Safe Haven

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Safe Haven Page 8

by Nicholas Sparks


  Though she resisted the idea, she had to admit he intrigued her. Not because of the things he'd done for her, as touching as that was. It had more to do with the sad way he smiled sometimes, the expression on his face when he'd told her about his wife, or the way he treated his kids. There was a loneliness within him that he couldn't disguise, and she knew that in some way it matched her own.

  She knew he was interested in her. She'd been around long enough to recognize when men found her attractive; the clerk at the grocery store talking too much or a stranger glancing her way, or a waiter at a restaurant checking on their table just a bit too frequently. In time, she'd learned to pretend she was oblivious to the attention of those men; in other instances, she showed obvious disdain, because she'd known what would happen if she didn't. Later. Once they got home. Once they were alone.

  But that life was gone now, she reminded herself. Opening the drawers, she pulled out a pair of shorts and the sandals she'd picked up at Anna Jean's. The night before, she'd had wine with a friend, and now she was going to the beach with Alex and his family. These were ordinary events in an ordinary life. The concept felt alien, like she was learning the customs of a foreign land, and it left her feeling strangely elated and wary at exactly the same time.

  As soon as she finished dressing, she saw Alex's jeep coming up the gravel road and she drew a long breath as he pulled to a stop in front of her house. Now or never, she thought to herself as she stepped out onto the porch.

  "You need to put on your seat belt, Miss Katie," Kristen said from behind her. "My dad won't drive unless you're wearing it."

  Alex looked over at her, as if to say, Are you ready for this? She gave him her bravest smile.

  "Okay," he said, "let's go."

  They reached the coastal town of Long Beach, complete with saltbox houses and expansive views of the sea, in less than an hour. Alex pulled into a small parking lot nestled against the dunes; saw grass billowed nearby in the stiff sea breeze. Katie got out of the car and stared at the ocean, breathing deeply.

  The kids climbed out and immediately made for the path between the dunes.

  "I'm going to check the water, Dad!" Josh shouted, holding up his mask and snorkel.

  "Me, too!" Kristen added, trailing behind.

  Alex was busy unloading the back of the jeep. "Hold up," he called out. "Just wait, okay?"

  Josh sighed, his impatience obvious as he shifted from one foot to the other. Alex began pulling out the cooler.

  "Do you need some help?" Katie asked.

  He shook his head. "I can handle this. But would you mind putting some sunscreen on the kids and keeping an eye on them for a few minutes? I know they're excited to be here."

  "That's fine," she said, turning to Kristen and Josh. "Are you two ready?"

  Alex spent the next few minutes ferrying the items from the car, setting up camp near the picnic table closest to the dune, where high tide wouldn't encroach. Though there were a few other families, for the most part they had this section of beach to themselves. Katie had slipped off her sandals and was standing at the water's edge as the kids splashed in the shallows. Her arms were crossed and even from a distance, Alex noticed a rare expression of contentment on her face.

  He slung a couple of towels over his shoulder as he approached. "It's hard to believe there was a storm yesterday, isn't it?"

  She turned at the sound of his voice. "I forgot how much I missed the ocean."

  "Been awhile?"

  "Too long," she said, listening to the steady rhythm of the waves as they gently rolled ashore.

  Josh ran in and out of the waves, while off to the side Kristen crouched, searching for collectible seashells.

  "It must be hard sometimes, raising them on your own," Katie observed.

  Alex hesitated, considering it. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "Most of the time, it isn't so bad. We kind of get into a rhythm, you know? In our daily lives? It's when we do things like this--where there is no rhythm--that it sometimes gets frustrating." He kicked briefly at the sand, making a small furrow at their feet. "When my wife and I talked about having a third child, she tried to warn me that a third child would mean moving from 'man-to-man' to 'zone' defense. She used to joke that she wasn't sure I was up to it. But here I am, in zone defense every day..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

  "Said what?"

  "It seems like every time I talk to you, I end up talking about my wife."

