The Return

by Nicholas Sparks

  She took a sip of wine before going on. “He stayed in the hospital for another month, but after that, it was pretty clear he was in a vegetative state. We eventually found a really good place for him—where we just were—and he’s been there ever since.”

  “That’s terrible,” I said, grasping for words. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been—must still be.”

  “It was worse last year,” she said. “Because I still had hope. But these days, I don’t have a lot of hope.”

  With my stomach in knots, I couldn’t fathom taking a drink. “Was he the one you met in college?”

  She nodded. “Just such a sweet guy. He was shy and handsome, but wasn’t arrogant in the slightest, which surprised me, especially considering how wealthy his family is. They own one of the car dealerships here in town, and two or three others in other parts of the state. Anyway, he was on the lacrosse team, and I used to watch him play. He wasn’t quite good enough for a scholarship, but he was a recruited walk-on and played in almost every game his last two years. He could run like a gazelle and score from almost anywhere.”

  “Was it love at first sight?”

  “Not quite. We actually met at a formal. I was there with another guy, he had a date, and after his date ditched him and my date had wandered off, we started talking. I must have given him my number because he started texting me. Nothing weird, nothing stalker-like…after a month or so, we met for pizza. We dated the last two and a half years of college, got engaged a year after we graduated, and we married a year after that.”

  “And you were happy together?”

  “We were both happy,” she said. “You would have liked him. He was such a genuine person, so loving and energetic.” She caught herself. “I’m sorry. Is a genuine person.” She took another sip of wine before looking at my glass. “You’re not having any?”

  “In a minute,” I said. “I’m still processing.”

  “I guess I owe you an apology. For not telling you straightaway.”

  “Even if you had, I’m not sure it would have stopped me from going to the farmers’ market or inviting you over to see the bees.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess. But…you should be aware that it’s not a secret. A lot of people in town know the situation. Mark grew up in New Bern; his family is well-known here. Had you asked around, it wouldn’t have taken you long to find out.”

  “It never occurred to me to ask anyone about you. Honestly, I don’t know enough people in town well enough to ask. But I am curious as to why you don’t wear a wedding ring.”

  “I do,” she said. “I wear it around my neck.”

  When she pulled out her chain, I saw a lovely rose gold wedding band that looked like something from Cartier.

  “Why not on your finger?”

  “I never wore rings growing up and when I was in college, I began working out at the gym. Nothing too strenuous, but I do try to do sets on a few of the machines. After I got engaged, the ring would pinch and I was afraid to scratch it. I just got into the habit of wearing it around my neck. Once I became a sheriff’s deputy, I didn’t want people knowing anything about me.”

  “Didn’t that bother Mark?”

  “Not at all. He wasn’t the jealous type. I used to tell him that the ring was closer to my heart. I meant that and he knew it.”

  I took a small sip of water, moistening my tight throat. Humoring her, I chased that with a swallow of wine, which tasted way too sour. “What do your mom and dad think?”

  “They adored Mark. But they’re my parents. I told you they worry about me.”

  Because of her job in law enforcement, I remembered thinking at the time. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “It seems like they take good care of him here.”

  “It’s a top-notch facility for those who can afford it. Insurance only covers so much, but his parents make up the difference. It’s important to them. It’s important to me, too.”

  “What happens…”

  When I didn’t finish, she nodded. “What happens if we decide to pull the plug? I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “Ever?”

  “It’s not my decision. It’s up to his parents.”

  “But you’re his wife.”

  “They have medical power of attorney. They make those decisions, not me. When he turned eighteen, Mark got access to a trust. He had to sign all sorts of documents, including the ones that gave them the right to make end-of-life decisions for him. I doubt he even thought about it afterward and after we were married, it never came up. Before the marriage, he was way more upset that his parents insisted on a prenup. He didn’t have a choice and I really didn’t care. I thought we’d be married forever and have kids and grow old together.”

  “Have you spoken to his parents about Mark’s future?”

  “Once or twice, but it didn’t go well. His mom is very religious and to her, ending the feeding tube is the same thing as murder. The last time I tried to talk to her about it, she told me that the week before, Mark had opened his eyes and stared at her, and she read that as a sign he’s getting better. She’s convinced that if she prays enough, Mark will just suddenly blink and be back to normal one day. As for his dad, I think he just wants to keep peace in his own house.”

  “So you’re left in a kind of limbo.”

  “For now,” she agreed.

  “You could get a divorce.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because even if there’s less than a one percent chance that Mark will get better, it’s a chance I’m willing to take. I made a vow to stay married in sickness and in health. Health is the easy part; it’s remaining faithful in sickness where love really shines.”

  Perhaps she was right, but I wondered if it smacked a little of martyrdom. Then again, who was I to judge?

