The Rescue

by Nicholas Sparks

  "Sure you could. It's easy. All you have to do is wake up early, get the paper, and read it leisurely while drinking tequila shooters."

  Denise giggled.

  "Seriously, do you ever think about having more kids?" Melissa asked.

  "Not too often."

  "Because of Kyle?" They'd talked a little about his problem earlier.

  "No, not just that. But it's not something I can do alone, is it?"

  "But if you were married?"

  After a moment Denise smiled. "Probably."

  Melissa nodded. "Do you think Taylor would be a good dad?"

  "I know he would."

  "So do I," Melissa agreed. "Have you two ever talked about it?"

  "Marriage? No. He hasn't brought it up at all."

  "Mmm," Melissa said. "I'll try to find out what he's thinking, all right?"

  "You don't have to do that," Denise protested, flushing.

  "Oh, I want to. I'm as curious as you are. But don't worry, I'll be subtle. He won't even know what I'm getting at."

  "So, Taylor, are you gonna marry this wonderful girl or what?"

  Denise almost dropped her fork onto her plate. Taylor was in the middle of taking a drink and he inhaled a bit of it, causing him to cough three times as he expelled it from the wrong pipe. He brought his napkin to his face, his eyes watering.

  "Excuse me?"

  The four of them were eating their meal--steaks, green salad, Cheddar cheese potatoes, and garlic bread. They'd been laughing and joking, having a good time, and were halfway done when Melissa dropped her bombshell. Denise felt the blood rush to her cheeks as Melissa went on matter-of-factly.

  "I mean, she's a babe, Taylor. Smart, too. Girls like her don't come along every day."

  Though obviously said in jest, Taylor stiffened slightly.

  "I haven't really thought about it," he said almost defensively, and Melissa leaned forward, patting his arm as she laughed out loud.

  "I don't expect an answer, Taylor--I was kidding. I just wanted to see your expression. Your eyes got big as saucers."

  "That's because I was choking," Taylor answered.

  She leaned toward him. "I'm sorry. But I just couldn't resist. You're easy to pick on. Just like Bozo over here."

  "Are you talking about me, darling?" Mitch broke in, trying to offset Taylor's obvious discomfort.

  "Who else calls you Bozo?"

  "With the exception of you--and my three other wives, of course--no one really."

  "Mmm," she said, "that's good. Otherwise I might get jealous."

  Melissa leaned over and gave her husband a quick kiss on the cheek.

  "Are they always like this?" Denise whispered to Taylor, praying he wouldn't think she'd put Melissa up to the question.

  "Ever since I've known them," Taylor said, but it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

  "Hey, no talking behind our backs," Melissa said. Turning toward Denise, she moved the conversation back to safer ground. "So tell me about Atlanta. I've never been there. . . ."

  Denise took a deep breath as Melissa looked right at her, an almost imperceptible smirk on her face. Her wink was so inconspicuous that neither Mitch nor Taylor caught it.

  And though Melissa and Denise chatted for the next hour, Mitch joining in whenever appropriate, Taylor, Denise noticed, didn't say much at all.

  "I'm gonna get you!" Mitch shouted as he ran through the yard, chasing Jud, who was screaming as well, the high-pitched shrieks alternating between delight and fear.

  "You're almost on base! Run!" Taylor yelled. Jud lowered his head, charging, as Mitch slowed down behind him, the cause lost. Jud reached base, joining the others.

  It was an hour after dinner--the sun had finally set, and Mitch and Taylor were playing tag with the boys in the yard out front. Mitch, his hands on his hips, looked around the yard at the five kids, his chest heaving. They were all within a few feet of each other.

  "You can't get me, Daddy!" Cameron taunted, his thumbs by his ears, fingers wagging.

  "Try to get me, Daddy!" Will added, his voice joining his brother's.

  "Then you've got to get off base," Mitch said, bending over and putting his hands on his knees. Cameron and Will, sensing weakness, suddenly darted in opposite directions.

  "C'mon, Daddy!" Will shouted gleefully.