  For the first time, she turned to him. "Why shouldn't you talk about your wife?"

  He pushed a pile of sand back and forth, smoothing over the ditch he'd just made. "Because I don't want you to think that I can't talk about anything else. That all I do is live in the past."

  "You loved her very much, didn't you?"

  "Yes," he answered.

  "And she was a major part of your life and the mother of your kids, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Then it's okay to talk about her," she said. "You should talk about her. She's part of who you are."

  Alex flashed a grateful smile but couldn't think of anything to say. Katie seemed to read his mind, and when she spoke, her voice was gentle. "How did the two of you meet?"

  "We met in a bar, of all places. She was out with some girlfriends celebrating someone's birthday. It was hot and crowded and the lights were low and the music was loud, and she just... stood out. I mean, all her friends were a little out of control and it was obvious that all of them were having a good time, but she was as cool as can be."

  "I'll bet she was beautiful, too."

  "That goes without saying," he said. "So, swallowing my nervousness, I wandered over and proceeded to use every ounce of charm I had at my disposal."

  When he paused, he noticed the smile playing at the corners of her lips.

  "And?" she asked.

  "And it still took me three hours to get so much as a name and phone number from her."

  She laughed. "And let me guess. You called the next day, right? And asked her out?"

  "How would you know that?"

  "You seem like the type."

  "Spoken like someone who's been hit on more than a few times."

  She shrugged, leaving it open to interpretation. "Then what?"

  "Why do you want to hear this?"

  "I don't know," she admitted. "But I do."

  He studied her. "Fair enough," he finally said. "So anyway--as you already magically knew--I asked her out to lunch and we spent the rest of the afternoon talking. That weekend, I told her that the two of us would get married one day."

  "You're kidding."

  "I know it sounds crazy. Believe me, she thought it was crazy, too. But I just... knew. She was smart and kind and we had a lot in common and we wanted the same things in life. She laughed a lot and she made me laugh, too... honestly, of the two of us, I was the lucky one."

  Rollers continued to ride the ocean breeze, pushing over her ankles. "She probably thought she was lucky, too."

  "That's only because I was able to fool her."

  "I doubt that."

  "That's because I'm able to fool you, too."

  She laughed. "I don't think so."

  "You're just saying that because we're friends."

  "You think we're friends?"

  "Yeah," he said, holding her gaze. "Don't you?"

  He could tell by her expression that the idea surprised her, but before she could answer, Kristen came splashing toward them, holding a fistful of seashells.

  "Miss Katie!" she cried. "I found some really pretty ones!"

  Katie bent lower. "Can you show me?"

  Kristen held them out, dumping them into Katie's hand before turning toward Alex. "Hey, Daddy?" she asked. "Can we get the barbecue started? I'm really hungry."

  "Sure, sweetie." He took a few steps down the beach, watching his son diving in and out of the waves. As Josh popped back up, Alex cupped his mouth. "Hey, Josh?" he shouted. "I'm going to start the coal
s, so why don't you come in for a while."

  "Now?" Josh shouted back.

  "Just for a little while."

  Even from a distance, he saw his son's shoulders droop. Katie must have noticed it as well, because she was quick to speak up.

  "I can stay down here if you want," she assured him.

  "You sure?"

  "Kristen's showing me her seashells," she said.

  He nodded and turned back to Josh. "Miss Katie's going to watch you, okay? So don't go out too far!"

  "I won't!" he said, grinning.

  10

  A little while later, Katie led a shivering Kristen and excited Josh back toward the blanket Alex had spread out earlier. The grill had been set up and the briquettes were already glowing white on the edges.

  Alex unfolded the last of the beach chairs onto the blanket and watched them approach. "How was the water, guys?"

  "Awesome!" Josh answered. His hair, partially dried, was pointing in every direction. "When's lunch?"

  Alex checked the coals. "Give me about twenty minutes."

  "Can me and Kristen go back to the water?"

