings and rog on porches. She khis was why he was successful, and part of her respected him for that. But she also se wasnt enough. She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps, or maybe quiet versations in dlelit rooms, or perhaps something as simple as not being sed.
Noah, too, was sifting through his thoughts. To him, the evening would be remembered as one of the most special times he had ever had. As he rocked, he remembered it all iail, then remembered it again. Everything she had done seemed somehow electri, charged.
Now, sitting beside her, he wondered if shed ever dreamed the same things he had in the years theyd been apart. Had she ever dreamed of them holding each ain and kissing in soft moonlight? Or did she go further and dream of their naked bodies, which had bee separate for far too long ...
He looked to the stars and remembered the thousands of empty nights he had spent siheyd last seen each other. Seeing her again brought all those feelings to the surface, and he found it impossible to press them back down. He khen he wao make love tain and to have her love iurn. It was what he needed most in the world.
But he also realized it could never be. Now that she was engaged.
Allie knew by his silehat he was thinking about her and found that she reveled in it. She didnt know what his thoughts were exactly, didnt care really, just khey were about her and that was enough.
She thought about their versation at dinner and wondered about loneliness. For some reason she couldnt picture him reading poetry to someone else or even sharing his dreams with another woman. He didhe type. Either that, or she didnt want to believe it.
She put dowea, then ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes as she did so.
"Are you tired?" he asked, finally breaking free from his thoughts.
"A little. I should really be going in a couple of minutes."
"I know," he said, nodding, his toral. She did up right away. Instead she picked up the cup and drank the last swallow of tea, feeling it warm her throat.
She took the evening in. Moon higher now, wind irees, temperature dropping.
She looked at Noah . The scar on his face was visible from the side. She wondered if it had happened during the war, then wondered if hed ever been wou all. He hadio and she hadnt asked, mostly because she didnt want to imagine him being hurt.
"I should go," she finally said, handing the quilt ba.
Noah hen stood without a word. He carried the quilt, and the two of them walked to her car while fallen leaves ched beh their feet. She started to take off the shirt hed loaned her as he opehe door, but he stopped her.
"Keep it," he said. "I want you to have it."
She didnt ask why, because she wao keep it, too. She readjusted it and crossed her arms afterward to ward off the chill. For some reason, as she stood there she was reminded of standing on her front porch after a high school dance, waiting for a kiss.
"I had a great time tonight," he said. "Thank you for finding me."
"I did, too," she answered.
He summoned his ce. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
A simple question. She knew what the answer should be, especially if she wao keep her life simple. "I dont think we should," was all she had to say, and it would end right here and now. But for a sed she didnt say anything.
The demon of choice fronted her then, teased her, challenged her. Why couldnt she say it? She didnt know. But as she looked in his eyes to find the answer she needed, she saw the man shed once fallen in love with, and suddenly it all came clear. "Id like that."
Noah was surprised. He hadnt expected her to ahis way. He wao touch her then, to take her in his arms, but he didnt. " you be here about noon?"
"Sure. What do you want to do?"
"Youll see," he answered. "I know just the place to go."
"Have I ever been there before?"
"No, but its a special place."
"Where is it?"
"Its a surprise."
"Will I like it?"
"Youll love it," he said.
She turned away before he could attempt a kiss. She didnt know if he would try but knew for some reason that if he did, she would have a hard time stopping him. She couldnt hahat right now, with everything going through her head. She slid behind the wheel, breathing a sigh of relief. He shut the door for her, and she started the engine. As the car idled, she rolled down the window just a bit.
"See you tomorrow," she said, her eyes refleg the moonlight.
Noah waved as she backed the car out. She tur around, then drove up the lane, heading toward towched the car until the lights vanished behind far-off oak trees and the engine noise was gone.
Clem wandered up to him and he squatted down to pet her, paying special attention to her neck, scratg the spot she couldnt reaymore. After he looked up the road one last time, they returo the back porch side by side.
He sat in the rain, this time alorying once again to fathom the evening that had just passed. Thinking about it. Replaying it. Seeing it again. Hearing it again. Running it by in slow motion. He didnt feel like playing his guitar now, didnt feel like reading. Didnt know what he felt.
"Shes engaged," he finally whispered, and then was silent for hours, his rocker making the only he night was quiet now, with little activity except for Clem, who visited him occasionally, cheg on him as if to ask "Are you all right?"
And sometime after midnight on that clear October evening, it all rushed inward and Noah was overe with longing. And if anyone had seen him, they would have seen what looked like an old man, someone whod aged a lifetime in just a couple of hours. Someo over in his rocker with his fa his hands and tears in his eyes. He didnt know how to stop them.
Phone calls
Lon hung .9９ｌiｂ. The thought popped into his head just then. Yes, New Bern. That was it. The little detail, or part of it. What else, though?
New Berhought again, and khe name. Khe town a little, mainly from a few trials he had been in. Stopped there a few times on the way to the coast. Nothing special. He and Allie had never beeogether.
But Allie had been there before ... And the rack tightes grip, another part ing together.
Another part.., but there was more ...
Allie, New Bern... and.., and.., something at a party. A ent in passing. From Allies mother. Hed hardly no.. f disbelief at seeing her again. God, what was it about her that made him feel this way? Even after all these years? What sort of power did she have over him?
He finally turned away, shaking his head, a back to the porch. He checked the barometer again. It hadnt ged. Then he looked at his watch. Allie should be here soon.
Allie had finished her bath and was already dressed. Earlier shed opehe window to check the temperature. It wasnt cold outside, and shed decided on a cream-colored spring dress with long sleeves and a high neck. It was soft and fortable, maybe a little snug, but it looked good, and she had selected some white sandals that matched.
She spent the m walking around downtown. The Depression had taken its toll here, but she could see the signs of prosperity beginning to work their way back. The Masonic theater, the oldest active theater in the try, looked a little more run-down but was still operating with a couple of ret movies. Fort Totten Park l.. ooked exactly the same as it had fourteen years ago, and she assumed the kids who played on the swings after school looked the same as well. She smiled at the memory then, thinking back to when things were simpler. Or at least had seemed to be.
Now, it seemed, nothing was simple. It seemed so improbable, everything falling into place as it had, and she wondered what she would have been doing now, had she never seeicle in the paper. It wasnt very difficult to imagine, because her routines seldom ged. It was Wednesday, which meant bridge at the try club, then on to the Junior Womens League, where they would probably be arranging another fund-raiser for the private school or hospital. After that, a visit with her mother, then home to get ready for dinner with Lon, because he made it a point to leave work by seven. It was the one night a week she saw him regularly.
She suppressed a feeling of sadness about that, hoping that one day he would ge. He had often promised to and usually followed through for a few weeks before drifting back to the same schedule. "I t tonight, honey," he would always explain. "Im sorry, but I t. Let me make it up to you later."
She didnt like tue with him about it, mostly because she knew he was telling the truth. Trial work was demanding, both beforehand and during, yet she couldnt help w sometimes why he had spent so much time c her if he didnt want to spend the time with her now.
She passed an art gallery, almost walked by it in her preoccupation, then turned a back. She paused at the door for a sed, surprised at how long it had been since shed been i least three years, maybe longer. Why had she avoided it?
She went inside - it had opened with the rest of the shops on Front Street - and browsed among the paintings. Many of the artists were local, and there was a strong sea flavor to their works. Lots of o ses, sandy beaches, pelis, old sailing ships, tugboats, piers, and seagulls. But most of all, waves. Waves of every shape, size, and aginable, and after a while they all looked alike. The artists were either uninspired or lazy, she thought.
On one wall though, there were a few paintings that more suited her tastes. All were by an artist shed never heard of, Elayn, and most appeared to have been inspired by the architecture of the Greek islands. In the painting she liked the best, she he artist had purposely exaggerated the se with smaller-than-life figures, wide lines, and heavy sweeps of color, as if not pletely focused. Yet the colors were vivid and swirling, drawing the eye in, almost direg what it should see . It was dynamic, dramatic. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it, and she sidered buying it before she realized that she liked it because it reminded her of her own work. She exami more closely and thought to herself that maybe Noah was right. Maybe she should start painting again.
At hirty Allie left the gallery ao Hoffman-Lane, a department store downtown. It took a few mio find what she was looking for, but it was there, in the school supply se. Paper, drawing chalk, and pencils, not high quality but good enough. It wasnt painting, but it was a start, and she was excited by the time she got back to her room. She sat at the desk and started w: nothing specific, just getting the feel of it agaiing shapes and colors flow from the memory of her youth. After a few minutes of abstra, she did a rough sketch of the street se as seen from her room, amazed at how easily it came. It was almost as if shed opped.
She exami when she was finished, pleased with the effort. She wondered what to try and finally decided. Since she didnt have a model, she visualized it in her head before starting. And though it was harder thareet se, it came naturally and began to take form.
Minutes passed quickly. She worked steadily but checked the time frequently so she woulde, and she fi a little before noon. It had taken almost two hours, but the e surprised her. It looked as though it had taken a great deal longer. After rolling it up, she put it in a bag and collected the rest of her things. On her way out the door, she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling oddly relaxed, ly sure why.
Dowairs again and out the door. As she left she heard a voice behind her.
"Miss?"
She turned, knowing it was directed at her. The manager. Same man as yesterday, a curious look on his face.
"Yes?"
"You had some calls last night."
She was shocked. "I did?"
"Yes. All from a Mr. Hammond."
Oh, God. "Lon called?"
"Yes, maam, four times. I talked to him when he called the sed time. He was rather ed about you. He said he was your fiancé."
She smiled weakly, trying to hide what she was thinking. Four times? Four? What could that mean? What if something had happened bae?
"Did he say anything? Is it an emergency?"
He shook his head quickly. "He really didnt say, miss, but he didion anything. Actually, he sounded more ed about you, though."
Good, she thought. Thats good. And then, just as suddenly, a pang in her chest.
Why the urgency? Why so many calls? Had she said anythierday? Why would he be so persistent? It was pletely unlike him. Is there any way he could have found out? No... that was impossible. Unless someone saw her here yesterday and called ... But they would have had to follow her out to Noahs. No one would have dohat.
