True Believer

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True Believer Page 23

by Nicholas Sparks


  She lowered her gaze, and in the ensuing stillness, he could hear the clock above the fireplace ticking. Her lovely face was clouded with sadness, and he was suddenly gripped by the fear that he might be losing any chance he had with her. Reaching over, he used his finger to turn her cheek toward him.

  "What if I don't think it's a sacrifice?" he said. "What if I tell you that I'd rather be with you than go back to my old life?"

  His finger felt electric against her skin. Trying to ignore the sensation, she held her voice steady.

  "Then I would tell you that I've had a wonderful time in the last couple of days, too. That meeting you has been . . . well, amazing. And that yes, I'd like to think that there was some way to make this work. And that I'm flattered."

  "But you don't want to try to make this work."

  Lexie shook her head. "Jeremy . . . I . . ."

  "It's okay," he said, "I understand."

  "No," she said, "you don't. Because you heard what I said, but you didn't listen. It means that, of course, I'd like it to work between us. You're intelligent and kind and charming . . ." She broke off, hesitating. "Okay, maybe you're a little too forward at times . . ."

  Despite the tension, he couldn't help laughing. She went on, choosing her words carefully.

  "The reason I'm saying this is that the last two days have been incredible, but I have things in my past that left me wounded, too," she said. Quickly and calmly, she told him about Mr. Renaissance. When she finished, she looked almost guilty. "Maybe that's why I'm trying to be practical about this. I'm not saying that you'll disappear like he did, but can you honestly say that we'll feel the same way about each other if we have to travel to spend time together?"

  "Yes," he said, his voice firm. "I can."

  She looked almost sad at his answer. "You can say that now, but what about tomorrow? What about a month from now?"

  Outside, the wind made a whistling sound as it moved around the cottage. Sand blew against the windows, and the curtains swayed as the air forced its way through the old panes.

  Jeremy stared at Lexie, realizing once again that he loved her.

  "Lexie," he said, his mouth going dry. "I . . ."

  Knowing what he was going to say, she raised her hands to stop him. "Please," she said. "Don't. I'm not ready for that yet, okay? For now, let's just enjoy dinner. Can we do that?" She hesitated before gently setting her bottle of beer on the table. "I should probably go check on it and get the linguine going."

  With a sinking feeling, Jeremy watched as she rose from the couch. Pausing in the doorway of the kitchen, she turned around to face him.

  "And just so you know, I think what your ex-wife did was terrible and she's nowhere near as great as you tried to make her out to be. You don't leave your husband for something like that, and the fact that you can say anything kind about her at all says that she's the one who made the mistake. Believe me--I've seen what it takes to be a good parent. Having kids means taking care of them, raising them, loving and supporting them, and none of those things have anything to do with who makes them one night in the bedroom or the experience of being pregnant."

  She turned in the direction of the kitchen, vanishing from sight. He could hear Billie Holiday singing "I'll Be Seeing You" on the radio. With his throat tightening, Jeremy rose to follow her, knowing that if he didn't seize the moment, it might never come again. Lexie, he suddenly understood, was the reason he'd come to Boone Creek; Lexie was the answer he'd been looking for all along.

  He leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, watching as she set another pot on the stove.

  "Thank you for saying what you said," he said.

  "You're welcome," she responded, refusing to meet his eyes. He knew she was trying to remain strong in the face of the same emotions he was experiencing, and he admired both her passion and her reserve. Yet he took a step toward her, knowing he had to take a chance.

  "Will you do me a favor?" he asked. "Since I might not make it tomorrow night," he said, reaching out his hand, "would you mind dancing with me?"

  "Here?" She looked up, startled, her heart racing. "Now?"

  Without another word, he moved closer, taking her hand in his. He smiled as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers before lowering it into position. Then, with his eyes locked on hers, he slipped his other arm around her back and gently pulled her toward him. As his thumb began to gently trace the skin of her hand and he whispered her name, she found herself beginning to follow his lead.

