Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [106]
“It must have been quite a shock,” he said, glancing at the pages, surprised that Garrett had never mentioned the letters to him. He paused. “But don’t you think you were a little rough on her?”
Garrett shook his head tiredly. “She knew everything about me, Dad, and she never told me. She set the whole thing up.”
“No, she didn’t,” he said gently. “She may have come down to meet you, but she didn’t make you fall in love with her. You did that on your own.”
Garrett looked away before finally returning his gaze to the picture on the table. “But don’t you think it was wrong of her to hide it from me?”
Jeb sighed, not wanting to answer the question, knowing it would lead Garrett to retread old ground. Instead he tried to think of another way to get through to his son. “A couple of weeks ago, when we were talking on the pier, you told me you wanted to marry Theresa because you loved her. Do you remember that?”
Garrett nodded absently.
“Why has that changed?”
Garrett looked at his father, confused. “I’ve already told you that—”
Jeb gently cut him off before he could finish.
“Yeah, you’ve explained your reasons, but you haven’t been honest about it. Not with me, not with Theresa, not even with yourself. She may not have told you about the letters, and granted, maybe she should have. But that’s not why you’re still angry now. You’re angry because she made you realize something that you didn’t want to admit.”
Garrett looked at his father without responding. Then, rising from the couch, he went to the kitchen, suddenly feeling the urge to escape the conversation. In the refrigerator, he found a pitcher of sweet tea and poured himself a glass. Holding the freezer open, he pulled out the metal tray to crack out a couple of cubes. In a sudden spurt of frustration, he pulled the lever too hard and ice cubes flew over the counter and onto the floor.
As Garrett muttered and cursed in the kitchen, Jeb stared at the picture of Catherine, remembering his own wife from long ago. He put the letters beside it and walked to the sliding glass door. Opening it, he watched as cold December winds from the Atlantic made the waves crash violently, the sounds echoing through the house. Jeb contemplated the ocean, watching it churn and roll until he heard a knock at the door.
He turned, wondering who it could be. Strangely, he realized that in all of his visits here, no one had ever come to the door.
In the kitchen, Garrett apparently hadn’t heard the knock. Jeb went to answer it. Behind him, the wind chimes hanging over the back deck were ringing loudly.
“Coming,” he called out.
When the front door swung open, wind gusted through the living room, scattering the letters to the floor. Jeb, however, didn’t notice. All his attention was focused on the visitor on the porch. He couldn’t help but stare.
Standing before him was a dark-haired young woman he’d never seen before. He paused in the doorway, knowing exactly who she was but finding himself at a loss for words. He moved aside to make room for her.
“C’mon in,” he said quietly.
As she entered, closing the door behind her, the wind abruptly died. She glanced at Jeb, uncomfortable. For a moment, neither spoke.
“You must be Theresa,” Jeb finally said. In the background, Jeb could hear Garrett mumbling to himself as he cleaned up the ice in the kitchen. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She crossed her arms, hesitating. “I know I’m not expected….”
“It’s okay,” Jeb encouraged.
“Is he here?”
Jeb nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Yeah, he’s here. He’s getting something to drink.”
“How is he?”
Jeb shrugged and gave her a slow, wry smile. “You’ll have to talk to him….”
Theresa nodded, suddenly wondering whether coming down was a good idea. She glanced around the room and immediately spied the letters spread around the floor. She also noticed Garrett’s bag sitting by his bedroom door, still