She had to call him now; no way to get around it. But she didnt want to, strangely. This was her time, and she wao spend it doing what she wanted. She hadnt planned on speaking to him until later, and for some reason she felt almost as if talking to him now would spoil the day. Besides, what was she going to say? How could she explain being out so late? A late dinner and then a walk? Maybe. Or a movie? Or...
"Miss?"
Almost noon, she thought. Where would he be? His office, probably... No. In court, she suddenly realized, and immediately felt as if shed been released from shackles.
There was no way she could talk to him, even if she wao. She was surprised by her feelings. She shouldhis way, she knew, a didnt bother her. She looked at her watch, ag now. "Is it really almost twelve?"
The manager nodded after looking at the clock. "Yes, a quarter till, actually."
"Unfortunately," she started, "hes in court right now and I t reach him. If he does call again, could you tell him Im shopping and that Ill try to call him later?"
"Of course," he answered. She could see the question in his eyes, though: But where were you last night?
He had knowly when shed e in. Too late for a single woman in this small town, she was sure.
"Thank you," she said, smiling. "Id appreciate it."
Two minutes later she was in her car, driving to Noahs, anticipating the day, largely uned about the phone calls. Yesterday she would have been, and she wondered what that meant.
As she was driving over the drawbridge less than four minutes after shed left the inn, Lon called from the courthouse.
Noah was sitting in his rocker, drinking sweet tea, listening for the car, when he finally heard it turn up the drive. He went around front and watched the car pull up and park beh the oak tree again. Same spot as yesterday. Clem barked a greeting at her car door, tail wagging, and he saw Allie wave from ihe car.
She stepped out, patted Clem on the head while she cooed at her, then turned, smiling at Noah as he walked toward her. She looked more relaxed thaerday, more fident, and again he felt a slight shock at seeing her. It was different from yesterday, though. Newer feelings now, not simply memories anymore. If anything, his attra for her had grown stronger ht, more intense, and it made him feel a little nervous in her presence.
Allie met him halfway, carrying a small bag in one hand. She surprised him by kissing him gently on the cheek, her free hand lingering at his waist after she pulled back.
"Hi," she said, radian her eyes, "wheres the surprise?"
He relaxed a little, thanking God for that. "Not even a Good afternoon or How was yht?"
She smiled. Patience had never been one of her stro attributes. "Fine. Good afternoon. How was yht? And wheres the surprise?"
He chuckled lightly, then paused. "Allie, Ive got some bad news."
"?９９ｌｉb? What?"
&..quot;I was going to take you someplace, but with those clouds ing in, Im not sure we should go."
"Why?"
"The storm. Well be outside and might get wet. Besides, there might be lightning."
"Its not raini. How far is it?"
"Up the creek about a mile."
"And Ive never been there before?"
"Not when it was like this."
She thought for a sed while she looked around. When she spoke, her voice was determined.
"Then well go. I dont care if it rains."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
He looked at the clouds again, noting their approach. "Then wed better go now," he said. " I bring that in for you?"
She nodded, handing her bag to him, and he jogged to the house and brought it inside, where he placed it on a chair in the living room. Then he grabbed some bread and put it in a bag, bringing it with him as he left the house.
They walked to the oe, Allie beside him. A little closer thaerday.
"What exactly is this place?"
"Youll see."
"Youre not even going to give me a hint?"
"Well," he said, "do you remember wheook the oe out and watched the sun e up?"
"I thought about it this m. I remember it made me cry."
"What yoing to see today makes what you saw then seem ordinary."
"I guess I should feel special."
He took a few steps before responding.
"You are special," he finally said, and the way he said it made her wonder if he wao add something else. But he didnt, and Allie smiled a little beflang away. As she did, she felt the wind in her fad noticed it had picked up sihe m. They reached the dock a moment later. After tossing the bag in the oe, Noah quickly checked to make sure he hadnt missed anything, then slid the oe to the water.
" I do anything?"
"No, just get in."
After she climbed in, he pushed the oe farther into the water, close to the dock.
Then he gracefully stepped off the doto the oe, plag his feet carefully to prevent the oe from capsizing. Allie was impressed by his agility, knowing that what he had done so quickly and easily was harder than it looked.
Allie sat at the front of the oe, fag backward. He had said something about missing the view whearted to paddle, but shed shaken her head, saying she was fihe way she was. And it was true.
She could see everything she really wao see if she turned her head, but most of all she wao watoah. It was him shed e to see, not the creek. His shirt was unbutto the top, and she could see his chest muscles flex with every stroke. His sleeves were rolled up, too, and she could see the muscles in his arms bulging slightly. His muscles were well developed there from paddling every m.
Artistic, she thought. Theres something almost artistic about him when he does this.
Something natural, as if being oer were beyond his trol, part of a gene passed on to him from some obscure hereditary pool. Wheched him, she was reminded of how the early explorers must have looked when theyd first discovered this area.
She couldnt think of anyone else who remotely resembled him. He was plicated, almost tradictory in so many ways, yet simple, a strangely erotibination. On the surface he was a try boy, home from war, and he probably saw himself in those terms. Yet there was so much more to him. Perhaps it was the poetry that made him different, or perhaps it was the values his father had instilled in him, growing up. Either way, he seemed to savor life more fully than others appeared to, and that was what had first attracted her to him.
"What are you thinking?"
She felt her insides jump just a bit as Noahs voice brought her back to the present. She realized she hadnt said much siheyd started, and she appreciated the silence he had allowed her. Hed always been siderate like that.
"Good things," she answered quietly, and she saw in his eyes that he knew she was thinking about him. She liked the fact that he k, and she hoped he had been thinking about her as well.
She uood then that something was stirring within her, as it had so many years ago. Watg him, watg his body move, made her feel it. And as their eyes lingered for a sed, she felt the heat in her ned breasts, and she flushed, turning away before he noticed.
"How much farther?" she asked.
"Another half mile or so. Not any more than that."
A pause. Then, she said: "Its pretty out here. So . So quiet. Its almost like going ba time."
"In a way it is, I think. The creek flows from the forest. Theres not a single farm between here and where it starts, and the water is pure as rain. Its probably as pure as its ever been."
She leaoward him. "Tell me, Noah, what do you remember most from the summer we spent together?"
"All of it."
"Anything in particular?"
"No," he said.
"You dont remember?"
He answered after a moment, quietly, seriously. "No, its not that. Its not what youre thinking. I was serious when I said all of it. I remember every moment we were together, and in each of them there was something wonderful. I t really piy oime that meant more than any other. The entire summer erfect, the kind of summer everyone should have. How could I pioment over another?
"Poets often describe love as aion that we t trol, ohat overwhelms logid on sehats what it was like for me. I didnt plan on falling in love with you, and I doubt if you planned on falling in love with me. But once we met, it was clear that her of us could trol what was happening to us. We fell in love, despite our differences, and once we did, something rare aiful was created. For me, love like that has happened only once, and thats why every minute we spent together has been seared (brand) in my memory. Ill never fet a single moment of it."
Allie stared at him. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Ever. She didnt know what to say and stayed silent, her face hot.
"Im sorry if I made you feel unfortable, Allie. I dido. But that summer has stayed with me and probably always will. I know it t be the same between us, but that doesnt ge the way I felt about you then."
She spoke quietly, feeling warm. "It didnt make me unfortable, Noah ... Its just that I dont ever hear things like that. What you said was beautiful. It takes a poet to talk the way you do, and like I said, youre the only poet Ive ever met."
Peaceful silence desded on them. An osprey cried somewhere in the distance. A mullet splashed he bank. The paddle moved rhythmically, causing baffles that rocked the boat ever so slightly. The breeze had stopped, and the clouds grew blacker as the oved toward some unknowination.
Allie noticed it all, every sound, every thought. Her senses had e alive, invigorating her, and she felt her mind drifting through the last few weeks. She thought abbr>bout the ay ing here had caused her. The shock at seeing the article, the sleepless nights, her short temper during daylight. Eveerday she had been afraid and wao run away. The tension was gone now, every bit of it, replaced by something else, and she was glad about that as she rode in silen the old red oe.
She felt strangely satisfied that shed e, pleased that Noah had turned into the type of mahought he would, pleased that she would live forever with that knowledge. She had seen too many men in the past few years destroyed by war, or time, or even money. It took strength to hold on to inner passion, and Noah had dohat.
This was a workers world, not a poets, and people would have a hard time uanding Noah. America was in full swing now, all the papers said so, and people were rushing forward, leaving behind the horrors of war. She uood the reasons, but they were rushing, like Lon, toward long hours and profits, ing the things that brought beauty to the world.
Who did she know in Raleigh who took time off to fix a house? Or read Whitman or Eliot, finding images in the mind, thoughts of the spirit? Or hunted dawn from the bow of a oe? These werent the things that drove society, but she felt they shouldreated as unimportant. They made living worthwhile. To her it was the same with art, though she had realized it only upon ing here.
Or rather, remembered it. She had known it once before, and again she cursed herself for fetting something as important as creatiy. Painting was what she was meant to do, she was sure of that now. Her feelings this m had firmed it, and she khat whatever happened, she was going to give it another shot. A fair shot, no matter what anyone said.
Would Lon ence her painting? She remembered showing him one of her paintings a couple of months after they had first started going out. It was an abstract painting and was meant to inspire thought. In a way, it resembled the painting above Noahs fireplace, the one Noah uood pletely, though it may have been a touch less passionate. Lon had stared at it, studied it almost, and then had asked her what it was supposed to be. She hadnt bothered to answer.
She shook her head then, knowing she wasnt being pletely fair. She loved Lon, and always had, for other reasons. Though he wasnt Noah, Lon was a good man, the kind of man shed always known she would marry. With Lon there would be no surprises, and there was fort in knowing what the future would bring. He would be a kind husband to her, and she would be a good wife. She would have a home near friends and family, children, a respectable pla society. It was the kind of life shed always expected to live, the kind of life she wao live. And though she wouldnt describe theirs as a passionate relationship, she had vinced herself long ago that this wasnt necessary to be fulfilled in a relationship, even with a persoeo marry. Passion would fade in time, and things like panionship and patibility would take its place. She and Lon had this, and she had assumed this was all she needed.
