Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [11]
After putting on a little makeup, she dressed in beige shorts, a sleeveless white blouse, and brown sandals. It would be hot and humid in another hour, and she wanted to be comfortable as she walked around Provincetown. She looked out the bathroom window, saw that the sun had risen even higher, and made a note to pick up some sunscreen. Her skin would burn if she didn’t, and she’d learned from experience that a sunburn was one of the quickest ways to ruin a beach trip.
Outside on the deck, Deanna had set breakfast on the table. There was cantaloupe and grapefruit, along with toasted bagels. After taking her seat, she spread some low-fat cream cheese on them—Deanna was on one of her endless diets again—and the two of them talked for a long while. Brian was out golfing, as he would be every day this week, and he had to go in the early morning because he was on some sort of medication that Deanna said “does awful things to his skin if he spends too much time in the sun.”
Brian and Deanna had been together thirty-six years. College sweethearts, they’d married the summer after graduation, right after Brian accepted a job with an accounting firm in downtown Boston. Eight years later Brian became a partner and they bought a spacious house in Brookline, where they had lived alone for the past twenty-eight years.
They had always wanted children, but after six years of marriage Deanna had yet to become pregnant. They went to see a gynecologist and discovered that Deanna’s fallopian tubes had been scarred and that having a child was impossible. They tried to adopt for several years, but the list seemed never-ending, and they eventually gave up hope. Then came the dark years, she once confided to Theresa, a time when the marriage almost failed. But their commitment, though shaken, remained solid, and Deanna turned to work to fill the void in her life. She started at the Boston Times when women were rare and gradually worked her way up the corporate ladder. When she became managing editor ten years ago, she began to take women reporters under her wing. Theresa had been her first student.
After Deanna had gone upstairs to shower, Theresa looked through the paper briefly, then checked her watch. She rose from her seat and went to the phone to dial David’s number. It was still early there, only seven o’clock, but she knew the whole family would be awake by now. Kevin always rose at the crack of dawn, and for once she was thankful that someone else had to share in that wonderful experience. She paced back and forth as the phone rang a few times before Annette picked up. Theresa could hear the TV in the background and the sound of a crying baby.
“Hi. It’s Theresa. Is Kevin around?”
“Oh, hi. Of course he’s here. Hold on for just a second.”
The phone clunked down on the counter and Theresa listened as Annette called for him: “Kevin, it’s for you. Theresa’s on the phone.”
The fact that she wasn’t referred to as Kevin’s mom hurt more than she expected, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it.
Kevin was out of breath when he reached the phone.
“Hey, Mom. How’re you doing? How’s your vacation?”
She felt a pang of loneliness at the sound of his voice. It was still high, childlike, but she knew it was only a matter of time before it changed.
“It’s beautiful, but I only got here yesterday night. I haven’t done much except for jogging this morning.”
“Were there a lot of people on the beach?”
“No, but I saw a few people heading out as I finished. Hey, when do you take off with your dad?”
“In a couple days. His vacation doesn’t start until Monday, so that’s when we leave. Right now he’s getting ready to go