Николас Спаркс - The Choice

He debated for a moment before leaning against the counter. “Actually, could we wait for a little while? I’d like to enjoy my glass of wine first.”

She nodded, and in the silence she stood before him, wondering what she was supposed to do next.

“Would you like to go sit outside?”

“Love to.”

They took a seat in the rockers she’d placed near the door. Gabby took a sip of her wine, glad for something to take the edge off her nerves.

“I like your view,” Travis said gamely, rocking back and forth with energy. “It reminds me of mine.”

Gabby laughed, feeling a little burst of relief. “Unfortunately, I haven’t learned to enjoy it the way you do.”

“Very few people do. It’s kind of a lost art these days, even in the South. Watching the creek flow by is a little like smelling the roses.”

“Maybe it’s a small-town thing,” she speculated.

Travis eyed her with interest. “Tell me honestly, are you enjoying life in Beaufort?” he asked.

“It has its good points.”

“I hear the neighbors are terrific.”

“I’ve only met one.”

“And?”

“He has a tendency to ask loaded questions.”

Travis grinned. He loved her sense of play.

“But to answer your question,” she went on, “yes, I do like it here. I like the fact that it takes only a few minutes to get anywhere, it’s beautiful, and for the most part, I think I’m learning to love the slower pace of life.”

“You make it sound like Savannah is as cosmopolitan as New York or Paris.”

“It isn’t.” She looked over her glass at him. “But I will say that Savannah is definitely closer to New York than Beaufort. Have you ever been there?”

“I spent a week there one night.”

“Ha-ha. You know, if you’re going to make a joke, you could try coming up with something original.”

“That’s too much work.”

“And you’re averse to work, right?”

“Can’t you tell?” He leaned back in his rocker, the picture of ease. “Tell me the truth, though. Do you think you’ll ever move back?”

She took a swallow of wine before answering. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s a great place, and it’s one of the most beautiful cities in the South. I love the way the city was laid out. It has the most beautiful squares—these lovely parks scattered every few blocks—and some of the houses that front them are stunning. When I was a little girl, I used to imagine myself living in one of them. For a long time, it was a dream of mine.”

Travis stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Gabby shrugged. “But as I grew older, I began to realize that it was more my mom’s dream than my own. She always wanted to live in one of those homes, and I remember the way she used to badger my dad to put in an offer whenever one was for sale. My dad did well, don’t get me wrong, but I could tell it always bothered him that he couldn’t afford one of the really grand houses, and after a while, it just rubbed me the wrong way.” She paused. “Anyway, I guess I wanted something different. Which led, of course, to college and PA school and Kevin. And here I am.”

From a distance, they heard Moby begin barking frantically, the sound followed by the faint rustling of claws on bark. Glancing at the large oak tree near the hedges, Travis watched as a squirrel raced up the trunk. Though he couldn’t see him, he knew that Moby was still circling the oak, thinking that somehow the critter would lose its grip. Noticing that Gabby had turned at the sound, Travis raised his glass in that direction.

“My dog is crazy about chasing squirrels. He seems to regard it as his life’s purpose.”

“Most dogs do.”

“Does Molly?”

“No. Her owner has a bit more control over her, and she nipped that little problem in the bud before it got out of hand.”

“I see,” Travis said with mock seriousness.

Over the water, the first brilliant act of the sun’s descent was beginning. In another hour the creek would turn golden, but for now there was something dark and mysterious about its brackish color. Beyond the cypress trees lining the bank, Travis could see an osprey floating on updrafts and watched as a small motorboat loaded with fishing gear puttered past. It was captained by someone old enough to be Travis’s grandfather, and the gentleman waved. Travis returned the greeting, then took another drink.

“With all you said, I’m curious as to whether you can imagine yourself staying in Beaufort.”

She thought about her answer, sensing there was more to the question than it appeared.

“I suppose that depends,” she finally hedged. “It’s not exactly exciting, but on the other hand, it’s not a bad place to raise a family.”

“And that’s important?”

She turned toward him with a faint air of challenge. “Is there anything more important?”

“No,” he agreed evenly, “there isn’t. I’m evidence of that belief because I lived it. Beaufort is the kind of place where Little League baseball generates more conversation than the Super Bowl, and I like thinking that I can raise my kids where the little world they live in is all they know. Growing up, I used to think that this was the most boring place in the world, but when I think back, I realize that the corollary to that was that anything exciting meant that much more to me. I never grew jaded, the way so many city kids do.” He paused. “I remember going fishing with my dad every Saturday morning, and even though my dad was just about the worst fisherman who ever baited a hook, I found it thrilling. Now I understand that for my dad, at least, it was all about spending time with me, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that. I like thinking that I can give my kids the same kinds of experiences someday.”

“It’s nice to hear you say something like that,” Gabby said. “A lot of people don’t think that way.”

“I love this town.”

“Not that,” she said, smiling. “I was talking about the way you wanted to raise your kids. It seems like you’ve given it a lot of thought.”

“I have,” he conceded.

“You always have a way of surprising me, don’t you.”

“I don’t know. Do I?”

“A little. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more you’ve come to strike me as impossibly well-adjusted.”

“I could say the same about you,” he responded. “Maybe that’s why we get along so well.”

She stared at him, feeling the crackle of tension between them. “You ready for dinner yet?”

He swallowed, hoping she couldn’t sense his feelings for her. “That sounds great,” he forced out.

Taking their wineglasses, they returned to the kitchen. Gabby motioned for Travis to sit at the table while she got things ready, and as he watched her move around the kitchen, he felt a sense of contentment settle upon him.

At dinner, he ate two pieces of chicken, enjoyed the green beans and the pasta, and complimented Gabby extravagantly on her cooking, until she giggled, begging him to stop. He asked her repeatedly about her childhood in Savannah, and she finally relented, regaling him with a couple of girlhood stories that made them both chuckle. In time, the sky turned gray and blue and finally black. The candles burned lower, and they poured the last of the wine into their glasses, both aware that they were sitting across from a person who just might change the course of their lives forever if they weren’t careful.

After dinner was over and Travis helped Gabby clean up, they retreated to the couch, nursing their wine and sharing stories from their pasts. Gabby tried to imagine Travis as a young boy, wondering also what she would have thought about him had they met during her high school or college years.