But now, as she watched Noah rowing, she questiohis basic assumption. He exuded sexuality ihing he did, everything he was, and she caught herself thinking about him in a way that an engaged woman shouldnt. She tried not to stare and glanced away often, but the easy way he moved his body made it hard to keep her eyes from him for long.
"Here we are," Noah said as he guided the oe toward some trees he bank.
Allie looked around, not seeing anything. "Where is it?"
"Here," he said again, pointing the oe at an old tree that had fallen over, obsg an opening almost pletely hidden from view.
He guided the oe around the tree, and both of them had to lower their heads to keep from bumping them.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, and Allie did, bringing her hands to her face. She heard the baffles of the water ahe movement of the oe as he propelled it forward, away from the pull of the creek.
"Okay," he finally said after hed stopped paddling. "You open them now."
Swans and Storms
They sat in the middle of a small lake fed by the waters of Brices Creek. It wasnt large, maybe a hundred yards across, and she was surprised at how invisible it had been just moments before.
It ectacular. Tundra swan and ada geese literally surrouhem. Thousands of them. Birds floating so close together in some places that she couldhe water. From a distahe groups of swans looked almost like icebergs.
"Oh, Noah," she finally said softly, "its beautiful.
They sat in silence for a long while, watg the birds. Noah pointed out a group of chicks, retly hatched, following a pack of geese he shore, struggling to keep up.
The air was filled with honking and chirping as Noah moved the oe through the water. The birds ighem for the most part. The only ones who seemed bothered were those forced to move when the oe approached them. Allie reached out to touch the closest ones aheir feathers ruffling under her fingers.
Noah brought out the bag of bread hed brought earlier and ha to Allie. She scattered the bread, fav the little ones, laughing and smiling as they swam in circles, looking for food.
They stayed until thunder boomed in the distance - faint but powerful - and both of them k was time to leave.
Noah led them back to the current of the creek, paddling strohan he had earlier.
She was still amazed by what she had seen. "Noah, what are they doing here?"
"I dont know. I know the swans from up north migrate to Lake Matamuskeet every winter, but I guess they came here this time. I dont know why. Maybe the early blizzard had something to do with it. Maybe they got off track or something. Theyll find their way back, though."
"They wont stay?"
"I doubt it. Theyre driven by instinct, and this isnt their place. Some of the geese may winter here, but the swans will go baatamuskeet."
Noah paddled hard as dark clouds rolled directly overhead. Soon rain began to fall, a light spri first, then gradually harder. Lig?9９ｌiｂ. htning, a pause, then thunder again. A little louder now. Maybe six or seven miles away. More rain as Noah began to paddle even harder, his muscles tightening with every stroke. Thicker drops now. Falling... Falling with the wind... Falling hard and thick... Noah rowing ... rag the sky.., still getti.., cursing to himself.., losing to Mother Nature...
The downpour was steady now, and Allie watched the rain fall diagonally from the sky, trying to defy gravity as it rode oerly winds that whistled over the trees. The sky darkened a little more, and big heavy drops fell from the clouds. Hurrie drops.
Allie ehe rain and leaned her head back for a moment to let it hit her face. She khe front of her dress would soak through in a couple of minutes, but she didnt care. She did wohough, if he noticed, then thought he probably did. She ran her hands through her hair, feeling its wetness. It felt wonderful, she felt wonderful, everythi wonderful. Even through the rain, she could hear him breathing hard and the sound aroused her sexually in a way she had in years.
A cloud burst directly above them, and the rain began to e down even harder. Harder than shed ever seen it. Allie looked upward and laughed, giving up any attempt at keeping dry, making Noah feel better.
He hadnt known how she was feeling about it. Even though shed made the decision to e, he doubted that shed expected to be caught in a storm like this.
They reached the dock a couple of minutes later, and Noah moved in close enough for Allie to step out. He helped her up, then got out himself and dragged the oe up the bank far enough not to drift away. Just in case, he tied it to the dock, knowing another minute in the rain wouldnt make any difference.
As he was tying the oe, he looked up at Allie and stopped breathing for just a sed. She was incredibly beautiful as she waited, watg him, pletely fortable in the rain. She didnt try to keep dry or hide herself, and he could see the outline of her breasts as they pressed through the fabric of the dress that g tightly to her body. It wasnt a cold rain, but he could see her nipples ered protruding, hard like little rocks. He felt his loins 〔pl.〕【解剖学】腰；耻骨区；生殖器官 begin to stir and quickly turned away, embarrassed, muttering to himself, glad the rain muffled any sound of it. When he finished and stood, Allie took his hand in hers, surprising him. Despite the downpour, they didnt rush toward the house, and Noah imagined what it would be like to spend the night with her.
Allie, too, was w about him. She felt the warmth in his hands and wondered what it would be like to have them touch her body, feeling all of her, lingering slowly across her skin. Just thinking about it made her take a deep breath, and she felt her nipples begin to tingle and a new warmth between her legs.
She realized then that something had ged since shed e here. And although she couldnt pinpoint the exact time - yesterday after dinner, or this afternoon in the oe, or when they saw the swans, or maybe even now as they walked holding hands - she khat she had fallen in love with Noah Taylor Calhoun again, and that maybe, just maybe, she had opped.
There was no uneasiness between them as they reached the door and both of them went inside, pausing in the foyer, clothes dripping. "Did y a ge of clothes?"
She shook her head, still feeling the roll of emotions within her, w if it showed on her face.
"I think I find something here for you so you get out of those clothes. It might be a little big, but its warm."
"Anything," she said.
"Ill be ba a sed."
Noah slipped off his boots, then ran up the stairs, desding a mier. He had a pair of cotton pants and a long-sleeved shirt under one arm and some jeans with a blue shirt iher.
"Here," he said, handihe cotton pants and shirt. "You ge in the bedroom upstairs. Theres a bathroom and towel up there too if you want to shower."
She thanked him with a smile a up the stairs, feeling his eyes on her as she walked. She ehe bedroom and closed the door, thehe pants and shirt on his bed and peeled everything off. Naked, she went to his closet and found a hanger, put her dress, bra, and panties on it, and theo hang it ihroom so it wouldnt drip on the hardwood floor. She felt a secret thrill at being naked in the same room he slept in.
She didnt want to shower after being in the rain. She liked the soft feeling on her skin, and it reminded her of how people used to live long ago. Naturally. Like Noah.
She slipped on his clothes before looking at herself in the mirror. The pants were big, but tug in the shirt helped, and she rolled up the bottoms just a little so they wouldnt drag. The neck was torn a little and it nearly hung off one shoulder, but she liked the way it looked on her anyway. She pulled the sleeves up almost to the elbows, went to the bureau, and slipped on some socks, theo the bathroom to find a hairbrush.
She brushed her wet hair just enough to get out the snarls, letting it rest on her shoulders. Looking in the mirror, she wished she had brought a clasp or a couple of hairpins. And a little more mascara. But what could she do? Her eyes still had a little of what shed put on earlier, and she touched up with a washcloth, doing the best she could. When she was finished, she checked herself in the mirror, feeling pretty despite everything, a back dowairs.
Noah was in the living room squatting before a fire, doing his best to coax it to life. He didnt see her e in, and she watched him as he worked. He had ged his clothes as well and looked good: his shoulders broad, wet hair hanging just over his collar, jeans tight.
He poked the fire, moving the logs, and added some more kindling. Allie leaned against the doorjamb大门柱, one leg crossed over the other, and tio watch him. In a few mihe fire had turo flames, even and steady. He turo the side thten the remaining unused logs and caught a glimpse of her out of the er of his eye. He turned back to her quickly.
Even in his clothes she looked beautiful. After a momeurned away shyly, going back to stag the logs.
"I didnt hear you e in," he said, trying to sound casual.
"I know. You werent supposed to." She knew what he had been thinking a a tinge of amusement at how young he seemed.
"How long have you been standing there?"
"A couple of minutes."
Noah brushed his hands on his pants, then poio the kit. " I get you some tea? I started the water while you were upstairs."
Small talk, anything to keep his mind clear. But damn, the way she looked...
She thought for a sed, saw the way he was looking at her, ahe old instincts take over.
"Do you have anything stronger, or is it too early to drink?"
He smiled. "I have some bourbon in the pantry. Is that okay?"
"That sounds great."
He started toward the kit, and Allie watched him run his hand through his wet hair as he disappeared.
Thunder boomed loudly, and another downpour started. Allie could hear the r of the rain on the roof, could hear the snapping of logs as the flickering flames lit the room. She turo the window and saw the gray sky flash lighter for just a sed. Moments later, another boom of thunder. Close this time.
She took a quilt from the sofa and sat on the rug in front of the fire. Crossing her legs, she adjusted the quilt until she was fortable and watched the dang flames. Noah came back, saw what she had done, ao sit beside her. He put down two glasses and poured some bourbon into each of them.
Outside, the sky grew darker. Thunder again. Loud. The storm in full fury, winds whipping the rain in circles.
"Its quite a storm," Noah said as he watched the drops flow iical streams on the windows. He and Allie were close now, though not toug, and Noah watched her chest rise slightly with every breath, imagining the feel of her body once again before fighting it back.
"I like it," she said, taking a sip. "Ive always liked thuorms. Even as a young girl."
"Why?" Saying anything, keeping his balance.
"I dont know. They just always seemed romantie."
She was quiet for a moment, and Noah watched the fire flicker in her emerald eyes.
Then she said, "Do you remember sitting together and watg the storm a few nights before I left?"
"Of course."
"I used to think about it all the time after I went home. I always thought about how you looked that night. It was the way I always remembered you."
"Have I ged much?"
She took another sip of bourbon, feeling it warm her. She touched his hand as she answered. "Not really. Not ihings that I remember. Youre older, of course, with more life behind you, but youve still got the same gleam in your eye. You still read poetry and float on rivers. And youve still got a gentlehat not even the war could take away."
He thought about what shed said a her hand lingering on his, her thumb trag slow circles.
"Allie, you asked me earlier what I remembered most about the summer. What do you remember?"
It was a while before she answered. Her voice seemed to e from somewhere else. "I remember making love. Thats what I remember most. You were my first, and it was more wonderful than I ever thought it would be."
