Nicholas Sparks - Safe Haven

He pulled one out from under the counter and began to ring her up while he explained how it worked. She had extra money in her purse tucked into a tampon case because she knew Kevin would never look there. She pulled it out, laying the crumpled bills on the counter. The clock was continuing to tick and she looked out at the lot again. She was beginning to feel dizzy and her mouth had gone dry.

It took the clerk forever to ring her up. Though she was paying cash, he asked for her name, address, and zip code. Pointless. Ridiculous. She wanted to pay and get out of there. She counted to ten and the clerk still typed. On the road, the light had turned red. Cars were waiting. She wondered if Kevin was getting ready to turn into the lot. She wondered if he would see her leaving the store. It was hard for her to breathe again.

She tried to open the plastic packaging, but it was impossible — as strong as steel. Too big for her small handbag, too big for her pocket. She asked the clerk for a pair of scissors and it took him a precious minute to find one. She wanted to scream, to tell him to hurry because Kevin would be here any minute. She turned toward the window instead.

When the phone was free, she jammed it into her jacket pocket along with the prepaid card. The clerk asked if she wanted a bag but she was out the door without answering. The phone felt like lead, and the snow and ice made it hard to keep her balance.

She opened the door of the salon and went back inside. She slipped off her jacket and gloves and waited by the register. Thirty seconds later, she saw Kevin’s car turn into the lot, angling toward the salon.

There was snow on her jacket and she quickly brushed at it as Rachel came toward her. Katie panicked at the thought that Kevin might have noticed. She concentrated, urging herself to stay in control. To act natural.

“Did you forget something?” Rachel asked.

Katie exhaled. “I was going to wait outside but it’s too cold,” she explained. “And then I realized I didn’t get your card.”

Rachel’s face lit up. “Oh, that’s right. Hold on a second,” she said. She walked toward her station and pulled a card from the drawer. Katie knew that Kevin was watching her from inside the car, but she pretended not to notice.

Rachel returned with her business card and handed it over. “I usually don’t work on Sundays or Mondays,” she said.

Katie nodded. “I’ll give you a call.”

Behind her, she heard the door open and Kevin was standing in the doorway. He usually didn’t come inside and her heart pounded. She slipped her jacket back on, trying to control the trembling of her hands. Then, she turned and smiled.

The snow was falling harder as Kevin Tierney pulled the car into the driveway. There were bags of groceries in the backseat and Kevin grabbed three of them before walking toward the door. He’d said nothing on the drive from the salon, had said little to her in the grocery store. Instead, he’d walked beside her as she scanned the shelves looking for sales and trying not to think about the phone in her pocket. Money was tight and Kevin would be angry if she spent too much. Their mortgage took nearly half his salary, and credit card bills consumed another chunk. Most of the time, they had to eat in, but he liked restaurant-type meals, with a main course and two side dishes and sometimes a salad. He refused to eat leftovers and it was hard to make the budget stretch. She had to plan the menu carefully, and she cut coupons from the newspaper. When Kevin paid for the groceries, she handed him the change from the salon and the receipt. He counted the money, making sure everything was there.

At home, she rubbed her arms to stay warm. The house was old and frigid air wormed its way through the window seams and beneath the front door. The bathroom floor was cold enough to make her feet ache, but Kevin complained about the cost of heating oil and never let her adjust the thermostat. When he was at work, she wore a sweatshirt and slippers around the house, but when he was home, he wanted her to look sexy.

Kevin placed the bags of groceries on the kitchen table. She put her bags beside his as he moved to the refrigerator. Opening the freezer, he pulled out a bottle of vodka and a couple of ice cubes. He dropped the cubes into a glass and poured the vodka. The glass was nearly full by the time he stopped pouring. Leaving her alone, he went to the living room and she heard the television come on and the sounds of ESPN. The announcer was talking about the Patriots and the play-offs and the chances of winning another Super Bowl. Last year, Kevin had gone to a Patriots game; he’d been a fan since childhood.

Katie slipped her jacket off and reached into the pocket. She had, she suspected, a couple of minutes and she hoped it was enough. After peeking in the living room, she hurried to the sink. In the cupboard below, there was a box of SOS scrubbing pads. She placed the cell phone at the bottom of the box and put the pads over the top of it. She closed the cupboard quietly before grabbing her jacket, hoping her face wasn’t flushed, praying he hadn’t seen her. With a long breath to steel herself, she looped it over her arm, carrying it through the living room toward the foyer closet. The room seemed to stretch as she moved through it, like a room viewed through a fun-house mirror at a carnival, but she tried to ignore the sensation. She knew he’d be able to see through her, to read her mind and know what she’d done, but he never turned away from the television. Only when she was back in the kitchen did her breathing begin to slow.

She began to unpack the groceries, still feeling dazed but knowing she had to act normal. Kevin liked a tidy house, especially the kitchen and bathrooms. She put away the cheese and eggs in their separate compartments in the refrigerator. She pulled the old vegetables from the drawer and wiped it down before putting the new vegetables on the bottom. She kept out some green beans and found a dozen red potatoes in a basket on the pantry floor. She left a cucumber on the counter, along with iceberg lettuce and a tomato for a salad. The main course was marinated strip steaks.

She’d put the steaks in the marinade the day before: red wine, orange juice, grapefruit juice, salt, and pepper. The acidity of the juices made the meat tender and gave it extra flavor. It was in a casserole dish on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.

She put the rest of the groceries away, rotating the older items to the front, then folded the bags and put them under the sink. From a drawer, she removed a knife; the cutting board was beneath the toaster and she set that near the burner. She cut the potatoes in half, only enough for the two of them. She oiled a baking pan, turned the oven on, and seasoned the potatoes with parsley, salt, pepper, and garlic. They would go in before the steaks and she would have to reheat them. The steaks needed to be broiled.

Kevin liked his salads finely diced, with blue cheese crumbles and croutons and Italian dressing. She cut the tomato in half and cut a quarter of the cucumber before wrapping the remainder in plastic wrap and putting it back in the refrigerator. As she opened the door, she noticed Kevin in the kitchen behind her, leaning against the doorjamb that led to the dining room. He took a long drink, finishing his vodka and continuing to watch her, his presence all-encompassing.

He didn’t know she’d left the salon, she reminded herself. He didn’t know she’d bought a cell phone. He would have said something. He would have done something.

“Steaks tonight?” he finally asked.

She closed the refrigerator door and kept moving, trying to appear busy, staying ahead of her fears. “Yes,” she said. “I just turned on the oven, so it’ll be a few minutes. I’ve got to put the potatoes in first.”