  "You just got out of the water. Why don't you take a break for a few minutes?"

  "We don't want to swim. We want to build sand castles," he said.

  Alex noted Kristen's chattering teeth. "Are you sure you want to do that? You're purple."

  Kristen nodded vehemently. "I'm okay," she said shivering. "And we're supposed to build castles at the beach."

  "All right. But let's throw shirts on you two. And stay right there where I can see you," he said, pointing.

  "I know, Dad." Josh sighed. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

  Alex rummaged through a duffel bag and helped both Josh and Kristen put their shirts on. When he was finished, Josh grabbed a bag full of plastic toys and shovels and ran off, stopping a few feet from the water's edge. Kristen trailed behind him.

  "Do you want me to head down there?" Katie asked.

  He shook his head. "No, they'll be okay. This is the part they're used to. When I'm cooking, I mean. They know to stay out of the water."

  Moving to the cooler, he squatted down and opened the lid. "Are you getting hungry, too?" he asked.

  "A little," she said before realizing that she hadn't eaten anything since the cheese and wine she'd had the evening before. On cue, she heard her stomach growl and she crossed her arms over it.

  "Good, because I'm starved." As Alex began rummaging through the cooler, Katie noticed the sinewy muscles of his forearm. "I was thinking hot dogs for Josh, a cheeseburger for Kristen, and for you and me, steaks." He pulled out the meat and set it aside, then leaned over the grill, blowing on the coals.

  "Can I help with anything?"

  "Would you mind putting the tablecloth on the table? It's in the cooler."

  "Sure," Katie said. She pulled one of the bags of ice out of the cooler and simply stared. "There's enough food for half a dozen families in here," she said.

  "Yeah, well, with kids, my motto has always been bring too much rather than not enough, since I never know exactly what they'll eat. You can't imagine how many times we've come out here and I've forgotten something and have had to load the kids back up and run to the store. I wanted to avoid that today."

  She unfolded the plastic tablecloth and, at Alex's direction, secured the corners with paperweights he had somehow thought to bring.

  "What next? Do you want me to put everything else on the table?"

  "We've got a few minutes. And I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a beer," he said. Reaching into the cooler, he pulled out a bottle. "You?"

  "I'll take a soda," she said.

  "Diet Coke?" he asked, reaching back in.

  "Great."

  When he passed the can to her, his hand brushed against hers, though she wasn't sure he even noticed.

  He motioned to the chairs. "Would you like to sit?"

  She hesitated before taking a seat next to him. When he'd set them up, he'd left enough distance between them so that they wouldn't accidentally touch. Alex twisted the cap from his beer and took a pull. "There's nothing better than a cold beer on a hot day at the beach."

  She smiled, slightly disconcerted at being alone with him. "I'll take your word for it."

  "You don't like beer?"

  Her mind flashed to her father and the empty cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon that usually littered the floor next to the recliner where he sat. "Not too much," she admitted.

  "Just wine, huh?"

  It took her a moment to remember that he'd given her a bottle. "I had some wine last night, as a matter of fact. With my neighbor."

  "Yeah? Good for you."

  She searched for a safe topic. "You said you were from Spokane?"

  He stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "Born and raised. I lived in the same house until I went to college." He cast a sidelong glance at her. "University of Washington, by the way. Go, Huskies."

  She smiled. "Do your parents still live there?"

  "Yes."

  "That must make it hard for them to visit the grandkids."

  "I suppose."

  Something in his tone caught her attention. "You suppose?"

  "They're not the kind of grandparents who would come by, even if they were closer. They've seen the kids only twice, once when Kristen was born and the second time at the funeral." He shook his head. "Don't ask me to explain it," he went on, "but my parents have no interest in them, aside from sending them cards on their birthdays and gifts at Christmas. They'd rather travel or do whatever it is they do."

  "Huh?"