Noah took a drink of bourbon, remembering, bringing back the old feelings again, then suddenly shook his head. This was already hard enough.
She went on. "I remember being so afraid beforehand that I was trembling, but at the same time being so excited. Im glad you were the first. Im glad we were able to share that."
"Me too."
"Were you as afraid as I was?"
Noah nodded without speaking, and she smiled at his hoy.
"I thought so. You were always shy like that. Especially in the beginning. I remember you had asked if I had a boyfriend, and when I said I did, you barely talked to me anymore."
"I didnt want to get betweewo of you."
"You did, though, in the end, despite your professed innoce," she said, smiling. "And Im glad you did."
"When did you finally tell him about us?"
"After I got home."
"Was it hard?"
"Not at all. I was in love with you."
She squeezed his hand, let go, and moved closer. She put her hand through his arm, cradling it, aed her head on his shoulder. He could smell her, soft like the rain, warm.
She spoke quietly: "Do you remember walking home after the festival? I asked you if you wao see me again. You just nodded your head and didnt say a word. It wasnt too ving."
"Id never met anyone like you before. I couldnt help it. I didnt know what to say."
"I know. You could never hide anything. Your eyes always gave you away. You had the most wonderful eyes Id ever seen." She paused then, lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked directly at him. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more that summer than I ever loved anyone."
Lightning flashed again. In the quiet moments before the thuheir eyes met as they tried to undo the fourteen years, both of them sensing a ge since yesterday.
Whehunder finally sounded, Noah sighed and turned from her, toward the windows. "I wish you could have read the letters I wrote you," he said.
She didnt speak for a long while.
"It wasnt just up to you, Noah. I didnt tell you, but I wrote you a dozeers after I got home. I just never sent them."
"Why?" Noah was surprised.
"I guess I was too afraid."
"Of what?"
"That maybe it wasnt as real as I thought it was. That maybe you fot me."
"I would never do that. I couldnt even think it."
"I know that now. I see it when I look at you. But back then, it was different. There was so much I didnt uand, things that a young girls mind couldnt sort out."
"What do you mean?"
She paused, colleg her thoughts. "When your letters never came, I didnt know what to think. I remember talking to my best friend about what happehat summer, and she said that you got what you wanted, and that she wasnt surprised that you wouldnt write. I didnt believe that you were that way, I never did, but hearing it and thinking about all our differences made me wonder if maybe the summer meant more to me than it had meant to you ... And then, while all this was going through my head, I heard from Sarah. She said that you had left New Bern."
"Fin and Sarah always knew where I was - "
She held up her hand to stop him. "I know, but I never asked. I assumed that you had left New Bern to start a new life, ohout me. Why else wouldnt you write? Or call? Or e see me?"
Noah looked away without answering, and she tinued:
"I didnt know, and in time, the hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let it go. At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the few years, I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got to, Id write you another letter. But I never sent them for fear of what I might find. By then, youd gone on with your life and I didnt want to think about you loving someone else. I wao remember us like we were that summer. I didnt want to ever lose that."
She said it so sweetly, so ily, that Noah wao kiss her when she finished.
But he didnt. Instead he fought the urge and pushed it back, knowing it wasnt what she needed. Yet she felt so wonderful to him, toug him.
"The last letter I wrote was a couple of years ago. After I met Lon, I wrote to your daddy to find out where you were. But it had been so long since Id seen you, I wasnt even sure hed still b９9ｌiｂ?here. And with the war..."
She trailed off, and they were quiet for a moment, both of them lost in thought.
Lightning lit the sky again before Noah finally broke the silence.
"I wish you would have mailed it anyway."
"Why?"
"Just to hear from you. To hear what youve been up to."
"You might have been disappointed. My life isnt too exg. Besides, Im ly what you remembered."
"Youre better than I remembered, Allie."
"Youre sweet, Noah."
He almost stopped there, knowing that if he kept the words inside him, he could somehow keep trol, the same trol he had kept the past fourteen years. But something else had overtaken him now, and he gave in to it, hoping somehow, in some way, it would take them back to what theyd had so long ago.
"Im not saying it because Im sweet. Im saying it because I love you now and I always have. More than you imagine."
A log snapped, sending sparks up the ey, and both of them noticed the sm remains, almost burhrough. The fire needed an, but her of them moved.
Allie took another sip of bourbon and began to feel its effects. But it wasnt just the alcohol that made her hold Noah a little tighter and feel his warmth against her. Glang out the window, she saw the clouds were almost black.
"Let me get the fire going again," Noah said, needing to think, and she released him. He went to the fireplace, opehe s, and added a couple of logs. He used the poker to adjust the burning wood, making sure the new wood could catch easily.
The flame began to spread again, and Noah returo her side. She snuggled up against him agaiing her head on his shoulder as she had before, not speaking, rubbing her hand lightly against his chest. Noah leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
"This reminds me of how we once were. When we were young."
She smiled, thinking the same thing, and they watched the fire and smoke, holding each other.
"Noah, youve never asked, but I want you to know something."
"What is it?"
Her voice was tender. "Theres never been another, Noah. You werent just the first. Youre the only man Ive ever been with. I dont expect you to say the same thing, but I wanted you to know."
Noah was silent as he turned away. She felt warmer as she watched the fire. Her hand rahe muscles beh his shirt, hard and firm as they leaned against each other. She remembered when theyd held each other like this for what theyd thought would be the last time. They were sitting on a sea wall desigo hold back the waters of the Neuse River. She was g because they might never see each ain, and she wondered how she could ever be happy again. Instead of answering, he pressed a o her hand, which she read on the way home. She had saved it, occasionally reading all of it or sometimes just a part. One part shed read at least a huimes, and for some reason it ran through her head now. It said:
The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are ected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe weve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them weve found each other. And maybe each time, weve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this good-bye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will e.
When I look at you, I see your beauty and grad know they have grown stronger with every life you have lived. And I know I have spent every life before this one searg for you. Not someone like you, but you, for your soul and mine must always e together. And then, for a reasoher of us uands, weve been forced to say good-bye.
I would love to tell you that everything will work out for us, and I promise to do all I to make sure it does. But if we never meet again and this is truly good-bye, I knoill see each ain in another life. We will find each ain, and maybe the stars will have ged, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times weve had before.
Could it be? She wondered. Could he be right? She had never pletely disted it, wanting to hold on to its promise in case it was true. The idea had helped her through many hard times. But sitting here now seemed to test the theory that they were destio always be apart. Uhe stars had ged sihey were last together.
And maybe they had, but she didnt want to look. Instead she leaned into him ahe heat between them, felt his body, felt his arm tight around her. And her body began to tremble with the same anticipation she had felt the first time they were together.
It felt sht to be here. Everythi right. The fire, the drinks, the storm - it couldnt have been more perfect. Like magic, it seemed, their years apart didnt matter anymore.
Lightning cut the sky outside. Fire danced on white-hot wood, spreading the heat. October raied itself against the windows, drowning out all other sounds.
They gave io everything they had fought the last fourteen years. Allie lifted her head off his shoulder, looked at him with hazy eyes, and Noah kissed her softly on the lips.>? She brought her hand to his fad touched his cheek, brushing it softly with her fingers. He leaned in slowly and kissed her again, still soft and tender, and she kissed back, feeling the years of separation dissolve into passion. She closed her eyes and parted her lips as he ran his fingers up and down her arms, slowly, lightly. He kissed her neck, her cheek, her eyelids, and she felt the moisture of his mouth linger wherever his lips had touched. She took his hand a to her breasts, and a whimper rose ihroat as he gently touched them through the thin fabric of the shirt.
The world seemed dreamlike as she pulled back from him, the firelight setting her face aglow. Without speaking, she started to undo the buttons on his shirt. He watched her as she did it and listeo her soft breaths as she made her way downward.
With each button he could feel her fingers brushing against his skin, and she smiled softly at him when she finally finished. He felt her slide her hands ioug him as lightly as possible, letting her hands explore his body. He was hot and she ran her hand over his slightly wet chest, feeling his hair between her fingers. Leaning in, she kissed his neck gently as she pulled the shirt over his shoulders, log his arms behind his back. She lifted her head and allowed him to kiss her as he rolled his shoulders, freeing himself from the sleeves.
With that, he slowly reached for her. He lifted her shirt and ran his finger slowly across her belly before raising her arms and slipping it off. She felt short of breath as he lowered his head and kissed between her breasts and slowly ran his tongue up to her neck. His hands gently caressed her back, her arms, her shoulders, and she felt their heated bodies press together, skin to skin. He kissed her ned nibbled gently as she lifted her hips and allowed him to pull off her bottoms. She reached for the snap 搭扣on his jeans, undid it, and watched as he slipped them off as well. It was almost slow motion as their naked bodies finally came together, both of them trembling with the memory of what they had once shared together.
He ran his tongue along her neck while his hands moved over the smooth hot skin of her breasts, down her belly, past her navel, and up again. He was struck by her beauty. Her shimmering hair trapped the light and made it sparkle. Her skin was soft aiful, almost glowing in the firelight. He felt her hands on his back, being him.
They lay back, close to the fire, and the heat made the air seem thick. Her back was slightly arched as he rolled atop her in one fluid motion. He was on all fours above her, his knees astride her hips. She lifted her head and kissed his and neck, breathing hard, lig his shoulders, and tasting the sweat that lingered on his body. She ran her hands through his hair as he held himself above her, his arm muscles hard from the exertion. With a little tempting frown, she pulled him closer, but he resisted. Instead he lowered himself and lightly rubbed his chest against her, and she felt her body respond with anticipation. He did this slowly, over and over, kissing every part of her body, listening as she made soft, whimpering sounds while he moved above her.
He did this until she couldnt take it anymore, and when they finally joined as one, she cried aloud and pressed her fingers hard into his back. She buried her fa his ned felt him deep inside her, felt his strength aleness, felt his muscle and his soul. She moved rhythmically against him, allowing him to take her wherever he wao the place she was meant to be.
She opened her eyes and watched him in the firelight, marveling at his beauty as he moved above her. She saw his body glisten with crystal sweat and watched as beads rolled down his chest and fell onto her like the rain outside. And with every drop, with every breath, she felt herself, every responsibility, every facet of her life, slipping away.
