A Bend in the Road

by Nicholas Sparks

  Behind them, a white pickup truck began backing out. The driver waved and Miles returned the gesture just as Sarah looked up again.

  "You know him?"

  "It's a small town. It seems like I know everyone."

  "That must be comforting."

  "Sometimes it is, other times it isn't. If you've got secrets, this isn't the place for you, that's for sure."

  For a moment, Sarah wondered if he was talking about himself. Before she could dwell on it, Miles went on.

  "Hey, I want to thank you again for everything you're doing for Jonah."

  "You don't have to thank me every time you see me."

  "I know. It's just that I've noticed a big change in him these last few weeks."

  "So have I. He's catching up pretty quickly, even faster than I thought he would. He actually started reading aloud in class this week."

  "I'm not surprised. He's got a good teacher."

  To Miles's surprise, Sarah actually blushed. "He's got a good father, too."

  He liked that.

  And he liked the look she'd given him when she'd said it.

  As if uncertain what to do next, Sarah fiddled with her keys. She selected one and unlocked her front door. As she swung the door open, Miles stepped back slightly.

  "So, how much longer do you think he'll need to keep staying after school?" he asked.

  Keep talking. Don't let her leave yet.

  "I'm not sure yet. A while, for sure. Why? Do you want to start cutting back a little?"

  "No," he continued. "I was just curious."

  She nodded, waiting to see if he'd add anything else, but he didn't. "Okay," she finally said. "We'll keep going like we are and see how he's doing in another month. Is that all right?"

  Another month. He'd continue to see her for at least that long. Good.

  "Sounds like a plan," he agreed.

  For a long moment neither of them said anything, and in the silence Sarah glanced at her watch. "Listen, I'm running a little late," she said apologetically, and Miles nodded.

  "I know--you've got to go," he said, not wanting her to leave just yet. He wanted to keep talking. He wanted to learn everything he could about her.

  What you really mean is that it's time to ask her out.

  And no chickening out this time. No hanging up the phone, no putzing around.

  Bite the bullet!

  Be a man!

  Go for it!

  He steeled himself, knowing he was ready... but... but... how should he do it? Good Lord, it had been a long time since he had been in a situation like this. Should he suggest dinner or lunch? Or maybe a movie? Or...? As Sarah started to climb in her car, his mind was sorting and searching frantically, trying to come up with ways to prolong her time with him long enough to figure it out. "Wait--before you go--can I ask you something?" he blurted out.

  "Sure." She looked at him quizzically.

  Miles put his hands in his pockets, feeling those little butterflies, feeling seventeen again. He swallowed.

  "So...," he began. His mind was racing, those little wheels spinning for everything they were worth.

  "Yes?"

  Sarah knew instinctively what was coming.

  Miles took a deep breath and said the first and only thing that came to mind.

  "How's the fan working out?"

  She stared at him, a perplexed expression on her face. "The fan?" she repeated.

  Miles felt as if he'd just swallowed a ton of lead. The fan? What the hell was he thinking? The fan? That was all he could come up with?

  It was as if his brain had suddenly taken a vacation, but for the life of him, he couldn't stop....

  "Yeah. You know ... the fan that I got you for your class."

  "It's fine," she said uncertainly.

  "Because I can get you a new one if you don't like it."

  She reached out to touch his arm, a look of concern on her face. "Are you feeling okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine," he said seriously. "I just wanted to make sure you're happy with it."

  "You picked a good one, okay?"

  "Good," he said, hoping and praying that a bolt of lightning would suddenly shoot from the heavens and kill him on the spot.

  The fan?

  After she pulled out of the parking lot, Miles stood without moving, wishing that he could turn back the clock and undo everything that had just happened. He wanted to find the nearest rock to crawl under, a nice dark spot where he could hide from the world forever. Thank God no one was around to hear it!

  Except for Sarah.

  For the rest of the day, the end of their conversation kept repeating in his head, like a song he'd heard on early morning radio.