  The melody played softly in the background as they began to rotate in slow circles, and though she felt embarrassed at first, she finally leaned into him, relaxing into the warmth of his body. His breath warmed her neck, and as his hand tenderly skimmed her back, she closed her eyes and leaned further into him, dropping her head onto his shoulder and feeling the last of her resolve slip away. This, she realized, was what she had wanted all along, and in the tiny kitchen, they moved in rhythm to the gentle music, each of them lost in the other.

  Beyond the windows, the waves continued to roll, washing toward the dune. The cold wind whistled around the cottage, vanishing into the ever-blackening evening. Dinner simmered quietly on the stove.

  When at last she lifted her head to meet his eyes, he wrapped his arms around her. He brushed his lips against hers once, and then twice, before pressing them close. After pulling back slightly to make sure she was okay, he kissed her again, and she kissed him back, reveling in the strength of his arms. She felt his tongue against hers, the moisture intoxicating, and brought a hand to his face, tracing the stubble on his cheek. He responded to her touch by kissing her cheek and neck, his tongue hot against her skin.

  They kissed in the kitchen for a long time, both of them savoring the other without hurry or urgency, until Lexie finally pulled back. She turned off the burner behind her, then, taking his hand again, she led him back to her bedroom.

  They made love slowly. As he moved above her, he whispered how much he loved her and breathed her name like a prayer. His hands never stopped moving, as if proving to himself that she was real. They stayed in bed for hours, making love and laughing quietly, savoring each other's touch.

  Hours later, Lexie rose from the bed and slipped into a bathrobe. Jeremy put on his jeans, and joining her in the kitchen, they finished cooking dinner. After Lexie had lit a candle, he stared at her over the small flame, marveling at the lingering flush of her cheeks, as he devoured the most delicious meal he'd ever tasted. For some reason, the act of eating together in the kitchen, him shirtless and her naked beneath the thin robe, seemed almost more intimate than anything else that had happened that night.

  Afterward, they went back to bed, and he pulled her close, content to simply hold her. When Lexie eventually fell asleep in his arms, Jeremy watched her sleep. Every now and then, he brushed the hair from her eyes, reliving the evening, remembering it all, and knowing in his heart that he'd met the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

  Just before dawn, Jeremy woke and realized that Lexie was gone. He sat up in bed, patted the covers as if to make sure, then hopped out of bed and put on his jeans. Her clothes were still on the floor, but the bathrobe she'd worn during dinner was gone. Snapping his jeans, he shivered slightly in the chill and crossed his arms as he made his way down the hall.

  He found her in the easy chair near the fireplace, a cup of milk on the small table beside her. In her lap was Doris's notebook, opened near the beginning, but she wasn't looking at it. Instead, she was gazing out the dark window toward nothing at all.

  He took another step toward her, the floorboards squeaking underfoot, and she started at the sound. When she saw him, she smiled.

  "Hey there," she said.

  In the dim light, Jeremy sensed that something was wrong. He sat on the armrest beside her and slipped his arm around her.

  "Are you okay?" he murmured.

  "Yeah," she said, "I'm okay."

  "What are you doing? It's the
middle of the night."

  "I couldn't sleep," she said. "And besides, we have to be up in a little while to catch the ferry."

  He nodded, though he wasn't completely satisfied by her answer.

  "Are you mad at me?"

  "No," she said.

  "Are you sorry about what happened?"

  "No," she said, "it's not that, either." She didn't, however, add anything else, and Jeremy pulled her closer, trying to believe her.

  "It's an interesting book," he said, not wanting to press her. "I hope to spend a bit of time with it later."

  Lexie smiled. "It's been a while since I've looked through it. Seeing it here brings back memories."

  "How so?"

  She hesitated, then pointed down at the open page in her lap. "When you were reading it earlier, did you get to this entry?"

  "No," he answered.

  "Read it," she said.

  Jeremy read the entry quickly; in many ways, it seemed identical to the others. The first names of the parents, the age, how far along the woman was in her pregnancy. And the fact that the woman would have a girl. When he finished, he looked at her.

  "Does it mean anything to you?" she asked.

  "I'm not sure what you're asking," he admitted.

  "The names Jim and Claire don't mean anything to you?"

  "No." He scrutinized her face. "Should they?"

  Lexie lowered her eyes. "They were my parents," she said, her voice quiet. "This is the entry that predicted I would be a girl."