Their bodies reflected everything given, everything taken, and she was rewarded with a sensation she never ked. It went on and on, tingling throughout her body and warming her before finally subsiding, and she struggled to catch her breath while she trembled beh him. But the moment it was over, another oarted to build again, and she started to feel them in long sequences, ht after the . By the time the rain had stopped and the sun had set, her body was exhausted but unwilling to stop the pleasure between them.
They spent the day in each others arms, alternately making love by the fire and then holding each other as they watched the flames curl around the wood. Sometimes he recited one of his favorite poems as she lay beside him, and she would listen with her eyes closed and almost feel the words. Then, when they were ready, they would join again and he murmured words of love between kisses as they ed their arms around one another.
They went on throughout the evening, making up for their years apart, and slept in each others arms that night. Occasionally he would wake up and look at her, her body spent and radiant, and feel as if everything were suddenly right in this world.
Once, when he was looking at her in the moments before daybreak, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled and reached up to touch his face. He put his fio her lips, gently, to keep her from speaking, and for a long time they just looked at one another.
When the lump in his throat subsided, he whispered to her, "You are the ao every prayer Ive offered. You are a song, a dream, a whisper, and I dont know how I could have lived without you for as long as I have. I love you, Allie, more than you ever imagine. I always have, and I always will."
"Oh, Noah," she said, pulling him to her. She wanted him, needed him now more than ever, like nothing shed ever known.
Courtrooms
Lat?99lｉb?hat m, three men - two lawyers and the judge - sat in chambers while Lon finished speaking. It was a moment before the judge answered.
"Its an unusual request," he said, p the situation. "It seems to me the trial could very well end today. Are you saying this urgent matter t wait until later this evening or tomorrow?
"No, Your Honor, it t," Lon answered al?99lｉb.most too quickly. Stay relaxed, he told himself. Take a deep breath.
"And it has nothing to do with this case?"
"No, Your Honor. Its of a personal nature. I know its out of the ordinary, but I really o take care of it." Good, better.
The judge leaned ba his chair, evaluating him for a moment. "Mr. Bates, how do you feel about this?"
He cleared his throat. "Mr. Hammond called me this m and Ive already spoken to my ts. Theyre willing to postpoil Monday.&quo藏书网 t;
"I see," the judge said. "And do you believe it is in your clie藏书网 nts best is to do this?"
"I believe so," he said. "Mr. Hammond has agreed to reopen discussion on a certain matter not covered by this proceeding."
The judge looked hard at both of them and thought about it. "I dont like it," he finally said, "not at all. But Mr. Hammond has never made a similar request befor藏书网 ake this decision for you, Allie, this ones all yours. I want you to know, though, that I love you. And I always will. I know that doesnt help, but its all I do."
She reached in her pocketbook and removed a bundle of letters held together with string, the envelopes old and .. slightly yellowed.
"These are the letters that Noah wrote you. I hrew them away, and they havent been opened. I know I shouldnt have kept them from you, and Im sorry for that. But I was just trying to protect you. I didnt realize..."
Allie took them and ran her hand over them, shocked.
"I should go, Allie. Youve got some decisions to make, and you dont have much time. Do you wao stay in town?"
Allie shook her head. "No, this is up to me."
Anne nodded and watched her daughter for a moment, w. Finally she stood, went around the table, leaned over, and kissed her daughter on the cheek. She could see the question in her daughters eyes as Allie stood from the table and embraced her.
"What are you going to do?" her mother asked, pulling back. There was a long pause.
"I dont know," Allie finally answered. They stood together for another minute, just holding each other. "Thanks for ing," Allie said. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
On her way out the door, Allie thought that she heard her mother whisper, "Follow your heart," but she couldnt be sure.
Crossroads
Nah opehe door for Anne Nelson as she went out.
"Good-bye, Noah," she said quietly.
He nodded without speaking. There wasnt anything else to say; they both khat. She turned from him a, closing the door behind her. Noah watched her walk to her car, get in, and drive away without looking back. She was a strong womahought to himself, and he knew where Allie got it from.
Noah peeked in the living room, saw Allie sitting with her head down, theo the back porch, knowing that she o be alone. He sat quietly in his rocker and watched the water drifting by as the minutes passed.
After what seemed like ay he heard the back door open. He didnt turn to look at her just then - for some reason he couldnt - and he listened as she sat in the chair beside him.
"Im sorry," Allie said. "I had no idea this would happen."
Noah shook his head. "Dont be sorry. We both k was ing in some form or another."
"Its still hard."
"I know." He finally turo her, reag for her hand. "Is there anything I do to make it easier?"
She shook her head. "No. Not really. I have to do this alone. Besides, Im not sure what Im going to say to him yet."
She looked down and her voice became softer and a little more distant, as if she were talking to herself. "I guess it depends on him and how much he knows. If my mother was right, he may have suspis, but he doesnt know anything for sure."
Noah felt a tightness in his stomach. When he finally spoke his .. and that?"
He shook his head and tried to keep his voice steady. "Not really. Not if it means losing you. I t do that again."
She didnt say anything but lowered her head. Noah went on: "Could you really leave me without looking back?"
She bit her lip as she answered. Her voice was beginning to crack. "I dont know. Probably not."
"Would that be fair to Lon?"
She didnt answer right away. Instead she stood, wiped her face, and walked to the edge of the porch where she leaned against the post. She crossed her arms and watched the water before answering quietly. "No."
"It doesnt have to be like this, Allie," he said. "Were adults now, we have the choice we didnt have before. Were meant to be together. We always have been."
He walked to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. "I dont want to live the res?９9lｉb. nd "
He shook his head to stop her. "I know what youre trying to say - I see it in your eyes. But I dont want to uand it, Allie. I dont want it to end this way. I dont want it to end at all. But if you leave, we both know well never see each ain."
She leaned into him and began to cry harder as Noah fought back his own tears.
He ed his arms around her.
"Allie, I t force you to stay with me. But no matter what happens in my life, Ill never fet these last couple of days with you. Ive been dreaming about this for years."
He kissed her gently, and they embraced as they had when she first got out of her car two days ago. Finally Allie let him go and wiped her tears.
"I have to get my things, Noah."
He didnt go ih her. Instead he sat down in the rocker, spent. He watched99lｉb?t>e painful, most heartwarming. By three oclock I was tired, but I had reached the bottom of the stack. There was oer remaining, the last one I wrote her, and by then I knew I had to keep going.
I lifted the seal and removed both pages. I put the sed page aside and moved the first page into better light and began to read:
My dearest Allie, The porch is silent except for the sounds that float from the shadows, and for once I am at a loss for words. It is a strange experiene, for when I think of you and the life we have shared, there is muember. A lifetime of memories. But to put it into words? I do not know if I am able. I am not a poet, a a poem is o fully express the way I feel about you.
So my mind drifts, and I remember thinking about our life together as I made coffee this m. Kate was there, and so was Jane, and they both became quiet when I walked i. I saw theyd been g, and without a word, I sat myself beside them at the table aheir hands. And do you know what I saw when I looked at them? I saw you from so long ago, the day we said good-bye. They resemble you and how you were theiful aive and wounded with the hurt that es when something special is taken away. And for a reason Im not sure I uand, I was inspired to tell them a story.
I called Jeff and David into the kit, for they were here as well, and when the children were ready, I told them about us and how you came bae so long ago.
I told them about our walk, and the crab dinner i, and they listened with smiles when they heard about the oe ride, and sitting in front of the fire with the sting outside. I told them about your mother warning us about Lon the day - they seemed as surprised as we were - and yes, I even told them what happened later that day, after you went back to town.
That part of the story has never left me, even after all this time. Even though I wasnt there, you described it to me only once, and I remember marveling at the strength you showed that day. I still agine what was going through your mind when you walked into the lobby and saw Lon, or how it must have felt to talk to him. You told me that the two of you left the inn and sat on a bench by the old Methodist church, and that he held your hand, even as you explaihat you must stay.
I know you cared for him. And his rea proves to me he cared for you as well.
No, he could not uand losing you, but how could he? Even as you explaihat you had always loved me, and that it wouldnt be fair to him, he did not release your hand. I know he was hurt and angry, and tried for almost an hour to ge your mind, but when you stood firm and said, "I t go back with you, Im so sorry," he khat your decision had been made. You said he simply nodded and the two of you sat together for a long time without speaking. I have always wondered what he was thinking as he sat with you, but Im sure it was the same way I felt only a few hours before. And when he finally walked you to your car, you said he told you that I was a lucky man. He behaved as a gentleman would, and I uood then why your choice was so hard.
I remember that when I fihe story, the room was quiet until Kate finally stood to embrace me. "Oh, Daddy," she said with tears in her eyes, and though I expected to aheir questions, they did not ask any. Instead, they gave me something much more special.
For the four hours, each of them told me how much we, the two of us, had meant to them growing up. One by ohey told stories about things I had long since fotten.
And by the end, I was g because I realized how well we had doh raising them. I was so proud of them, and proud of you, and happy about the life we have led. And nothing will ever take that away. Nothing. I only wish you would have beeo enjoy it with me.
After they left, I rocked in silehinking ba our life together. You are always here with me when I do so, at least in my heart, and it is impossible for me to remember a time when you were not a part of me. I do not know who I would have bee had you never e bae that day, but I have no doubt that I would have lived and died with regrets that thankfully Ill never know.
I love you, Allie. I am who I am because of you. You are every reason, every hope, and every dream Ive ever had, and no matter what happens to us iure, every day we are together is the greatest day of my life. I will always be yours.
And, my darling, you will always be mine.
Noah
I put the pages aside and remember sitting with Allie on our porch when she read this letter for the first time. It was late afternoon, with red streaks cutting the summer sky, and the last remnants of the day were fading. The sky was slowly ging color, and as I was watg the sun go down, I remember thinking about that brief, flickering moment when day suddenly turns into night.
Dusk, I realized then, is just an illusion, because the sun is either above the horizon or below it. And９9ｌｉb?t> that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are; there ot be ohout the other, yet they ot exist at the same time.
How would it feel, I remember w, to be always together, yet forever apart?