  "What can I do? And besides, I can't say they were all that different with me, even though I was their youngest child. The first time they visited me in college was graduation day, and even though I swam well enough to get a full scholarship, they saw me race only twice. Even if I lived across the street from them, I doubt they'd want to see the kids. That's one of the reasons I stayed here. I might as well, right?"

  "What about the other set of grandparents?"

  He scratched at the label on his bottle of beer. "That's trickier. They had two other daughters who moved to Florida, and after they sold me the store, they moved down there. They come up once or twice a year to visit for a few days, but it's still hard for them. And they won't stay at the house, either, because I think it reminds them of Carly. Too many memories."

  "In other words, you're pretty much on your own."

  "It's just the opposite," he said, nodding toward the kids. "I have them, remember?"

  "It has to be hard sometimes, though. Running the store, raising your kids."

  "It's not so bad. As long as I'm up by six in the morning and don't go to bed until midnight, it's easy to keep up."

  She laughed easily. "Do you think the coals are getting close?"

  "Let me check," he said. After setting the bottle in the sand, he stood up from his chair and walked over to the grill. The briquettes were white and heat rose in shimmering waves. "Your timing is impeccable," he said. He threw the steaks and the hamburger patty on the grill while Katie went to the cooler and started bringing the endless array of items to the table: Tupperware containers of potato salad, coleslaw, pickles, a green bean salad, sliced fruit, two bags of chips, slices of cheese, and assorted condiments.

  She shook her head as she started arranging everything, thinking that Alex somehow forgot that his kids were still little. There was more food here than she'd kept in her house the entire time she'd lived in Southport.

  Alex flipped the steaks and the hamburger patty and then added the hot dogs to the grill. As he did, he found his gaze drifting to Katie's legs as she moved around the table, noting again how attractive she was.

  She seemed to realize he was staring. "What?" she asked.

  "Nothing," he said.

  "You were thinking about something."

  He sighed. "I'm glad you decided to come today," he finally said. "Because I'm having a gr
eat time."

  As Alex hovered over the grill, they settled into easy conversation. Alex gave her an overview of what it was like to run a country store. He told her how his in-laws had started the business and described with affection some of the regulars, people who could best be described as eccentric, and Katie silently wondered whether she would have been included in that description had he brought someone else to the beach.

  Not that it would have mattered. The more he talked, the more she realized that he was the kind of man who tried to find the best in people, the kind of man who didn't like to complain. She tried and failed to imagine what he'd been like when he was younger, and gradually she steered the conversation in that direction. He talked about growing up in Spokane and the long, lazy weekends he spent riding bikes along the Centennial Trail with friends; he told her that once he discovered swimming, it quickly became an obsession. He swam four or five hours a day and had Olympic dreams, but a torn rotator cuff in his sophomore year of college put an end to those. He told her about the fraternity parties he'd attended and the friends he'd made in college, and admitted that nearly all of those friendships had slowly but surely drifted away. As he talked, Katie noticed that he didn't seem to either embellish or downplay his past, nor did he appear to be overly preoccupied with what others thought of him.

  She could see the traces of the elite athlete he once had been, noting the graceful, fluid way he moved and the easy way he smiled, as if long accustomed to both victory and defeat. When he paused, she worried that he would ask about her past, but he seemed to sense that it would make her uncomfortable and would instead launch into another story.

  When the food was ready, he called the kids and they came running. They were covered in sand, and Alex had them stand to the side while he brushed them off. Watching him, she knew he was a better father than he gave himself credit for; good, she suspected, in all the ways that mattered.

  Once the kids got to the table, the conversation shifted. She listened as they chattered on about their sand castle and one of the shows on the Disney Channel they both enjoyed. When they wondered aloud about the s'mores they were supposed to have later--marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers, warmed until melting--it was clear that Alex had created special, fun traditions for his kids. He was different, she thought, from the men she'd met in her past, different from anyone she'd met before, and as the conversation rambled on, any vestiges of the nervousness she'd once felt began to slip away.

 

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