  Jeremy raised his eyebrows quizzically.

  "That's what I was thinking about," she said. "We think we know each other, but you didn't even know the names of my parents. And I don't know the names of your parents."

  Jeremy felt a knot beginning to form in his stomach. "And that bothers you? That you don't think we know each other that well?"

  "No," she said. "What bothers me is that I don't know if we ever will."

  Then, with a tenderness that made his heart ache, she wrapped her arms around him. For a long time, they sat in the chair holding each other, both of them wishing they could stay in that moment forever.

  Sixteen

  So this is your friend, huh?" Lexie asked.

  She gestured discreetly to the holding cell. Although Lexie had lived in Boone Creek all her life, she'd never had the privilege of visiting the county jail--until today.

  Jeremy nodded. "He's not normally like this," he whispered back.

  Earlier in the morning, they had packed their belongings and closed up the beach cottage, each reluctant to leave it behind. But when they drove off the ferry in Swan Quarter, Jeremy's cell phone picked up enough signal strength to retrieve his messages. Nate had left four of them about the upcoming meeting; Alvin, on the other hand, had left a frantic one saying that he'd been arrested.

  Lexie had dropped Jeremy off at his car, and he'd followed her back to Boone Creek, worried about Alvin, but worried about Lexie as well. Lexie's disconcerting mood, which had started in the predawn darkness, had continued for the next few hours. Though she hadn't pulled away when he slipped his arm around her on the ferry, she'd been quiet, gazing at the waters of the Pamlico Sound. When she smiled, it was only a flicker, and when he took her hand, she didn't squeeze his. Nor would she talk about what she'd said to him earlier; strangely, she spoke instead about the numerous shipwrecks off the coast, and when he did try to steer the conversation toward more serious issues, she either changed the subject or didn't answer at all.

  Meanwhile, Alvin was languishing in the county jail, looking--to Lexie's eyes, at least--like he belonged there. Dressed in a black Metallica T-shirt, leather pants and jacket, and a studded wristband, Alvin was staring at them with wild eyes, his face flushed. "I mean, what the hell kind of a cracker town is this? Does anything normal ever happen here?" He'd been going on in this vein from the moment Lexie and Jeremy arrived, and his knuckles were white as he squeezed the iron bars. "Now, can you please get me out of here?"

  Behind them, Rodney stood scowling, his arms crossed, ignoring Alvin as he had been for the last eight hours. The guy whined way too much, and besides, Rodney was far more interested in Jeremy and Lexie. According to Jed, Jeremy hadn't come back to his room last night, and Lexie hadn't been at home, either. It could have been a coincidence, but he strongly doubted that, which meant they'd most likely spent the night together. Which wasn't good at all.

  "I'm sure we'll figure something out," Jeremy said, not wanting to rile Rodney any further. He'd seemed downright angry when Jeremy and Lexie showed up. "Tell me what happened."

  "What happened?" Alvin repeated, his voice rising. His eyes took on a crazed look. "You want to know what happened? I'll tell you what happened! This whole place is nuts, that's what happened! First, I get lost trying to find this stupid town. I mean, I'm driving down the highway, pass a couple of gas stations, and keep going, right? Since there doesn't seem to be a town? And the next thing you know, I'm lost in the middle of a swamp for hours. I don't find the town until almost nine o'clock. And then you'd think someone could give me directions to Greenleaf, right? I mean, how hard could it be? Small town, the only place to stay? Well, I get lost again! And that's after some guy at the gas station talks my ear off for half an hour--"

  "Tully," Jeremy said, nodding.

  "What?"

  "The guy you talked to."

  "Yeah, whatever . . . so I finally get to Greenleaf, right? And the gigantic hairy guy there isn't exactly friendly and sort of gives me the evil eye, hands me your note, and sticks me in this room with all these dead animals--"

  "All the rooms are like that."

  "Whatever!" Alvin grunted. "And, of course, you're not even around--"

  "Sorry about that."