Looking back, I find it ironic that she chose to read the letter at the exaent that question popped into my head. It is ironic, of course, because I know the answer now. I know what its like to be day and night now; always together, forever apart.
There is beauty where we sit this afternoon, Allie and I. This is the pinnay life. They are here at the creek: the birds, the geese, my friends. Their bodies float on the cool water, which reflects bits and pieces of their colors and make them seem larger than they really are. Allie too is taken in by their wonder, and little by little we get to know each ain.
"Its good to talk to you. I find that I miss it, eve hashat long."
I am sincere and she knows this, but she is still wary. I am a stranger.
"Is this something we do often?" ?9９ｌib. she asks. "Do we sit here and watch the birds a lot? I mean, do we know each other well?"
"Yes and no. I think everyone has secrets, but we have been acquainted for years."
She looks to her hands, then mine. She thinks about this for a moment, her face at su ahat she looks young again. We do not wear s. Again, there is a reason for this. She asks: "Were you ever married?"
I nod "Yes."
"What was she like?"
I tell the truth.
"She was my dream. She made me who I am, and holding her in my arms was more natural to me than my owbeat. I think about her all the time. Even now, when Im sitting here, I think about her. There could never have been another.
She takes this in. I dont know how she feels about this. Finally she speaks softly, her voigelic, sensual. I wonder if she knows I think these things.
"Is she dead?"
What is death? I wonder, but I do not say this. Instead I answer, "My wife is alive in my heart. And she always will be."
"You still love her, dont you?"
"Of course. But I love many things. I love to sit here with you. I love to share the beauty of this place with someone I care about. I love to watch the osprey swoop toward the creek and find its dinner."
She is quiet for a moment. She looks away so I t see her face. It has been her habit for years.
"Why are you doing this?"
No fear, just curiosity. This is good. I know what she means, but I ask anyway. "What?"
"Why are you spending the day with me?"
I smile. "Im here because this is where Im supposed to be. Its not plicated. Both you and I are enjoying ourselves. Dont dismiss my time with you - its not wasted. Its what I want. I sit here aalk and I think to myself, what could be better than what I am doing now?"
She looks me in the eyes, and for a moment, just a moment, her eyes twinkle. A slight smile forms on her lips.
"I like being with you, but if gettirigued is what youre after, youve succeeded. I admit I enjoy your pany, but I know nothing about you. I dont expect you to tell me your life story, but why are you so mysterious?"
"I read ohat women love mysterious strangers."
"See, you havent really answered the question. You havent answered most of my questions. You didnt even tell me how the story ehis m."
I shrug. We sit quietly for a while. Finally I ask: "Is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"That women love mysterious strangers?”
She thinks about this and laughs. Then she answers as I would: "I think some women do."
"Do you?"
"Now dont go putting me on the spot. I dont know you well enough for that."
She is teasing me, and I enjoy it. We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken us a lifetime to learn.
It seems only the old are able to sit o one another and not say anything and still feel tent. The young, brash and impatient, must always break the silence.
It is a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are fortable with each other sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.
Time passes, and gradually our breathing begins to cide just as it did this m.
Deep breaths, relaxed breaths, and there is a moment when she dozes off, like those fortable with one another often do. I wonder if the young are capable of enjoying this. Finally, when she wakes, a miracle.
"Do you see that bird?" She points to it, and I strain my eyes. It is a wonder I see it, but I because the sun is bright. I point, too.
"Caspian stern," I say softly, and we devote our attention to it and stare as it glides over Brices Creek. And, like an old habit rediscovered, when I lower my arm, I put my hand on her knee and she doesnt make me move it.
She is right about my evasiveness. On days like these, when only her memory is gone, I am vague in my answers because Ive hurt my wife uionally with careless slips of my tongue many times these past few years, and I am determined not to let it happen again. So I limit myself and answer only what is asked, sometimes not too well, and I volunteer nothing.
This is a split decision, both good and bad, but necessary, for with knowledge es pain. To limit the pain I limit my answers. There are days she never learns of her children or that we are married. I am sorry for this, but I will not ge.
Does this make me disho? Perhaps, but I have seen her crushed by the waterfall of information that is her life. Could I look myself in the mirror without red eyes and quivering jaw and know I have fotten all that was important to me? I could not aher she, for when this odyssey began, this is how I began. Her life, her marriage, her children. Her friends and her work. Questions and answers in the game show format of This Is Your Life.
The days were hard on both of us. I was an encyclopedia, an object without feeling, of the whos, whats and wheres in her life, when iy it is the whys, the things I did not know and could not ahat make it all worthwhile. She would stare at pictures of fotten offspring, hold paintbrushes that inspired nothing, and read love letters that brought bao joy. She would weakehe hrowing paler, being bitter, and ending the day worse tha began. Our days were lost, and so was she. And selfishly, so was I.
So I ged. I became Magellan or bus, an explorer in the mysteries of the mind, and I learned, bumbling and slow, but learning heless what had to be done. And I learned what is obvious to a child. That life is simply a colle of little lives, each lived one day at a time. That each day should be spent findiy in flowers and poetry and talking to animals. That a day spent with dreaming and sus and refreshing breezes ot be bettered. But most of all, I learhat life is about sitting on benches o a creeks with my hand on her knee and sometimes, on good days, for falling in love.
"What are you thinking?" she asks.
It is now dusk. We have left our bend are shuffling along lighted paths that wind their way around this plex. She is holding my arm, and I am her escort. It is her idea to do this. Perhaps she is charmed by me. Perhaps she wants to keep me from falliher way, I am smiling to myself.
"Im thinking about you."
She makes no respoo this except to squeeze my arm, and I tell she likes what I said. Our life together has enabled me to see the clues, even if she does not know them herself.
I go on: "I know you t remember who you are, but I , and I find that when I look at you, it makes me feel good."
She taps my arm and smiles. "Youre a kind man with a lovi. I hope I enjoyed you as much before as I do now."
We walk some more. Finally she says, "I have to tell you something."
"Go ahead."
"I think I have an admirer."
"An admirer?"
"I see."
"You dont believe me?"
"I believe you."
"You should."
"Why?"
"Because I think it is you."
I think about this as we walk in silence, holding each other, past the rooms, past the courtyard. We e to the garden, mainly wildflowers, and I stop her. I pick a bundle, red, pink, yellow, violet. I give them to her, and she brings them to her nose. She smells them with eyes closed and she whispers, "Theyre beautiful."
We resume our walk, me in one hand, the flowers in another. People watch us, for we are a walking miracle, or so I am told. It is true in a way, though most times I do not feel lucky.
"You think its me?" I finally ask.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I have found what you have hidden."
"What?"
"This," she says, handing a small slip of paper to me. "I found it under my pillow."
I read it, and it says:
The body slows with mortal ache,
Yet my promise remains true at the closing of our days,
A teouch that ends with a kiss
Will awaken love in joyous ways.
"Are there more?" I ask.
"I found this in the pocket of my coat."
Our souls were one,
If you must know and never shall they be apart;
With splendid dawn, your face aglow
I reach for you and find my heart.
"I see," and that is all I say.
We walk as the sun sinks lower in the sky. In time, silver twilight is the only remainder of the day, and still we talk of the poetry. She is enthralled by the romance.
By the time we reach the doorway, I am tired. She knows this, so she stops me with her hand and makes me face her. I do and I realize how hunched over I have bee.
She and I are now level. Sometimes I am glad she doesnt know how much I have ged.
She turns to me and stares for a long time.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I dont want tet you or this day, and Im trying to keep your memory alive."
Will it work this time? I wohen know it will not. It t. I do not tell her my thoughts, though. I smile instead because her words are sweet.
"Thank you," I say.
"I mean it. I dont want tet you again. Youre very special to me. I dont know what I would have dohout you today."
My throat closes a little. There is emotion behind her words, the emotions I feel whenever I think of her. I know this is why I live, and I love her dearly at this moment. How I wish I were strong enough to carry her in my arms to paradise.
"Dont try to say anything," she tells me. "Lets just feel the moment."
And I do, and I feel heaven.
Her disease is worse now than it was in the beginning, though Allie is different from most. There are three others with the disease here, and these three are the sum of my practical experieh it. They, unlike Allie, are in the most advaages of Alzheimers and are almost pletely lost. They wake up halluating and fused. They repeat themselves over and over. Two of the three t feed themselves and will die soon. The third has a tendency to wander a lost. She was found on a strangers car a quarter mile away. Sihen she has been strapped to the bed. All be very bitter at times, and at other times they be like lost children, sad and alone. Seldom do they reize the staff or people who love them. It is a trying disease, and this is why it is hard for their children and mio visit.
Allie, of course, has her own problems, too, problems that will probably grow worse over time. She is terribly afraid in the ms and cries insolably. She sees tiny people, like gnomes, I think, watg her, and she screams at them to get away.
She bathes willingly but will regularly. She is thin now, much too thin, in my opinion, and on good days I do my best to fatten her up.
But this is where the similarity ends. This is why Allie is sidered a miracle, because sometimes, just sometimes, after I read to her, her dition isnt so bad.
There is no explanation for this. "Its impossible," the doctors say. "She must not have Alzheimers." But she does. On most days and every m there be no doubt. On this there is agreement.
But why, then, is her dition different? Why does she sometimes ge after I read? I tell the doctors the reason - I know it in my heart, but I am not believed.
Ihey look to sce. Four times specialists have traveled from Chapel Hill to find the answer. Four times they have left without uanding.
I tell them, "You t possibly uand it if you use only your training and your books," but they shake their heads and answer: "Alzheimers does not work like this. With her dition, its just not possible to have a versation or improve as the day goes on. Ever."
But she does. Not every day, not most of the time, and definitely less than she used to. But sometimes. And all that is gone on these days is her memory, as if she has amnesia. But her emotions are normal, her thoughts are normal. And these are the days that I know I am doing right.
Dinner is waiting in her room wheurn. It has been arranged for us to eat here, as it always is on days like these, and once again I could ask for no more.
The people here take care of everything. They are good to me, and I am thankful.
The lights are dimmed, the room is lit by two dles oable where we will sit, and music is playing softly in the background. The cups and plates are plastid the carafe (glass bottle) is filled with apple juice, but rules are rules and she doeso care. She inhales slightly at the sight. Her eyes are wide.