  "Okay, now you asked for it!" Mitch said, doing his best to rise to the challenge. Mitch began trudging toward Will, heading past Taylor and Kyle, who remained safely on base.

  "Run, Daddy, run!" Will teased, knowing he was agile enough to stay well away from his father.

  Mitch chased one son after the other, veering course as he needed to for the next few minutes. Kyle, who had taken a little while to pick up on the game, finally understood it well enough to run with the other kids, and soon his screams were joining with the others as Mitch made his way around the yard. After one too many near misses, Mitch surged toward Taylor.

  "I need a little break here," Mitch said, the words almost lost in the wheeze of his gasps.

  Taylor darted off to the side, safely out of reach. "Then you gotta catch me, pal."

  Taylor let him suffer for another minute or so, until Mitch looked almost green. He finally ran toward the middle of the yard, slowed down, and allowed Mitch to tag off. Mitch bent over again, trying to catch his breath.

  "They're faster than they look," Mitch said honestly, "and they change directions like jackrabbits."

  "It just seems that way when you're old like you," Taylor replied. "But if you're right, I'll just tag you."

  "If you think I'm leaving base, you're out of your mind. I'm just going to take a seat here for a while."

  "C'mon!" Cameron shouted to Taylor, wanting the game to resume. "You can't catch me!"

  Taylor rubbed his hands together. "All right, here I come!"

  Taylor took a giant step toward the kids, and with a jubilant scream they scattered in different directions. But Kyle's voice, cutting loudly through the darkness, was unmistakable and suddenly made Taylor stop his charge.

  "C'mon, Daddy!" (C'maw, Da-ee!) Kyle shouted. "C'mon, Daddy!"

  Daddy.

  Taylor, frozen for a moment, simply stared in Kyle's direction. Mitch, who'd seen Taylor's reaction, teased: "Is there something you haven't told me, Taylor?"

  Taylor didn't respond.

  "He just called you 'Daddy,' " Mitch added, as if Taylor had missed it.

  But Taylor barely heard what Mitch had said. Lost in thought, the word repeated in Taylor's mind.

  Daddy.

  Though he knew it was simply Kyle mimicking the other children--as if calling out Daddy were part of the game--it nonetheless brought Melissa's statement to mind again.

  So are you going to marry this girl or what?

  "Earth to Taylor . . . come in, big daddy," Mitch said, unable to suppress a grin.

  Taylor finally glanced toward him. "Shut up, Mitch."

  "Sure enough . . . Daddy."

  Taylor finally took a step toward the kids. "I'm not his daddy," he said, almost to himself.

  Though Mitch whispered the next words to himself, Taylor heard them as clearly as he'd heard Kyle's a moment before.

  "Not yet, anyway."

  "Did you guys have fun?" Melissa asked as the children came pounding through the front door, finally tired enough to call it quits for the night.

  "We had a blast. Dad's getting awful slow, though," Cameron offered.

  "I am not," Mitch said defensively as he followed them inside. "I let you get to base."

  "Right, Dad."

  "I put some juice in the living room. Don't spill, okay?" Melissa said as the kids trudged past her. Mitch leaned in to kiss Melissa, but she pulled back. "Not until after you shower. You're filthy."

  "This is what I get for entertaining the kids?"

  "No, that's the response you get when you smell bad."

  Mitch laughed and started toward the patio slider, heading toward the backyard in search of a beer.


  Taylor brought up the rear, Kyle right in front of him. Kyle followed the other kids to the living room as Denise watched him go.

  "How did he do?" Denise asked.

  "Fine," Taylor said simply. "He had fun."

  Denise looked at Taylor carefully. Something was obviously bothering him.

  "Are you okay?"

  Taylor glanced away. "Yeah," he said. "I'm okay."

  Without saying anything else, he followed Mitch outside.

  With the evening finally winding down, Denise volunteered to help Melissa in the kitchen after dinner, putting the leftovers away. The kids were watching a movie in the living room, sprawled all over the floor, while Mitch and Taylor straightened things up on the deck out back.

  Denise was rinsing the silverware before putting it into the dishwasher. From where she was standing she could see the two men outside, and she watched them, her hands unmoving under the water.