  "Would you let me finish?" Alvin hollered. "So, okay, I got your note and follow your directions to the cemetery, right? And I get there just in time to see the lights, and it's fantastic, you know. Like for the first time in hours, I'm not pissed, right? So I head down to this place called Lookilu for a nightcap, which seems to be the only place in town open at that hour. And there's only a couple of people in the whole place, so I get to talking to this gal named Rachel. And it's going great. We're really hitting it off, and then this guy walks in, looking like he just swallowed a porcupine . . ." He nodded toward Rodney. Rodney smiled without showing his teeth.

  "So, anyway, a little while later, I go out to my car, and the next thing I know this guy is tapping on my window with his flashlight and asking me to step out of the car. So I ask why, and he tells me again to get out. And then he starts asking me how much I've had to drink and that maybe I shouldn't be driving. So I tell him I'm fine and that I'm here working with you, and the next thing I know I'm locked up for the night! Now, get me out of here!"

  Lexie looked over her shoulder. "Is that what happened, Rodney?"

  Rodney cleared his throat. "To a point. But he forgot the part where he called me a big dumb Barney Fife and said that he'd have me brought up on charges for harassment if I didn't let him go. He seemed so irrational that I thought he might be on drugs or get violent, so I brought him in for his own safety. Oh, and he called me a stupid musclehead, too."

  "You were harassing me! I didn't do anything!"

  "You were drinking and driving."

  "Two beers! I had two beers!" Alvin was looking maniacal again. "Check with the bartender! He'll tell you!"

  "I already did," Rodney said, "and he told me you had seven drinks."

  "He's lying!" Alvin shouted, his eyes swiveling to Jeremy. He looked through the bars, his face panicked between his hands. "I had two drinks! I swear, Jeremy! I would never drive if I had too much. I swear on my mother's Bible!"

  Jeremy and Lexie looked over at Rodney. He shrugged. "I was just doing my job. "

  "Your job! Your job!" Alvin shouted. "Arresting innocent people! This is America and you can't do that here! And this isn't ending! When I get through with you, you won't even be able to work security at Wal
-Mart! Do you hear me, Barney! Wal-Mart!"

  It was clear that the two of them had been going on like this most of the night.

  "Let me talk to Rodney," Lexie finally whispered.

  When she left with the deputy, Alvin fell silent.

  "We'll get you out of here," Jeremy reassured him.

  "I don't belong in here in the first place!"

  "I know that. But you're not helping yourself."

  "He's harassing me!"

  "I know that. But let Lexie handle it. She'll take care of it."

  Out in the hallway, Lexie looked up at Rodney. "What's really going on?" she asked.

  Rodney wouldn't meet her eyes; instead, he continued to look in the direction of the holding cell.

  "Where were you last night?" he asked.

  She crossed her arms. "I was at the cottage at the beach."

  "With him?"

  Lexie hesitated, wondering about the best way to answer. "I didn't go with him, if that's what you're asking."

  Rodney nodded, knowing she hadn't answered completely, but suddenly realizing he didn't want to know any more.

  "Why did you arrest him? Honestly."

  "I wasn't planning to. He brought it on himself."

  "Rodney . . ."

  He turned around, lowering his head to his chest.

  "He was hitting on Rachel, and you know how she can get when she drinks: all flirty and without a speck of common sense. I mean, I know it's none of my business, but someone has to watch out for her." He paused. "Anyway, when he was leaving, I went over to talk to this guy to see if he was planning to head over to her place and what kind of guy he was and he starts insulting me. And I wasn't in the best of moods, anyway . . ."

  Lexie knew the reason for that, and when Rodney trailed off, she said nothing. In time, Rodney shook his head, as if he were still trying to justify it to himself. "But the fact is, he was drinking and planning on driving. And that's illegal."

  "Was he over the legal limit?"

  "I don't know. I never bothered to check."

  "Rodney!" she whispered loudly.

  "He made me angry, Lexie. He's rude and weird-looking and hitting on Rachel and calling me names, then he says he's working with this guy . . ." He motioned with his head toward Jeremy.

  Lexie laid a hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me, okay? You know that you will get in trouble if you keep him in here for no reason. Especially with the mayor. If he finds out what you did to the cameraman--especially after he's gone through all this trouble to make sure the story turns out okay--he'll cause trouble for you." She let that sink in for a moment before going on. "And besides, you and I both know that the sooner you let him out, the sooner the both of them can leave."

 

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