"Did you do this?"
I nod and she walks in the room.
"It looks beautiful."
I offer my arm in escort and lead her to the window. She doesnt release it whe there.
Her touch is nice, aand close together on this crystal springtime evening. The window is open slightly, and I feel a breeze as it fans my cheek. The moon has risen, ach for a long time as the evening sky unfolds.
"Ive never seen anything so beautiful, Im sure of it," she says, and I agree with her.
"I haveher," I say, but I am looking at her. She knows what I mean, and I see her smile. A moment later she whispers:
"I think I know who Allie went with at the end of the story," she says.
"You do?"
"Who?"
"She went with Noah."
"Youre sure?"
"Absolutely."
I smile and nod. "Yes, she did," I say softly, and she smiles back. Her face is radiant.
I pull out her chair with some effort. She sits and I sit opposite her. She offers her hand across the table, and I take it in mine, and I feel her thumb begin to move as it did so many years ago. Without speaking, I stare at her for a long time, living and reliving the moments of my life, remembering it all and making it real. I feel my throat begin to tighten, and once again I realize how much I love her. My voice is shaky when I finally speak.
"Youre so beautiful," I say. I see in her eyes that she knows how I feet about her and what I really mean by my words.
She does not respond. Instead she lowers her eyes and I wonder what shes thinking.
She gives me no clues, and I gently squeeze her hand. I wait. With all my dreams, I know her heart, and I know Im almost there.
And then, a miracle that proves me right.
As Glenn Miller plays softly in a dlelit room, I watch as she gradually gives in to the feelings inside her. I see a warm smile begin to form on her lips, the kind that makes it all worthwhile, and I watch as she raises her hazy eyes to mine.
She pulls my hand toward her.
"Youre wonderful...," she says softly, trailing off, and at that moment she falls in love with me, too; this I know, for I have seen the signs a thousand times.
She says nothing else right away, she doesnt have to, and she gives me a look from another lifetime that makes me whole again. I smile back, with as much passion as I muster, aare at each other with the feelings inside us rolling like o waves. I look around the room, then up to the ceiling, then back at Allie, and the way shes looking at me makes me warm. And suddenly I feel young again. Im no longer cold or ag, or hunched over or deformed, or almost blind with cataractal eyes.
Im strong and proud, and the luckiest man alive, and I keep on feeling that way for a long time across the table.
By the time the dles have burned down a third, I am ready to break the silence.
I say, "I love you deeply, and I hope you know that."
"Of course I do," she says breathlessly. "Ive always loved you, Noah."
Noah, I hear again. Noah. The word echoes in my head. Noah... Noah. She knows, I think to myself, she knows who I am ...
She knows ...
Such a tiny thing, this knowledge, but for me it is a gift from God, and I feel our lifetime together, holding her, loving her, and being with her through the best years of my life.
She murmurs, "Noah... my sweet Noah..." And I, who could not accept the doctors words, have triumphed again, at least for a moment. I give up the pretense of mystery, and I kiss her hand and bring it to my cheek and whisper in her ear. I say:
"You are the greatest thing that has ever happeo me."
"Oh . . . Noah," she says with tears in her eyes, "I love you, too."
If only it would end like this, I would be a happy man.
But it wont. Of this Im sure, for as time slips by, I begin to see the signs of in her face.
"Whats wrong?" I ask, and her answer es softly.
"Im so afraid. Im afraid of fetting you again. It isnt fair... I just t bear to give this up."
Her voice breaks as she finishes, but I dont know what to say. I know the evening is ing to an end, and there is nothing I do to stop the iable. In this I am a failure. I finally tell her:
"Ill never leave you. What we have is forever."
She knows this is all I do, for her of us way promises. But I tell by the way she is looking at me that once again she wishes there were more.
The crickets serenade us, and we begin to pick at our dinner. her one of us is hungry, but I lead by example and she follows me. She takes small bites and chews a long time, but I am glad to see her eat. She has lost too much weight in the past three months.
After dinner, I bee afraid despite myself. I know I should be joyous, for this reunion is the proof that love still be ours, but I know the bell has tolled this evening. The sun has long si and the thief is about to e, and there is nothing I do to stop it. So I stare at her and wait and live a lifetime in these last remaining moments.
Nothing.
The clock ticks. Nothing.
I take her in my arms and we hold each other. Nothing.
I feel her tremble and I whisper in her ear. Nothing.
I tell her for the last time this evening that I love her.
And the thief es.
It always amazes me how quickly it happens. Even now, after all this time. For as she holds me, she begins to blink rapidly and shake her head. Then, turning toward the er of the room, she stares for a long time, etched on her face.
No! My mind screams. Not yet! Not now... not when were so close! Not tonight! Any night but tonight... Please!
The words are inside me.
I t take it again! It isnt fair.., it isnt fair... But once again, it is to no avail.
"Those people," she finally says, pointing, "are staring at me. Please make them stop." The gnomes.
A pit rises in my stomach, hard and full. My breathing stops for a moment, then starts again, this time shallower. My mouth goes dry, and I feel my heart pounding. It is over, I know, and I am right. The sundowning has e. This, the evening fusion associated with Alzheimers disease that affects my wife, is the hardest part of all. For when it es, she is gone, and sometimes I wonder whether she and I will ever love again.
"Theres no ohere, Allie," I say, trying to fend off the iable. She doesnt believe me. "Theyre staring at me."
"No," I whisper while shaking my head.
"You t see them?"
"No," I say, and she thinks for a moment.
"Well, theyre right there," she says, pushing me away, "and theyre staring at me."
With that, she begins to talk to herself, and moments later, when I try to fort her, she flinches with wide eyes.
"Who are you?" she cries with pani her voice, her face being whiter. "What are you doing here?"
There is fear growing inside her, and I hurt, for there is nothing I do. She moves farther from me, bag away, her hands in a defensive position, and then she says the most heartbreaking words of all.
"Go away! Stay away from me!" she screams. She is pushing the gnomes away from her, terrified, now oblivious of my presence.
I stand and cross the room to her bed. I am weak now, my legs ache, and there is a strange pain in my side. I dont know where it es from. It is a struggle to press the button to call the nurses, for my fingers are throbbing and seem frozen together, but I finally succeed. They will be here soon now, I know, and I wait for them. While I wait, I stare at my wife.
Twenty... Thirty seds pass, and I tio stare, my eyes missing nothing, remembering the moments we just shared together. But in all that time she does not look back, and I am haunted by the visions of her struggling with unseen enemies.
I sit by the bedside with an ag bad start to cry as I pick up the notebook.
Allie does not notice. I uand, for her mind is gone.
A couple of pages fall to the floor, and I bend over to pick them up. I am tired now, so I sit, alone and apart from my wife.
And when the nurses e in they see two people they must fort. A woman shaking in fear from demons in her mind, and the old man who loves her more deeply than life itself, g softly in the er, his fa his hands.
I spend the rest of the evening alone in my room. My door is partially open and I see people walk by, some strangers, some friends, and if I trate, I hear them talking about families, jobs, and visits to parks. Ordinary versations, nothing more, but I find that I envy them and the ease of their unication. Another deadly sin, I know, but sometimes I t help it.
Dr. Barnwell is here, too, speaking with one of the nurses, and I wonder who is ill enough to warrant such a visit at this hour. He works too much, I tell him. Spend the time with your family, I say, they wont be around forever. But he doesnt listen to me.
He cares for his patients, he says, and must e here when called. He says he has no choice, but this makes him a man torn by tradi. He wants to be a doctor pletely devoted to his patients and a man pletely devoted to his family. He ot be both, for there arent enough hours, but he has yet to learn this. I wonder, as his voice fades into the background, which he will choose or whether, sadly, the choice will be made for him.
I sit by the window in an easy chair and I think about today. It was happy and sad, wonderful a-wreng. My flig emotions keep me silent for many hours.
I did not read to ahis evening; I could not, for poetitrospe would brio tears. In time, the hallways bee quiet except for the footfalls of evening soldiers. At eleven oclock I hear the familiar sounds that for some reason I expected. The footsteps I know so well.
Dr. Barnwell peeks in.
"I noticed yht was on. Do you mind if I e in?"
"No," I say, shaking my head.
He es in and looks around the room before taking a seat a few feet from me.
"I hear," he says, "you had a good day with Allie." He smiles. He is intrigued by us and the relationship we have. I do not know if his i is entirely professional.
"I suppose so."
He cocks his head at my answer and looks at me. "You okay, Noah? You look a little down."
"Im fine. Just a little tired."
"How was Allie today?"
"She was okay. We talked for almost four hours."
"Four hours? Noah, thats… incredible."
I only nod. He goes on, shaking his head. "Ive never seen anything like it, or even heard about it. I guess thats what love is all about. You two were meant for each other. She must love you very much. You know that, dont you?"
"I know," I say, but I t say anything more.
"Whats really b you, Noah? Did Allie say or do something that hurt your feelings?
"No. She was wonderful, actually. Its just that right now I feel.., alone."
"Alone? Nobodys alone."
"Im alone," I say as I look at my watd think of his family sleeping in a quiet house, the place he should be, "and so are you."
The feassed without significe. Allie was unize me at any time, and I admit my attention waned now and then, for most of my thoughts were of the day we had just spent. Though the end always es too soon, there was nothing lost that day, only gained, and I was happy to have received this blessing once again.
By the following week, my life had pretty much returo normal. Or at least as normal as my life be. Reading to Allie, reading to others, wandering the halls.
Lying awake at night and sitting by my .. rawer, ed in tissue. I ot wear it anymore because my knuckles are swollen and my fingers lack for blood. I un the tissue and find it unged. It is powerful, a symbol, a circle, and I know, I know, there could never have been another. I k then, and I know it now. And in that moment I whisper aloud, "I am still yours, Allie, my queen, my timeless beauty. You are, and always have been, the best thing in my life."
I wonder if she hears me when I say this, and I wait for a sign. But there is nothing.
