Message in a Bottle(31)
Author: Nicholas Sparks

And then she was gone. He stopped again. The rain and fog made it impossible to see anymore.

“Where are you?” he shouted again.

Nothing.

“Where are you?” he shouted, even louder this time.

“I’m here,” a voice said from the rain and mist.

he wiped the rain from his face. “Catherine? . . . Is it really you?”

“It’s me, Garrett.”

But it wasn’t her voice.

Theresa stepped out of the fog. “I’m here.”

Garrett woke and sat up in bed, sweating profusely. Wiping his face with the sheet, he sat up for a long time afterward.

*  *  *

Later that day, Garrett met with his father.

“I think I want to marry her, Dad.”

They were fishing together at the end of the pier with a dozen other people, most of whom seemed lost in thought. Jeb looked up in surprise.

“Two days ago, it didn’t seem like you wanted to see her again.”

“I’ve done a lot of thinking since then.”

“You must have,” Jeb said quietly. He reeled in his line, checked the bait, then cast again. Even though he doubted he’d catch anything he wanted to keep, fishing was, in his estimation, one of life’s greatest pleasures.

“Do you love her?” Jeb asked.

Garrett looked at him, surprised. “Of course I do. I’ve told you that a few times.”

Jeb Blake shook his head. “No . . . you haven’t,” he said sincerely. “We’ve talked about her a lot—you’ve told me that she makes you happy, that you feel like you know her, and that you don’t want to lose her—but you’ve never told me that you love her.”

“It’s the same thing.”

“Is it?”

*  *  *

After he’d gone home, the conversation he’d had with his father kept repeating itself in his mind.

“Is it? ”

“Of course it is,” he’d said right away. “And even if it isn’t, I do love her.”

Jeb stared at his son for a moment before finally turning away. “You want to marry her?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I love her, that’s why. Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe.”

Garrett reeled in his line, frustrated. “Weren’t you the one who thought we should get married in the first place?”

“Yeah.”

“So why are you questioning it now?”

“Because I want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. Two days ago, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to see her again. Now, you’re ready for marriage. It just seems like a mighty big turnaround to me, and I want to make sure it’s because of the way you feel about Theresa—and that it doesn’t have anything to do with Catherine.”

Bringing up her name stung a little.

“Catherine doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Garrett said quickly. He shook his head and sighed deeply. “You know, Dad, I don’t understand you sometimes. You’ve been pushing me into this the whole time. You kept telling me I had to put the past behind me, that I had to find someone new. And now that I have, it seems like you’re trying to talk me out of it.”

Jeb put his free hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “I’m not talking you out of anything, garrett. I’m glad you found Theresa, I’m glad that you love her, and yes, I do hope that you end up marrying her. I just said that if you’re going to get married, then you’d better be doing it for the right reasons. Marriage is between two people, not three. And it’s not fair to her if you go into it otherwise.”

It took a moment for him to respond.

“Dad, I want to get married because I love her. I want to spend my life with her.”

His father stood silently for a long time, watching. Then he said something that made Garrett look away.

“So, in other words, you’re telling me that you’re completely over Catherine?”

Though he felt the expectant weight of his father’s gaze, Garrett didn’t know the answer.

*  *  *

“Are you tired?” Garrett asked.

He was lying on his bed as he spoke with Theresa, with only the bedside lamp turned on.

“Yeah, I got in just a little while ago. It was a long weekend.”

“Did it turn out as well as you hoped it would?”

“I hope so. There’s no way to tell just yet, but I did meet a lot of people who could eventually help me out with my column.”

“It’s a good thing you went, then.”

“Good and bad. Most of the time, I wished I’d gone to visit you instead.”

He smiled. “When do you leave for your parents’?”

“Wednesday morning. I’ll be gone until Sunday.”

“Are they looking forward to seeing you?”

“Yeah, they are. They haven’t seen Kevin for almost a year, and i know they’re looking forward to having him around for a few days.”

“That’s good.”

There was a short pause.

“Garrett?”

“Yeah.”

She spoke softly. “I just want you to know that I’m still really sorry about this weekend.”

“I know.”

“Can I make it up to you?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well . . . can you come up here to visit the weekend after Thanksgiving?”

“I suppose so.”

“Good, because I’m going to plan a special weekend just for the two of us.”

*  *  *

It was a weekend that neither of them would ever forget.

Theresa had called him more than usual in the preceding two weeks. Usually it had been Garrett who called, but it seemed that every time he’d wanted to talk to her, she had anticipated it. Twice, while he was walking to the phone to dial her number, it started ringing before he got there, and the second time it happened, he simply answered the phone with, “Hi, Theresa.” It had surprised her, and they joked for a while about his psychic abilities before settling into an easy conversation.

When he arrived in Boston two weeks later, Theresa met him at the airport. She had told him to wear something dressy, and he walked off the plane wearing a blazer, something she’d never seen him in before.

“wow,” she’d said simply.

He adjusted the blazer self-consciously. “Do I look okay?”

“You look great.”

They went straight from the airport to dinner. She’d made reservations at the most elegant restaurant in town. They had a leisurely, wonderful meal, and afterward Theresa took Garrett to Les Misйrables , which was currently showing in Boston. The play was sold out, but because Theresa knew the manager, they found themselves seated in the best section of the house.