  How's the fan working out? ... Because I can get you a new one ... I just want to make sure you're happy with it. . . .

  It was painful, physically painful, to recall it. And no matter what else he did that afternoon, the memory would lurk there under the surface, waiting to emerge and humiliate him. And on the following day, it was the same thing. He woke up with the feeling that something was wrong... something... and boom! There was the memory again, taunting him. He winced and felt the lead in his gut. And then he pulled the pillow over his head.

  Chapter 8

  So how do you like it so far?" Brenda asked.

  It was Monday, and Brenda and Sarah were sitting at the picnic table outside, the same one that Miles and Sarah had visited a month earlier. Brenda had picked up lunch from the Pollock Street Deli, which in Brenda's opinion, made the best sandwiches in town. "It'll give us a chance to visit," she'd said with a wink, before running out to the deli.

  Though this wasn't the first time they'd had the chance to "visit," as Brenda put it, their conversations had usually been relatively short and impersonal: where supplies were stored, whom she needed to talk to to get a couple of new desks, things like that. Of course, Brenda had also been the one whom Sarah had first asked about Jonah and Miles, and because she knew Brenda was close to them, she also understood that this lunch was Brenda's attempt to find out what, if anything, was going on.

  "You mean working at the school? It's different from the classes I had in Baltimore, but I like it."

  "You worked in the inner city, right?"

  "I worked in downtown Baltimore for four years."

  "How was that?"

  Sarah unwrapped her sandwich. "Not as bad as you probably think. Kids are kids, no matter where they're from, especially when they're young. The neighborhood might have been rough, but you kind of get used to it and you learn to be careful. I never had any trouble at all. And the people I worked with were great. It's easy to look at test scores and think the teachers don't care, but that's not the way it is. There were a lot of people I really looked up to."

  "How did you decide to work there? Was your ex-husband a teacher, too?"

  "No," she said simply.

  Brenda saw the pain in Sarah's eyes for a moment, but almost as quickly as she noticed it, it was gone.

  Sarah opened her can of Diet Pepsi. "He's an investment banker. Or was ... I don't know what he does these days. Our divorce wasn't exactly amicable, if you know what I mean."

  "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, "and I'm sorrier I brought it up."

  "Don't be. You didn't know." She paused before forming a lazy smile. "Or did you?" she asked.

  Brenda's eyes widened. "No, I didn't know."

  Sarah looked at her expectantly.

  "Really," Brenda said again.

  "Nothing?"

  Brenda shifted slightly in her seat. "Well, maybe I did hear a couple of things," she admitted sheepishly, and Sarah laughed.

  "I thought so. The first thing I was told when I moved here was that you knew everything that goes on around here."

  "I don't know everything," Brenda said, feigning indignation. "And despite what you may have heard about me, I don't repeat everything I do know. If someone tells me to keep something to myself, I do." She tapped her ear with her finger a
nd lowered her voice. "I know things about people that would make your head spin around like you're in dire need of an exorcism," she said, "but if it's said in confidence, I keep it that way."

  "Are you saying this so I'll trust you?"

  "Of course," she said. She glanced around, then leaned across the table. "Now dish up."

  Sarah grinned and Brenda waved a hand as she went on. "I'm kidding, of course. And in the future--since we do work together--keep in mind that I won't get my feelings hurt if you tell me I've gone too far. Sometimes I blurt out questions without really thinking, but I don't do it to hurt people. I really don't."

  "Fair enough," Sarah said, satisfied.

  Brenda picked up her sandwich. "And since you're new in town and we don't know each other that well, I won't ask anything that might seem too personal."

  "I appreciate that."

  "Besides, it's not really my business anyway."

  "Right."

  Brenda paused before taking a bite. "But if you have any questions about anyone, feel free to ask."

  "Okay," Sarah said easily.

  "I mean, I know how it is to be new in town and feel like you're on the outside looking in."

  "I'm sure you do."

  For a moment, neither of them said anything.

  "So . . ." Brenda drew out the syllable expectantly.