  “I understand,” I said.

  “I also want to apologize about the night at your house. After the boat ride and dinner—”

  I held up my hand to stop her.

  “Natalie…”

  “Please,” she said. “I need to explain. While we were at dinner, I sensed that we were going to sleep together, and then when we kissed, I knew it for certain. And I wanted to. Because I really had fallen in love with you, and at that moment, it felt like it was just the two of us in the world. It was easy for me to pretend that I wasn’t married, or that my husband wasn’t being taken care of around the clock by nurses, or even that I could have the best of both worlds. I could stay married and still have you. I could move to Baltimore and get a job there while you did your residency and we’d start a new life together. I was fantasizing about all those things, even as we moved to the bedroom…”

  When she paused, memories flooded my senses. I remembered pulling her close and the tautness of her body against my own. The wildflower scent of her perfume, light and exotic, as I buried my face in her neck. I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest and her fingers clutching my back. When our lips came together, the flicker of her tongue triggered a wave of pleasure.

  I helped her untuck my shirt and watched her unbutton it; within a moment, we both had our shirts off and our heated skin came together. And yet, when I began to kiss the tops of her breasts, I heard what sounded like a muffled sob. Pulling back, she seemed frozen except for a tear drifting down her cheek. Alarmed, I pulled back.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t. Please forgive me.”

  * * *

  Now, as I sat across from her in the bar, I watched as she swallowed, her gaze fixed on the tabletop.

  “That night…you kissed me right below my collarbone. That was a thing Mark always used to do, and I suddenly saw him in my mind—lying in bed, surrounded by tubes in that sterile room. And I couldn’t get his image out of my head and I hated myself for that. For doing that to you. I wanted you and I wanted to make love to you, but I couldn’t. It felt…wrong, somehow
. Like I was about to do something I would regret, even though I wanted it more than anything in the world.” She drew a long breath. “I just wanted to tell you again that I was sorry.”

  “I told you that night that you didn’t have to apologize.”

  “I know you did, and somehow, that made me feel even worse. Because you were so kind about the whole thing.”

  Gently, I laid my hand over hers. “For what it’s worth, I’d do it all over again.”

  “You fell in love with a dishonest woman.”

  “You weren’t dishonest,” I offered. “You just…omitted some things. We all do that. For instance, I didn’t tell you that in addition to being rich and handsome, I’m very skilled when it comes to putting tarps on roofs as well.”

  For the first time since we’d arrived, she cracked a smile. She gave my hand a quick squeeze before withdrawing her own.

  Lifting her glass of wine, she held it up in toast. “You’re a good man, Trevor Benson.”

  I knew it was yet another ending for us, but I reached for my glass of wine anyway. Tapping it against hers, I forced myself to smile.

  “I think,” I answered, “you’re pretty great, too.”

  Chapter 19

  Natalie dropped me off and though I didn’t sleep well, I felt all right in the morning. No trembling in my hands and my mood was steady enough for me to feel confident with a third cup of coffee after my run. Though I’d offered to pick her up on the way to the airport, she thought it better to meet me there.

  No doubt because she didn’t want people to see us arrive together or be seen jetting off as a couple.

  I arrived at the airport before she did and checked in. Natalie arrived ten minutes after that while I was in line for security. Once I reached the gate, I took a seat and though there was a spot next to me, she chose a seat three rows away. It wasn’t until we were on the plane that we finally had the chance to speak.

  “Hi,” I said as she squeezed past me to the window seat, “I’m Trevor Benson.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  I thought we’d visit a bit, but she closed her eyes while tucking up her legs and promptly went to sleep. I wondered how many people she recognized on the plane.

  The flight was slightly more than an hour, and after exiting the plane, we made our way to the rental counter. I’d requested my usual SUV and it was ready when we arrived. Not long after that, we were on our way to Helen.

  “Seems like you had a good nap on the plane,” I observed.

  “I was tired,” she said. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I did, however, have a chance yesterday to speak with the police again, as well as the sheriff. Before I picked you up, I mean.”

  “And?”

  “Like the police, the sheriff didn’t have any information on a runaway named Callie. I don’t know how much help they’ll be.”

  “I still have confidence that we’ll get to the bottom of this,” I said.

  “I also wanted to explain about earlier,” she said. “At the airport.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I was able to figure out your reasons for avoiding me.”

  “No hard feelings?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “You still have to live in New Bern.”

  “And you’re leaving soon.”

  “My new life awaits.”

  I could feel her eyes on me as I said it, and wondered whether she would tell me that she was going to miss me. But she didn’t. Nor did I tell her that I would miss her. We both already knew that. Instead, we didn’t speak much the rest of the way, both of us content to ride in silence, alone with our thoughts, wherever they would lead us.

