Nicholas Sparks - Message in a Bottle

“I know that—”

“But you don’t,” Deanna said, gently cutting her off. “Or if you do, you don’t want to see it that way. Your vision, as they say, has become clouded.”

Theresa thought for a moment about what she’d said.

“Let’s take an objective look at what happened with Garrett, shall we?” Deanna asked.

Theresa nodded.

“Though you knew something about Garrett, he knew absolutely nothing about you. Yet he was the one who asked you to go sailing. So something between you two must have clicked right away. Next, you see him again when you pick up your jacket, and he asks you to lunch. He tells you about Catherine and then asks you to come over for dinner. After that, you spend four wonderful days together getting to know—and care for—each other. Had you told me before you’d left that this is what would have happened, I wouldn’t have believed it possible. But it did—that’s the thing. And now, you two are planning to see each other again. To me, it sounds like the whole thing was a smashing success.”

“Then, you mean I shouldn’t worry about whether he’ll ever get over Catherine?”

Deanna shook her head. “Not exactly. But look—you’ve got to take this one step at a time. The fact is, you only spent a few days together so far—that’s not enough time to make a decision about something like this. If I were you, I’d see how you both feel over the next couple of weeks, and when you see him the next time, you’re bound to know a lot more than you know now.”

“Do you think so?” Theresa eyed her friend worriedly.

“I was right about twisting your arm to get you down there in the first place, wasn’t I?”

* * *

While Theresa and Deanna were eating, Garrett was working in his office behind a giant stack of papers when the door opened. Jeb Blake entered, making sure that his son was alone before closing the door behind him. After taking a seat in the chair across from Garrett’s desk, Jeb pulled some tobacco and rolling paper from his pocket and began to roll his cigarette.

“Go ahead and sit down. As you can see, I don’t have much to do.” Garrett gestured toward the pile.

Jeb smiled and continued rolling. “I called the shop a couple of times and they said you hadn’t come in all week. What have you been up to?”

Leaning back in his chair, Garrett eyed his father. “I’m sure you already know the answer to your question, and that’s probably the reason you’re here.”

“You were with Theresa the whole time?”

“Yeah, I was.”

Continuing to roll his cigarette, Jeb asked nonchalantly, “So, what did you two do with yourselves?”

“We went sailing, walked on the beach, talked. . . . You know, just got to know each other.”

Jeb finished with his cigarette and put it in his mouth. He pulled a Zippo lighter from his front shirt pocket, lit up, and inhaled deeply. Exhaling, he gave Garrett a roguish grin.

“Did you cook those steaks like I taught you?”

Garrett smirked. “Of course.”

“Was she impressed?”

“She was very impressed.”

Jeb nodded and took another drag from his cigarette. Garrett could feel the air in the office beginning to grow stale.

“well then, she has at least one good quality, doesn’t she.”

“She’s got a lot more than one, Dad.”

“You liked her, didn’t you?”

“Very much.”

“Even though you don’t know her very well?”

“I feel like I know everything about her.”

Jeb nodded and said nothing for a moment. Finally he asked, “Are you going to see her again?”

“Actually, she’s coming down in a couple of weeks with her son.”

Jeb watched Garrett’s expression carefully. Then, standing, he started toward the door. Before opening it, he turned and faced his son. “Garrett, can I give you some advice?”

Startled at his father’s abrupt departure, he answered: “Sure.”

“If you like her, if she makes you happy, and if you feel like you know her—then don’t let her go.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Jeb looked directly at Garrett and took another drag on his cigarette. “Because if I know you, you’re going to be the one who ends it, and I’m here to try to stop you if I can.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he said quietly. Turning around, Jeb opened the door and left Garrett’s office without another word.

* * *

Later that night, with the remnants of his father’s comments rolling through his head, Garrett couldn’t sleep. He rose from his bed and went to the kitchen, knowing what needed to be done. In the drawer, he found the stationery he always used when his mind was conflicted, and he sat down with the hopes of putting his thoughts into words.

My darling Catherine,

I don’t know what’s happening to me, and I don’t know if I ever will. So much has happened lately that I can’t make sense of what I’m going through.

Garrett sat at the table for an hour after writing those first two lines, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of anything else to say. But when he woke the following morning, unlike most days, his first thought wasn’t about Catherine.

Instead it was about Theresa.

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Garrett and Theresa spoke on the phone every night, sometimes for hours. Garrett also sent a couple of letters—short notes, really—to let her know that he missed her, and he had another dozen roses delivered the following week, this time with a box of candy.

Theresa didn’t want to send him flowers or candy, so instead she sent him a light blue oxford shirt she thought would look good with his jeans, along with a couple of cards.

Kevin arrived home a few days later, and it made the next week pass much more quickly for Theresa than for Garrett. His first night home, Kevin ate dinner with Theresa, telling her about his vacation in fits and starts before collapsing into a deep sleep for almost fifteen hours. When he woke, there was already a long list of things that needed to be done. He needed new clothes for school—he’d already outgrown most of what he’d worn the previous year—and he had to sign up for fall league soccer, which ended up taking almost an entire Saturday. In addition, he’d come home with a suitcase full of dirty laundry that needed to be washed, he wanted to develop the pictures he’d taken on his vacation, and he had a Tuesday afternoon appointment with the orthodontist to see if he needed braces.

In other words, life was back to normal at the Osborne household.

On Kevin’s second night back, Theresa told him about her vacation at the Cape, then about her trip to Wilmington. She mentioned Garrett, trying to convey how she felt about him without alarming Kevin. At first, when she explained how they were going to visit him the following weekend, Kevin didn’t sound so sure about it. But after she told him what Garrett did for a living, Kevin began to show some signs of interest.

“You mean he might teach me how to scuba dive?” he asked as she was vacuuming the house.

“He said that he would, if you wanted to.”

“Cool,” he said, returning to whatever he’d been doing before.

A few nights later she took him to the store to get him a few magazines about diving. By the time they were ready to leave, Kevin knew the name of every piece of equipment it was possible to own, obviously dreaming about his upcoming adventure.

Garrett, meanwhile, plunged ahead with work. He worked late, thinking about Theresa while he did so, acting much the same way he had after Catherine’s death. When he mentioned to his father how much he missed Theresa, his father only nodded and smiled. Something in his father’s assessing gaze made Garrett wonder what exactly was going through the old man’s mind.