  "So . . ." Sarah said in response, knowing exactly what Brenda wanted.

  Again there was a period of silence.

  "So ... do you have any questions about ... anyone?" Brenda prodded.

  "Mmm . . . ," Sarah said, appearing to think it over. Then, shaking her head, she answered: "Not really."

  "Oh," Brenda said, unable to hide her disappointment.

  Sarah smiled at Brenda's attempt at subtlety.

  "Well, maybe there is one person I'd like to ask you about," she offered.

  Brenda's face lit up. "Now we're talking," she said quickly. "What would you like to know?"

  "Well, I've been wondering about.. ." She paused, trailing off, and Brenda looked at her like a child unwrapping a Christmas gift.

  "Yes?" she whispered, sounding almost desperate.

  "Well . . ." Sarah looked around. "What can you tell me about ... Bob Bostrum?"

  Brenda's jaw dropped. "Bob ... the janitor?"

  Sarah nodded. "He's sort of cute."

  "He's seventy-four years old," Brenda said, thunderstruck.

  "Is he married?" Sarah asked.

  "He's been married for fifty years. He's got nine kids."

  "Oh, that's a shame," Sarah said. Brenda was staring wide-eyed at her, and Sarah shook her head. After a moment, she looked up and met Brenda's gaze with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, I guess that leaves Miles Ryan, then. What can you tell me about him?"

  It took a moment for the words to sink in, and Brenda looked Sarah over carefully. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were teasing me."

  Sarah winked. "You don't have to know me better: I admit it. Teasing people is one of my weaknesses."

  "And you're good at it." Brenda paused for a moment before smiling. "But now, while we're on the subject of Miles Ryan ... I hear that you two have been seeing quite a bit of each other. Not only after school, but on the weekend, too."

  "You know I've been working with Jonah, and he asked me to come out to watch him play soccer."

  "Nothing more than that?"

  When Sarah didn't answer right away, Brenda went on, this time with a knowing look.

  "All right ... about Miles. He lost his wife a couple of years back in a car accident. Hit-and-run. It was the saddest thing I've ever seen. He really loved her, and for a long time afterwards, he just wasn't himself. She was his high school sweetheart." Brenda paused and set her sandwich off to the side. "The driver got away."

  Sarah nodded. She'd heard bits and pieces of this already.

  "It really hit him hard. As a sheriff especially. He took it as his own failure. Not only wasn't there a resolution, but he blamed himself for it. He kind of shut himself off from the world after that."

  Brenda brought her hands together when she saw Sarah's expression.

  "I know it sounds awful, and it was. But lately, he's been a lot more like the person he used to be, like he's coming out of his shell again, and I can't tell you how happy I've been to see that. He's really a wonderful man. He's kind, he's patient, he'll go to the ends of the world for his friends. And best of all, he loves his son." She hesitated.

  "But?" Sarah finally asked.

  Brenda shrugged. "There are no buts, not with him. He's a good guy and I'm not saying that just because I like him. I've known him a long time. He's one of those rare men who, when he loves, he does it with all his heart."

  Sarah nodded. "That's rare," she said seriously.

  "It's true. And try to remember all this if you and Miles ever get close."

  "Why?"

  Brenda looked away. "Because," she said simply, "I'd hate to see him get hurt again."

  Later that day, Sarah found herself thinking about Miles. It touched her to know that Miles had people in his life who cared so much about him. Not family, but friends.

  She'd known that Miles had wanted to ask her out after Jonah's soccer game. The way he'd flirted and kept moving closer made his intention plain.

  But in the end, he hadn't asked.

  At the time, it seemed funny. She'd giggled about it, driving away--but she wasn't laughing at Miles as much as she was laughing at how hard he'd made it seem. He'd tried, God knows he'd tried, but for some reason he couldn't say the words. And now, after talking to Brenda, she thought she understood.