  * * *

  Natalie was right; Helen was a very small town but remarkably scenic and beautiful in a way I hadn’t expected. It looked as though it had taken its inspiration from alpine villages in Bavaria; the buildings were sandwiched together, with red-tiled roofs and painted a variety of colors, some featuring decorative trim and even the occasional turret. I imagined it was popular with tourists in search of hiking or zip-lining adventures, or tubing on the Chattahoochee River before retiring for the night in a setting that felt exotic for northeastern Georgia.

  Since neither of us had eaten, we had lunch at a small sandwich shop downtown. We discussed our game plan, which didn’t consist of much other than stops at the police station and sheriff’s office. I’d been hoping that I’d come up with a better idea than the one Natalie had quizzed me about—knocking on doors or talking to people on street corners—but so far, I had nothing. I wished I had had the foresight to snap a photograph of Callie in the hospital to see if her face would jog anyone’s memory, but I doubted whether she would have consented to it if I’d tried.

  Our first stop was the police station, quartered in a building that looked more like a house than a municipal office complex and that blended well into the community. The chief, Harvey Robertson, who’d been expecting us, met us out front. He was tall and thin with white receding hair and spoke with a thick Georgia accent. He led us inside, seating us in his office. After introductions, he handed over a manila envelope.

  “As I mentioned on the phone, these are the only three runaways that I know about with any certainty,” he explained. “One from last year, and two of them from two years ago.”

  I opened the manila envelope and pulled out three flyers with the word MISSING emblazoned across the top, bearing photos of the girls, descriptions, and information as to their last known whereabouts. They looked handmade—like something the families had put together—not official police bulletins. A quick scan of the pictures confirmed that none of them was Callie.

  “How about missing persons in general?”

  “Again, there’s no one named Callie. Now, if the family or other acquaintances didn’t report her missing for whatever reason, we’d have no way of knowing. But because it’s a small community, I think I have a pretty good handle on who’s around and who’s not.”

  “I know it’s not my business, but do you have any idea what happened to these other girls?”

  “Two of them had boyfriends and we can’t find them, either, so my hunch is that they ran off together. As to the third young lady, we have no idea what happened to her. She wasn’t a minor and she was reported missing by her landlord, but for all we know, she could have moved away.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “You said on the phone that this girl Callie you’re looking for…she’s sick? And that you need to find her family?”

  “If we can.”

  “Why did you think you might find her here?”

  I told him the whole story, watching as he seemed to soak in every word. I had the sense that he was the kind of person who could surprise you with his intuition.

  “That’s not much to go on,” he commented when I was finished.

  “That’s what Natalie said, too.”

  He looked to her then back to me again. “She’s a smart one. You should think about keeping her.”

  If only, I thought.

  If only I could.

  * * *

  The sheriff’s department was in Cleveland, Georgia, about twenty minutes from Helen. It was a much more imposing building than the police department in Helen, which made sense since it was responsible for a larger geographic area. We were ushered into the office of a deputy sheriff, who had likewise compiled the information we’d requested.

  In total, nine people were missing, which included the three from Helen. Of the remaining six, two were males. Of the remaining four, only three were Caucasian, and only one was a girl in her teens, though it wasn’t Callie.

  On our way out, Natalie turned to me. “Now what?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m missing something. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s there.”

  “Do you still think she’s from around here?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But the answer is here som
ehow.”

  We climbed into our rental before Natalie spoke again. “I have an idea,” she finally offered.

  “What’s that?”

  “If Callie is from here, she probably went to school, right? And you think she might be sixteen? Or seventeen?”

  “That would be my guess.”

  “High schools have yearbooks. Some middle schools do, too. I have no idea how many high schools there are in the county, but there can’t be that many and I’d bet that none of them are very big. Assuming there are yearbooks in the school libraries, maybe we could find a name.”

  I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it. “That’s brilliant.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. “It’ll be after five before we get back to Helen, so it’s probably too late to start today. So first thing tomorrow?”

  “Sounds like a plan. How did you think of that?”

  “I don’t know. It just came to me.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Aren’t you glad I’m here?”

  Yes, I thought, absolutely. But perhaps not for the reason you meant.

  * * *

  Back in Helen, we checked into our hotel. As I spoke to the clerk at the front desk, I sensed Natalie’s relief at the fact I’d reserved two rooms, even if they were adjacent. The clerk handed us magnetic key cards and we headed for the elevators.

  Though sunset was still more than an hour away, I was tired. As much as I’d enjoyed spending time with Natalie, it was a strain to keep things entirely professional and pretend I wasn’t in love with her. I told myself to simply accept what she was offering, without expectation—but some things are easier in theory than in reality.