Nicholas Sparks - Message in a Bottle

By prior agreement, both Theresa and Garrett had decided it would be best if she and Kevin didn’t stay at Garrett’s house, but because it was still summer, nearly every room in town was booked. Luckily Garrett knew the owner of a small motel a mile up the beach from Garrett’s house, and he had been able to make arrangements for their stay.

When the day finally came for Theresa and Kevin to visit, Garrett bought some groceries, washed his truck inside and out, and showered before heading to the airport.

Dressed in khaki pants, Top-Siders, and the shirt that Theresa had bought him, he waited nervously at the gate.

In the last two weeks his feelings for Theresa had grown. He knew now that whatever happened between him and Theresa wasn’t based simply on physical attraction—his longing hinted at something much deeper, more lasting. As he craned his neck for a glimpse of her among the passengers, he felt a pang of anxiety. It had been so long since he’d felt this way about anyone—and where was it all going?

When Theresa stepped off the plane with Kevin beside her, all his nervousness suddenly faded away. She was beautiful—more so than he remembered. And Kevin—he looked exactly like his picture and a lot like his mother. He was a little over five feet, with Theresa’s dark hair and eyes, and gangly—both his arms and his legs seemed to have grown a little faster than the rest of him. He was wearing long Bermuda shorts, Nike shoes, and a shirt from a concert by Hootie and the Blowfish. His choice of apparel was clearly inspired by MTV and Garrett couldn’t help but smile to himself. Boston, Wilmington . . . it really didn’t matter, did it? Kids would be kids.

When Theresa saw him she waved, and Garrett moved toward them, reaching for their carry-on bags. Not sure whether he should kiss her in front of Kevin, he hesitated until Theresa leaned over and gaily kissed him on the cheek.

“Garrett, I’d like you to meet my son, Kevin,” she said proudly.

“Hi, Kevin.”

“Hi, Mr. Blake,” he said stiffly, as if Garrett were his teacher.

“Call me Garrett,” he said, holding out his hand. Kevin shook it, a little unsure. Until this point, no adult other than Annette had said that he could use their first name.

“How was your flight?” Garrett asked.

“Good,” Theresa responded.

“Did you get anything to eat?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, how about we grab a bite before I take you to your motel?”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you want anything in particular?” Garrett asked Kevin.

“I like McDonald’s.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Theresa said quickly, but Garrett stopped her with a shake of his head.

“McDonald’s is fine with me.”

“You sure?” Theresa asked.

“Positive. I eat there all the time.”

Kevin looked delighted at his answer, and the three of them started walking toward the baggage claim area. As they left the gates, Garrett asked:

“are you a good swimmer, Kevin?”

“Pretty good.”

“Are you up for some scuba lessons this weekend?”

“I think so—I’ve been reading up on it,” he said, trying to sound older than he was.

“Well, good. I was hoping you’d say that. If we’re lucky, we may even be able to get you certified before you head back.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a license that allows you to dive whenever you want—kind of like a driver’s license.”

“You can do that in a few days?”

“Sure. You’re required to take a written test and spend a few hours in the water with an instructor. But since you’ll be my only student this weekend—unless your mother wants to learn, too—we should have more than enough time.”

“Cool,” Kevin said. He turned toward Theresa. “Are you gonna learn, too, Mom?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I think you should,” Kevin said. “It would be fun.”

“He’s right—you should learn, too,” Garrett added with a smirk, knowing she would feel cornered by the two of them and probably give in.

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes, “I’ll go, too. But if I see any sharks, I’m quitting.”

“You mean there might be sharks?” Kevin asked quickly.

“Yeah, we’ll probably see some sharks. But they’re little and they don’t bother people.”

“How little?” Theresa asked, remembering the story he’d told about the hammerhead he’d encountered.

“Little enough that you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Cool,” Kevin repeated to himself, and Theresa glanced at Garrett, wondering if he was telling the truth.

* * *

After picking up their bags and stopping for a bite to eat, Garrett drove Theresa and Kevin to the motel. Once their things were inside, Garrett went back to his truck, returning with a book and some papers under his arms.

“Kevin—these are for you.”

“What are they?”

“It’s the book and the tests you need to read for your certification. Don’t worry—it looks like there’s more to read than there is. But if you want to head out tomorrow, you have to have the first two sections read and complete the first test.”

“Is it hard?”

“No—it’s pretty easy, but you still have to do it. And you can use the book to find the answers you’re not sure about.”

“You mean I can look up the answers while I take the test?”

Garrett nodded. “Yeah. When I give these to my classes, they’re supposed to do them at home and I’m sure almost everyone uses the book. The important thing is that you try to learn what you need to know. Diving is a lot of fun, but it can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Garrett handed Kevin the book as he went on.

“If you can finish by tomorrow—it’s about twenty pages to read, plus the test—we’ll head to the pool for the first part of your certification. You’ll learn how to put on your equipment and then we’ll practice for a while.”

“We’re not going in the ocean?”

“not tomorrow—you have to spend some time getting comfortable with the equipment first. After we spend a few hours doing that, then we’ll be ready. We’ll probably hit the ocean on Monday and Tuesday for your first open-water dives. And if you get enough hours in the water, you’ll have a temporary certification by the time you step on the plane to go home. Then, all you have to do is mail an application, and you’ll get the actual certification in the mail in a couple of weeks.”

Kevin began to flip through the pages. “Does Mom have to do it, too?”

“If she wants to be certified, she does.”

Theresa walked over, peeking over Kevin’s shoulder as he glanced through the book. The information didn’t look too daunting.

“Kevin,” she said, “we can do it together tomorrow morning, if you’re too tired to start now.”

“I’m not too tired,” he said quickly.

“Then would you mind if Garrett and I talked on the patio for a while?”

“No, go ahead,” he said absently, already turning to the first page.

Once outside, Garrett and Theresa sat across from each other. Glancing back at her son, Theresa saw that Kevin was already reading.

“You’re not cutting any corners to get him certified, are you?”

Garrett shook his head. “No, not at all. To get a PADI certificate—the certificate for recreational divers—you need to pass the tests and spend a certain amount of time in the water with an instructor—that’s all. Usually we pace it out over three or four weekends, but that’s because most people don’t have time to do it during the week. He’ll get the same number of hours—it’s just more condensed.”