Nicholas Sparks - A Bend in the Road

She had a date to get ready for.

Through the window an hour later, Sarah saw Miles coming around the corner with a long box under his arm. He paused for a moment, as if he were making sure he was in the right place, then opened the downstairs door and vanished inside. As she heard him climb the stairs, she smoothed the black cocktail dress she’d agonized over while deciding what to wear, then opened the door. “Hey there… am I late?”

Sarah smiled. “No, you’re right on time. I saw you coming up.”

Miles took a deep breath. “You look beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you.” She motioned toward the box. “Is that for me?”

He nodded as he handed her the box. Inside were six yellow roses.

“There’s one for every week you’ve been working with Jonah.”

“That’s sweet,” she said sincerely. “My mom will be impressed.”

“Your mom?”

She smiled. “I’ll tell you about her later. C’mon in while I find something to put these in.”

Miles stepped inside and took a quick glance around her apartment. It was charming-smaller than he thought it would be, but surprisingly homey, and most of the furniture blended well with the place. There was a comfortable-looking couch framed in wood, end tables with an almost fashionable fade to the stain, a nicked-up glider rocker in the corner beneath a lamp that looked a hundred years old-even the patchwork quilt thrown over the back of the chair looked like something from the last century.

In the kitchen, Sarah opened the cupboard above the sink, pushed aside a couple of bowls, and pulled down a small crystal vase, which she filled with water. “This is a nice place you’ve got,” he said.

Sarah looked up. “Thanks. I like it.”

“Did you decorate it yourself?”

“Pretty much. I brought some things from Baltimore, but once I saw all the antique stores, I decided to replace most of it. There are some great places around here.”

Miles ran his hand along an old rolltop desk near the window, then pushed aside the curtains to peek out. “Do you like living downtown?” From the drawer, Sarah pulled out a pair of scissors and started angling the bottoms of the stems. “Yeah, but I’ll tell you, the commotion around here keeps me up all night long. All those crowds, those people screaming and fighting, partying until dawn. It’s amazing that I ever get to sleep at all.” “That quiet, huh?”

She arranged the flowers in the vase, one by one. “This is the first place I’ve ever lived where everybody seems to be in bed by nine o’clock. It’s like a ghost town down here as soon as the sun goes down, but I’ll bet that makes your job pretty easy, huh?”

“To be honest, it doesn’t really affect me. Except for eviction notices, my jurisdiction ends at the town limits. I generally work in the county.” “Running those speed traps that the South is famous for?” she asked playfully.

Miles shook his head. “No, that’s not me, either. That’s the highway patrol.”

“So what you’re really saying is that you don’t really do much at all, then…

.”

“Exactly,” he concurred. “Aside from teaching, I can’t think of any job less challenging to do.”

She laughed as she slid the vase toward the center of the counter. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” She stepped out from behind the counter and reached for her purse. “So where are we going?”

“Right around the corner. The Harvey Mansion. Oh, and it’s a little cool out, so you should probably wear a jacket,” he said, eyeing her sleeveless dress. Sarah went to the closet, remembering her mother’s words on her message, wishing she hadn’t listened to it. She hated being cold, and she was one of those people who got cold very easily. But instead of going for the “big long green one” that would keep her warm, she picked out a light jacket that matched her dress, something that would have made her mother nod appreciatively. Classy. When she slipped it on, Miles looked at her as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

“Is something wrong?” she asked as she pulled it on.

“Well… it’s cold out there. You sure you don’t want something warmer?”

“You won’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

She gladly switched jackets (the big long green one), and Miles helped her put it on, holding the sleeves open for her. A moment later, after locking the front door, they were making their way down the steps. As soon as Sarah stepped outside, the temperature nipped at her cheeks and she instinctively buried her hands in her pockets.

“Don’t you think it was too chilly for your other jacket?” “Definitely,” she said, smiling thankfully. “But it doesn’t match what I’m wearing.”

“I’d rather you be comfortable. And besides, this one looks good on you.”

She loved him for that. Take that, Mom!

They started down the street, and a few steps later-surprising herself as much as Miles-she took one hand from her pocket and looped it through his arm. “So,” she said, “let me tell you about my mother.”

At their table a few minutes later, Miles couldn’t stifle a laugh. “She sounds great.”

“Easy for you to say. She’s not your mother.”

“It’s just her way of showing you that she loves you.”

“I know. But it would be easier if she didn’t always worry so much. Sometimes I think she does it on purpose just to drive me crazy.”

Despite her obvious exasperation, Sarah looked positively luminous in the flickering candlelight, Miles decided.

The Harvey Mansion was one of the better restaurants in town. Originally a home dating from the 1790s, it was a popular romantic getaway. When it was being redesigned for its current use, the owners decided to retain most of the floor plan. Miles and Sarah were led up a curving set of stairs and were seated in what was once a library. Dimly lit, it was a medium-size room with red-oak flooring and an intricately designed tin ceiling. Along two walls were mahogany shelves, lined with hundreds of books; along the third wall, the fireplace cast an ethereal glow. Sarah and Miles were seated in the corner near the window. There were only five other tables, and though all were occupied, people talked in low murmurs.

“Mmm… I think you’re right,” Miles said. “Your mother probably lies awake at night thinking of new ways to torment you.”

“I thought you said you’d never met her.”

Miles chuckled. “Well, at least she’s around. Like I told you when we first met, I hardly even talk to my father anymore.”

“Where is he now?”

“I have no idea. I got a postcard a couple of months ago from Charleston, but there’s no telling if he’s still there. He doesn’t usually stay in one place all that long, he doesn’t call, and he very seldom makes it back to town. He hasn’t seen me or Jonah for years now.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“It’s just the way he is, but then, he wasn’t exactly Ward Cleaver when I was little. Half the time, I got the impression he didn’t like having us around.” “Us?”

“Me and my mom.”

“Didn’t he love her?”

“I have no idea.”

“Oh, come on…”

“I’m serious. She was pregnant when they got married, and I can’t honestly say they were ever meant for each other. They ran real hot and cold-one day they were madly in love, and the next day she was throwing his clothes on the front lawn and telling him never to come back. And when she died, he just took up and left as fast as he could. Quit his job, sold the house, bought himself a boat, and told me he was going to see the world. Didn’t know a thing about sailing, either. Said he’d learn what he needed as he went along, and I guess he has.” Sarah frowned. “That’s a little strange.”