  "Penny for your thoughts," Melissa said, startling her.

  Denise shook her head, returning to the task at hand. "I'm not sure a penny will cover it."

  Melissa picked up some empty cups and brought them to the sink. "Listen, I'm sorry if I put you on the spot during dinner."

  "No, I'm not mad about that. You were just having fun. We all were."

  "But you're worried anyway?"

  "I don't know . . . I guess . . ." She glanced at Melissa. "Maybe a little. He's been quiet all night."

  "I wouldn't read too much into that. I know he really cares about you. He lights up whenever he looks your way--even after I teased him."

  She watched as Taylor pushed in the chairs around the table.

  Denise nodded. "I know."

  Despite her answer, she couldn't help but wonder why that suddenly didn't seem to be enough. She sealed the Tupperware bowl with a lid.

  "Did Mitch say anything to you about anything that happened while they were out front with the kids?"

  Melissa looked at her curiously. "No. Why?"

  Denise put the salad in the refrigerator. "Just curious."

  Daddy.

  So are you gonna marry this girl or what?

  As he nursed his beer, the words continued to echo through Taylor's mind.

  "Hey, why so glum?" Mitch asked, filling a plastic garbage bag with the remains from the table.

  Taylor shrugged. "Just preoccupied. That's all."

  "About what?"

  "Just work stuff. I'm just trying to figure out everything I've got to do tomorrow," Taylor answered, telling only the partial truth. "Since I've been spending so much time with Denise, I've let my business slide a little. I've got to get back into it."

  "Haven't you been heading in every day?"

  "Yeah, but I don't always stay all day. You know how it is. You do that long enough and little problems start cropping up."

  "Anything I can do? Check how your orders are coming, things like that?"

  Taylor placed most of his orders through the hardware store.

  "No, not really, but I've got to get it squared away. One thing I've learned is that when things go wrong, they go wrong in a hurry."

  Mitch hesitated as he put a paper cup in the bag, feeling a strange sense of deja vu.

  The last time Taylor had used that expression, he'd been dating Lori.

  Thirty minutes later Taylor and Denise were driving home, Kyle between them, a scene that had been repeated dozens of times. Yet now, for the first time, there was an air of tension in the truck without a reason that could be easily explained by either of them. But it was there, and it had kept them quiet enough that Kyle had already fallen asleep, lulled by the silence.

  For Denise, the sensation was a strange one. She kept thinking about everything that Melissa had told her, her statements rattling through her brain like senseless, ricocheting pinballs. She didn't feel like talking, but then Taylor didn't, either. He'd been strangely distant, and that only intensified her feelings. What was supposed to have been a casual, friendly night out with friends, Denise knew with certainty had become something far more important than that.

  Okay, so Taylor had almost choked when Melissa had asked if marriage was in the plans. That would have surprised anyone, especially the way Melissa had blurted it out, wouldn't it? In the truck she tried to convince herself of that, but the more she thought about it, the more unsure she felt. Three months isn't a long time when a person is young. But they weren't kids. She was pushing thirty, Taylor was six years older than that. They'd already had a chance to grow up, to figure out exactly who they were, to know what they wanted in their lives. If he wasn't as serious about their future together as he seemed to be, then why the full-court press these last couple of months?

  All I know is that one day they seemed to be doing fine and the next thing you knew, it was over. I never did understand why.

  That was also bothering her, wasn't it? If Melissa didn't understand what had happened with Taylor's other relationships, Mitch probably didn't, either. Did that mean that Taylor didn't understand it?

  And if so, was the same thing going to happen to her?

  Denise felt a knot form in her stomach, and she glanced at Taylor uncertainly. From the corner of his eye, Taylor caught her glance and turned to face her, seemingly oblivious of her thoughts. Outside the car window, the trees whistling past were black and clumped together, solidified into a single image.

  "Did you have a good time tonight?"

  "Yeah, I did," Denise answered quietly. "I like your friends."

  "So how did you and Melissa get along?"

  "We got along fine."

  "One thing you've probably already learned is that she'll say the first thing that pops into her head, no matter how ridiculous it is. You just have to ignore her sometimes."