  Miles hadn't asked her out because he hadn't known how. In his entire adult life, he'd probably never had to ask a woman out--his wife had been his high school sweetheart. Sarah didn't think she'd ever known someone like that in Baltimore, someone in his thirties who'd never once asked someone to dinner or to a movie. Oddly, she found it endearing.

  And maybe, she admitted to herself, she found it a little comforting, because she wasn't all that different.

  She'd started going out with Michael when she was twenty-three; they'd divorced when she was twenty-seven. Since then she'd been out only a few times, the last time with a fellow who came on a little too strongly. After that, she told herself that she just wasn't ready. And maybe she wasn't, but spending time with Miles Ryan recently had reminded her that the past couple of years had been lonely ones.

  In the classroom, it was usually easy to avoid such thoughts. Standing in front of the blackboard, she was able to focus completely on the students, those small faces that stared at her with wonder. She'd come to view them as her kids, and she wanted to make sure they had every opportunity for success in the world.

  Today, though, she found herself uncharacteristically distracted, and when the final bell rang she lingered outside, until Jonah finally came up to her. He reached for her hand.

  "Are you okay, Miss Andrews?" he asked.

  "I'm fine," she said absently.

  "You don't look so good."

  She smiled. "Have you been talking to my mother?"

  "Huh?"

  "Never mind. Are you ready to get started?"

  "Do you have any cookies?"

  "Of course."

  "Then let's get going," he said.

  As they walked to the classroom, Sarah noticed that Jonah wouldn't let go of her hand. When she squeezed it, he squeezed back, his small hand completely covered by hers.

  It was almost enough to make her life seem worthwhile.

  Almost.

  When Jonah and Sarah walked out of the school after the tutoring session, Miles was leaning against his car as usual, but this time he barely looked at Sarah as Jonah came running up to give him a hug. After going through their usual routine--trading stories about work and school, and so on--Jonah climbed into the car without being asked. When Sarah approached him, Miles glanced away.

  "Thinking about ways to keep the citizens safe, Of
ficer Ryan? You look like you're trying to save the world," she said easily.

  He shook his head. "No, just a little preoccupied."

  "I can tell."

  Actually, his day hadn't been all that bad. Until having to face Sarah. In the car, he'd been saying little prayers to himself that she'd forgotten about how ridiculous he'd sounded the other day, after the game.

  "How did Jonah do today?" he asked, keeping those thoughts at bay.

  "He had a great day. Tomorrow I'm going to give him a couple of workbooks that really seem to be helping. I'll mark the pages for you."

  "Okay," he said simply. When she smiled at him, he shifted from one foot to the other, thinking how lovely she looked.

  And what she must think of him.

  He forced his hands into his pockets.

  "I had a good time at the game," Sarah said.

  "I'm glad."

  "Jonah asked if I'd come watch him again. Would you mind?"

  "No, not at all," Miles said. "I don't know what time he plays, though. The schedule is on the refrigerator at home."

  She looked at him carefully, wondering why he seemed so distant all of a sudden. "If you'd rather I not go, just say the word."

  "No, it's fine," he said. "If Jonah asked you to go and watch, then by all means, you should. If you want to, of course."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yeah. I'll let you know tomorrow what time the game is." Then, before he could stop himself, he added, "Besides, I'd like you to go, too."

  He hadn't expected to say it. No doubt he'd wanted to say it. But here he was again, blathering away uncontrollably....

  "You would?" she asked.

  Miles swallowed. "Yeah," he said, doing his best not to blow it now. "I would."

  Sarah smiled. Somewhere inside, she felt a twitch of anticipation.

  "Then I'll be there for sure. There's one thing, though ... "

  Oh, no . . .

  "What's that?"

  Sarah met his eyes. "Do you remember when you asked me about the fan?"

  With the word fan, all the feelings he'd had over the weekend rushed back, almost as though he'd been punched in the stomach.

  "Yeah?" he said cautiously.

  "I'm also free on Friday night, if you're still interested."

  It took only a moment for the words to register.

  "I'm interested," he said, breaking into a grin.