It is eleven-thirty and I look for the letter she wrote me, the one I read when the mood strikes me. I find it where I last left it. I turn it over a couple of times before I open it, and when I do my hands begin to tremble. Finally I read:
Dear Noah, I write this letter by dlelight as you lie sleeping in the bedroom we have shared sihe day we were married. And though I t hear the soft sounds of your slumber, I know you are there, and soon I will be lyio you again as I always have.
And I will feel your warmth and your fort, and your breaths will slowly guide me to the place where I dream of you and the wonderful man you are.
I see the flame beside me and it reminds me of another fire from decades ago, with me in your soft clothes and you in your jeans. I khen we would always be together, even though I wavered the following day. My heart had been captured, roped by a souther, and I knew ihat it had always been yours. Who was I to question a love that rode on shooting stars and roared like crashing waves? For that is what it was between us then and that is what it is today.
I remember ing back to you the day, the day my mother visited. I was so scared, more scared than I had ever been because I was sure you would never five me for leaving you. I was shaking as I got out of the car, but you took it all away with your smile and the way you held your hand out to me. "How bout some coffee," was all you said. And you never brought it up again. In all our years together.
Nor did you question me when I would leave and walk alohe few days. And when I came in with tears in my eyes, you always knew whether I needed you to hold me or to just let me be. I dont know how you knew, but you did, and you made it easier for me. Later when we went to the small chapel and traded s and made our vows, I looked in your eyes and knew I had made the right decision. But more than that, I knew I was foolish for ever sidering someone else. I have never wavered since.
We had a wonderful life together, and I think about it a lot now. I y eyes sometimes and see you with speckles of gray in your hair, sitting on the pord playing yuitar while little ones play and clap to the music you create. Your clothes are stained from hours of work and you are tired, and though I offer you time to relax, you smile and say, "That what I am doing now." I find your love for our children very sensual aing. "Youre a better father than you know," I tell you later, after the children are sleeping. Soon after, we peel off our clothes and kiss each other and almost lose ourselves before we are able to slip between the flannel sheets. I love you for many things, especially your passions, for they have always been those things which are most beautiful in life. Love and poetry and fatherhood and friendship ay and nature. And I am glad you have taught the childrehings, for I know their lives are better for it. They tell me how special you are to them, and every time they do, it makes me feel like the luckiest woman alive. You have taught me as well, and inspired me, and supported me in my painting, and you will never know how much it has meant to me. My works hang in museums and private colles now, and though there have been times when I was frazzled and distracted because of shows and critics, you were always there with kind words, encing me. You uood my need for my own studio, my own space, and saw beyond the paint on my clothes and in my hair and sometimes on the furniture. I know it was not easy.
It takes a man to do that, Noah, to live with something like that. And you have.
For forty-five years now. Wonderful years.
You are my best friend as well as my lover, and I do not know which side of you I enjoy the most. I treasure each side, just as I have treasured our life together.
You have something inside you, Noah, somethiiful and strong. Kindness, thats what I see when I look at you now, thats what everyone sees. Kindness. You are the most fiving and peaceful man I know. God is with you, He must be, for you are the closest thing to an ahat Ive ever met.
I know you thought me crazy for making us write our story before we finally leave our home, but I have my reasons and I thank you for your patience. And though you asked, I old you why, but now I think it is time you knew.
We have lived a lifetime most couples never know, a, when I look at you, I am frightened by the knowledge that all this will be ending soon. For we both know my prognosis and what it will mean to us. I see your tears and I worry more about you than I do about me, because I fear the pain I know you will gh. There are no words to express my sorrow for this, and I am at a loss for words.
So I love you so deeply, so incredibly much, that I will find a way to e back to you despite my disease, I promise you that. And this is where the story es in. When I am lost and lonely, read this story - just as you told it to the children - and know that in some way, I will realize it about us. And perhaps, just perhaps, we will find a way to be together again.
Please dont be angry with me on days I do not remember you, ah know they will e. Know that I love you, that I always will, and that no matter what happens, know I have led the greatest life possible. My life with you. And if you save this letter to read again, then believe what I am writing for you now. Noah, wherever you are and whehis is, I love you. I love you now as I write this, and I love you now as you read this. And I am so sorry if I am not able to tell you. I love you deeply, my husband. You are, and always have been, my dream. Allie
When I am finished with the letter, I put it aside. I rise from my desk and find my slippers. They are near my bed, and I must sit to put them on. Then, standing, I cross the room and open my door. I peek down the hall and see Janice seated at the main desk. At least I think it is Janice. I must pass this desk to get to Allies room, but at this hour I am not supposed to leave my room, and Janice has never beeo bend the rules. Her husband is a lawyer.
I wait to see if she will leave, but she does not seem to be moving, and I grow impatient.
I finally exit my room anyway, slow-shuffle, slide-the-right, slow-shuffle. It takes aeons to close the distance, but for some reason she does not see me approag.
I am a silent panther creeping through the jungle, I am as invisible as baby pigeons.
In the end I am discovered, but I am not surprised. I stand before her.
"Noah," she says, "what are you doing?"
"Im taking a walk," I say. "I t sleep."
"You know youre not supposed to do this."
"I know."
I dont move, though. I am determined.
"Youre not really going for a walk, are you? Yoing to see Allie."
"Yes," I answer.
"Noah, you know what happehe last time you saw her at night."
"I remember."
"Then you know you shouldnt be doing this."
I dont answer directly. Instead I say, "I miss her."
"I know you do, but I t let you see her."
"Its our anniversary," I say. This is true. It is one year befold. Forty-nine years today.
"I see."
"Then I go?"
She looks away for a moment, and her voice ges. Her voice is softer now, and I am surprised. She has ruck me as the seal type.
"Noah, Ive worked here for five years and I worked at another home before that. Ive seen hundreds of couples struggle with grief and sadness, but Ive never seen anyone ha like you do. No one around here, not the doctors, not the nurses, has ever seen anything like it."
She pauses for just a moment, and strangely, her eyes begin to fill with tears. She wipes them with her finger and goes on:
"I try to think what its like for you, how you keep going day after day, but I t even imagi. I dont know how you do it. You eve her disease sometimes. Even though the doctors dont uand it, we nurses do. Its love, its as simple as that. Its the most incredible thing Ive ever seen."
A lump has risen in my throat, and I am speechless.
"But Noah, youre not supposed to do this, and I t let you. So go back to your room." Then, smiling softly and sniffling and shuffling some papers on the desk, she says: "Me, Im going downstairs for some coffee. I wont be back to che you for a while, so dont do anything foolish."
She rises quickly, touches my arm, and walks toward the stairs. She doesnt look back, and suddenly I am alone. I dont know what to think. I look at where she had been sitting and see her coffee, a full cup, still steaming, and once again I learn that there are good people in the world.
I am warm for the first time in years as I begin my trek to Allies room. I take steps the size of Pixie straws, and even at that pace it is dangerous, for my legs have grown tired already. I find I must touch the wall to keep from falling down.
Lights buzz overhead, their fluorest glow making my eyes ache, and I squint a little. I walk by a dozen darkened rooms, rooms where I have read before, and I realize I miss the people ihey are my friends, whose faces I know so well, and I will see them all tomorrow. But not tonight, for there is no time to stop on this journey. I press on, and the movement forces blood through banished arteries. I feel myself being stronger with every step. I hear a door open behind me, but I dont hear footsteps, and I keep going. I am a stranger now. I ot be stopped. A phs in the ation, and I push forward so I will not be caught. I am a midnight bandit, masked and fleeing on horseback from sleepy desert towns, charging into yellow moons with gold dust in my saddlebags. I am young and strong with passion in my heart, and I will break down the door and lift her in my arms and carry her to paradise.
Who am I kidding?
I lead a simple life now. I am foolish, an old man in love, a dreamer who dreams of nothing but reading to Allie and holding her whenever I . I am a sinner with many faults and a man who believes in magic, but I am too old to ge and too old to care.
When I finally reach her room my body is weak. My legs wobble, my eyes are blurred, and my heart is beating funny inside my chest. I struggle with the knob, and in the end it takes two hands and three truckloads of effort. The door opens and light from the hallills in, illuminating the bed where she sleeps. I think, as I see her, I am nothing but a passerby on a busy city street, fotten forever.
Her room is quiet, and she is lying with the covers half. After a moment I see her roll to one side, and her noises bring back memories of happier times. She looks small in her bed, and as I watch her I know it is over between us. The air is stale and I shiver. This place has bee our tomb.
I do not move, on this our anniversary, for almost a minute, and I long to tell her how I feel, but I stay quiet so I wont wake her. Besides, it is written on the slip of paper that I will slide under her pillow. It says:
Love, in these last and tender hours is sensitive and very pure
light with soft-lit powers to awaken love thats ever sure.
I think I hear someone ing, so I enter her room and close the door behind me.
Blaess desds and I cross her floor from memory and reach the window. I open the curtains, and the moon stares back, large and full, the guardian of the evening.
I turn to Allie and dream a thousand dreams, and though I know I should not, I sit on her bed while I slip the note beh her pillow. Then I reach across aly touch her face, soft like powder. I stroke her hair, and my breath is taken away.
I feel wonder, I feel awe, like a poser first disc the works of Mozart.
She stirs and opens her eyes, squinting softly, and I suddenly regret my foolishness, for I know she will begin to cry and scream, for this is what she always does. I am impulsive and weak, this I know, but I feel an urge to attempt the impossible and I lean toward her, our faces drawing closer.
And when her lips meet mine, I feel a straingling I have never felt before, in all our years together, but I do not pull back. And suddenly, a miracle, for I feel her mouth open and I discover a fotten paradise, unged all this time, ageless like the stars. I feel the warmth of her body, and as our tongues meet, I allow myself to slip away, as I had so many years ago. I y eyes and bee a mighty ship in ing waters, strong and fearless, and she is my sails. I gently trace the outline of her cheek, then take her hand in mine. I kiss her lips, her cheeks, and listen as she takes a breath. She murmurs softly, "Oh, Noah... Ive missed you."
Another miracle - the greatest of all! - and theres no way I stop the tears as we begin to slip toward heaven itself. For at that moment, the world is full of wonder as I feel her fingers reach for the buttons on my shirt and slowly, ever so slowly, she begins to undo them one by one.天涯在线书库《www.tianyabook.com》