  His comment did nothing for her nerves. Kyle mumbled incoherently as he adjusted himself a little lower in the seat. Denise wondered why the things Taylor hadn't said suddenly seemed more important than the things he had.

  Who are you, Taylor McAden?

  How well do I really know you?

  And where, most important, are we going from here?

  She knew he would answer none of those things. Instead she drew a deep breath, willing herself to keep her voice steady.

  "Taylor . . . why didn't you tell me about your father?" she asked.

  Taylor's eyes widened just a little. "My father?"

  "Melissa told me that he died in a fire."

  She saw his hands tighten on the wheel.

  "How did that come up?" he asked, his tone changing slightly.

  "I don't know. It just did."

  "Was it her idea to bring it up or yours?"

  "Why does that matter? I don't remember how it came up."

  Taylor didn't respond; his eyes were locked on the road ahead. Denise waited before realizing he wasn't going to answer her original question.

  "Did you become a fireman because of your father?"

  Shaking his head, Taylor expelled a sharp breath. "I'd rather not talk about it."

  "Maybe I can help--"

  "You can't," he said, cutting her off, "and besides, it doesn't concern you."

  "It doesn't concern me?" she asked in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I care about you, Taylor, and it hurts me to think that you don't trust me enough to tell me what's wrong."

  "Nothing's wrong," he said. "I just don't like to talk about my father."

  She could have pressed it further but knew it wouldn't get her anywhere.

  Once again silence descended in the truck. This time, however, the silence was tainted with fear. It lasted the rest of the way home.

  After Taylor carried Kyle into his bedroom, he waited in the living room until Denise had changed him into his pajamas. When she came back out, she noticed that Taylor hadn't made himself comfortable. Instead he was standing near the door, as if waiting to say good-bye.

  "You're not going to stay?" she asked, surprised.

  He shook his head. "No, I
really can't. I've got to get to work early tomorrow."

  Though he said it without a trace of bitterness or anger, his words didn't dispel her unease. He began to jingle his keys, and Denise walked across the living room to be closer to him.

  "You sure?"

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  She reached for his hand. "Is something bothering you?"

  Taylor shook his head. "No, not at all."

  She waited to see if he would add anything else, but he didn't go any further.

  "All right. See you tomorrow?"

  Taylor cleared his throat before answering. "I'll try, but I've got a pretty full schedule tomorrow. I don't know if I'll be able to swing by."

  Denise studied him carefully, wondering.

  "Even for lunch?"

  "I'll do my best," he said, "but I can't make any promises."

  Their eyes met only briefly before Taylor glanced away.

  "Will you be able to take me into work tomorrow night?"

  For a brief, flickering instant, it almost seemed to Denise as if he hadn't wanted her to ask.

  Her imagination?

  "Yeah, sure," he finally said. "I'll take you in."

  He left after kissing her only briefly, then walked to his truck without turning around.

  Chapter 22

  Early the next morning, while Denise was drinking a cup of coffee, the phone rang. Kyle was sprawled on the living room floor, coloring as best he could but finding it impossible to stay in the lines. When she answered it, she recognized Taylor's voice instantly.

  "Oh, hey, I'm glad you're up," he said.

  "I'm always up this early," she said, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over her at the sound of his voice. "I missed you last night."

  "I missed you, too," Taylor said. "I probably should have stayed. I didn't sleep too well."

  "Neither did I," she admitted. "I kept waking up because I had all the covers for once."

  "I don't hog the sheets. You must be thinking of someone else."

  "Like who?"

  "Maybe one of those men at the diner."

  "I don't think so." She chuckled. "Hey, are you calling because you've changed your mind about lunch?"

  "No, I can't. Not today. I'll be by after I finish up to bring you into work, though."

  "How about an early supper?"

  "No, I don't think I'll be able to make that, either, but thanks for the offer. I've got a load of drywall coming in late, and I don't think I'd be able to make it over in time."

  She turned in place, the phone cord going taut against her.

  They make deliveries after five?

  She didn't say that, however. Instead she said brightly:

  "Oh, all right. I'll see you this evening."