It was late by the time they got back, and to Garrett, the following day seemed just as rushed. Theresa took him to her office and showed him around—introducing him to a couple of people—and afterward they visited the Museum of Fine Arts for the rest of the afternoon. That evening they met Deanna and Brian for dinner at Anthony’s—a restaurant on the top floor of the Prudential Building that offered wonderful views of the entire city.

Garrett had never seen anything like it.

Their table was near the window. Deanna and Brian both rose from their seats to greet them. “You remember Garrett from brunch, don’t you?” Theresa asked, trying not to sound too ridiculous.

“Of course I do. It’s good to see you again, Garrett,” Deanna said, leaning in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry I forced Theresa to come with me a couple of weeks ago. I hope you haven’t been too hard on her.”

“It’s okay,” he said, nodding stiffly.

“I’m glad. Because looking back, I think it was worth it.”

Garrett looked at her curiously. Theresa leaned in and asked, “What do you mean, Deanna?”

deanna’s eyes sparkled. “I got some good news yesterday, after you left.”

“What is it?” Theresa asked.

“Well,” she said nonchalantly, “I talked to Dan Mandel, the head of Media Information Inc., for about twenty minutes or so, and it turns out he was very impressed with you. He liked the way you handled yourself and thought you were quite a pro. And best of all . . .”

Deanna paused dramatically, doing her best to stifle a smile.

“Yes?”

“He’s going to pick up your column in all his papers, starting in January.”

Theresa put her hand to her mouth to stifle her scream, but it was still loud enough that the people at the nearby tables turned their heads. She huddled toward Deanna, talking quickly. Garrett took a small step backward.

“You’re kidding,” Theresa cried, disbelieving.

Deanna shook her head, smiling broadly. “No. I’m telling you what he told me. He wants to talk to you again on Tuesday. I’ve got a conference call set up for ten o’clock.”

“You’re sure about this? He wants my column?”

“Positive. I faxed him your media kit along with a number of your columns, and he called me. He wants you—no doubt about it. It’s something he’s already decided.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it. And I heard through the grapevine that a couple of others are interested as well.”

“Oh . . . Deanna . . .”

Theresa leaned in and impulsively hugged Deanna, excitement animating her face. Brian nudged Garrett with his elbow.

“great news, huh?”

It took a moment for Garrett to answer.

“Yah . . . great.”

*  *  *

After settling in for dinner, Deanna ordered a bottle of champagne and made a toast, congratulating Theresa on her bright future. The two of them chatted nonstop throughout the rest of the evening. Garrett was quiet, not knowing quite what to add. As if sensing his discomfort, Brian leaned over to Garrett.

“They’re like schoolgirls, aren’t they? Deanna was parading around the house all day, just waiting to tell her.”

“I just wish I understood it all a little better. I don’t really know what to say.”

Brian took a drink, shaking his head. His words came out slightly slurred.

“Don’t worry about that—even if you did understand, you probably wouldn’t get a word in edgewise. They talk like this all the time. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were twins in another life.”

Garrett glanced across the table at Theresa and Deanna. “You might be right.”

“Besides,” Brian added, “you’ll understand it better when you live with it full-time. After a while, you’ll understand it almost as well as they do. I know I do.”

The comment was not lost on him. When you live with it full-time?

When Garrett didn’t respond, Brian changed the subject. “So how long are you staying?”

“Until tomorrow night.”

brian nodded. “It’s tough not seeing each other much, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes.”

“I can imagine. I know Theresa gets down about it now and then.”

Across the table, Theresa smiled at Garrett. “What are you two talking about over there?” she asked cheerfully.

“This and that,” Brian said, “your good fortune, mainly.”

Garrett nodded briefly without answering, and Theresa watched as he adjusted himself in his seat. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable—though she wasn’t sure why—and she found herself puzzling over it.

*  *  *

“You were kind of quiet tonight,” Theresa said.

They were back in her apartment, sitting on the couch with the radio playing softly in the background.

“I guess I didn’t have much to say.”

She took his hand and spoke quietly. “I’m glad you were with me when Deanna told me the news.”

“I’m happy for you, Theresa. I know it means a lot to you.”

She smiled uncertainly. Changing the subject, she asked: “Did you have a good time talking to Brian?”

“Yah . . . he’s easy to get along with.” He paused. “But I’m not very good in groups, especially when I’m sort of outside the loop. I just . . .” He stopped, considering whether he should say anything else, and decided not to.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No—what were you going to say?”

After a moment he answered, choosing his words carefully. “I was just going to say that this whole weekend has been strange for me. The show, expensive dinners, going out with your friends . . .” He shrugged. “It isn’t what I expected.”

“Aren’t you having a good time?”

He ran his hands through his hair, looking uncomfortable again. “It’s not that I haven’t had fun. It’s just . . .” He shrugged. “It’s not me. None of this is anything I’d normally do.”

“That’s why I planned the weekend like I did. I wanted to introduce you to new things.”

“Why?”

“For the same reason you wanted me to learn how to dive—because it’s something exciting, something different.”

“I didn’t come up here to do something different. I came up here to spend some quiet time with you. I haven’t seen you for a long time, and ever since we’ve been up here, it seems like we’ve been rushing from place to place. We haven’t even had a chance to talk yet and I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“That’s not true. We were alone at dinner last night, and again at the museum today. We’ve had plenty of time to talk.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. What did you want to do—sit around in the apartment?”