Message in a Bottle(23)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

ian answered the phone. “Hold on, I think he’s in his office. Who’s calling, please?”

“Tell him it’s someone who wants to schedule some dive lessons in a couple of weeks.” She tried to sound as distant as she could, not sure if Ian knew about them.

Ian put her on hold, and there was silence for a short moment. Then the line clicked and Garrett came on.

“Can I help you?” he asked, sounding a little frazzled.

She said simply: “You shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you did.”

He recognized her voice, and his tone brightened. “Hey, it’s you. I’m glad they arrived. Do they look okay?”

“They’re beautiful. How did you know I loved roses?”

“I didn’t, but I’ve never heard of a woman who didn’t, so I took a chance.”

She smiled. “So you send lots of women roses?”

“Millions. I have a lot of fans. Dive instructors are almost like movie stars, you know.”

“They are, huh?”

“You mean you didn’t know? And here I thought you were just another groupie.”

She laughed. “Thanks a lot.”

“Sure. Did anyone ask who they were from?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

“I hope you said good things.”

“I did. I told them you were sixty-eight and fat, with a horrible lisp that made it impossible to understand you. But since you were so pitiful, I went ahead and had lunch with you. And now, unfortunately, you’re stalking me.”

“Hey, that hurts,” he said. He paused. “So . . . I hope the roses will remind you that I’m thinking about you.”

“they might,” she said coyly.

“Well, I am thinking about you and I don’t want you to forget it.”

She glanced at the roses. “Ditto,” she said quietly.

After they had hung up, Theresa sat quietly for a moment, reaching for the card again. She read it once more, and this time, instead of putting it back with the flowers, she placed it in her purse for safekeeping. Knowing this crowd, she was sure someone would read it when she wasn’t looking.

*  *  *

“So, what’s he like?”

Deanna sat across from Theresa at the table in the restaurant. Theresa handed Deanna the pictures from her vacation.

“I don’t know where to start.”

Staring at a picture of Garrett and Theresa on the beach, Deanna spoke without looking at her.

“Start at the beginning. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Since Theresa had already told her about meeting Garrett at the docks, she picked up her story from the evening they spent sailing. She told Deanna how she had purposely left her jacket on board as an excuse to see him again—to which Deanna replied, “Marvelous!”—moving on to their lunch the next day and finally to their dinner. Recapping the final four days they spent together, she left very little out as Deanna listened with rapt attention.

“It sounds like you had a wonderful time,” Deanna said, smiling like a proud mother.

“I did. It was one of the best weeks I’ve ever spent. It’s just that . . .”

“What?”

it took a moment for her to answer. “Well, Garrett said something toward the end that got me wondering where this whole thing was going to go from here.”

“What did he say?”

“It wasn’t just what he said, but how he said it. He sounded as if he weren’t sure he wanted us to see each other again.”

“I thought you said that you were going down to Wilmington again in a couple of weeks.”

“I am.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

She fidgeted, trying to collect her thoughts. “Well, he’s still struggling with Catherine and . . . and I’m not exactly sure whether he’ll ever get over it.”

Deanna laughed suddenly.

“What’s so funny?” Theresa asked, startled.

“You are, Theresa. What did you expect? You knew he was still struggling with Catherine before you went down there. Remember, it was his ‘undying’ love that you found so attractive in the first place. Did you think that he’d completely get over Catherine in a couple of days, just because you two hit it off so well?”

Theresa looked sheepish and Deanna laughed again.

“You did , didn’t you? That’s exactly what you thought.”

“Deanna, you weren’t there. . . . You don’t know how right everything seemed between us, up until the last night.”

Deanna’s voice softened. “Theresa, I know there’s a part of you that believes you can change someone, but the reality is that you can’t. You can change yourself, and Garrett can change himself, but you can’t do it for him.”

“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.

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.