Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [13]
Theresa left the two of them alone for the rest of the afternoon. Since the day was still warm, she changed into the new suit she had bought, grabbed a towel and small fold-up chair and People magazine, then went to the beach.
She thumbed idly through People, reading a few articles here and there, not really interested in what was happening to the rich and famous. All around her she could hear the laughter of children as they splashed in the water and filled their pails with sand. Off to one side of her were two young boys and a man, presumably their father, building a castle near the water’s edge. The sound of the lapping waves was soothing. She put down the magazine and closed her eyes, angling her face toward the sun.
She wanted a little color by the time she got back to work, if for no other reason than to look as though she had taken some time to do absolutely nothing. Even at work she was regarded as the type who was always on the go. If she wasn’t writing her weekly column, she was working on the column for the Sunday editions, or researching on the Internet, or poring over child development journals. She had subscriptions at work to every major parenting magazine and every childhood magazine, as well as others devoted to working women. She also subscribed to medical journals, scanning them regularly for topics that might be suitable.
The column itself was never predictable—perhaps that was one of the reasons it was so successful. Sometimes she responded to questions, other times she reported on the latest child development data and what it meant. A lot of columns were about the joys that came with raising children, while others described the pitfalls. She wrote of the struggles of single motherhood, a subject that seemed to touch a nerve in the lives of Boston women. Unexpectedly, her column had turned her into a local celebrity of sorts. But even though it was fun in the beginning to see her picture above her column, or to receive invitations to private parties, she always had so much going on, she didn’t seem to have time to enjoy it. Now she regarded it as just another feature of the job—one that was nice but didn’t really mean much to her.
After an hour in the sun, Theresa realized she was hot and walked to the water. She waded in to her hips, then went under as a small wave approached. The cool water made her gasp when her head came up, and a man standing next to her chuckled.
“Refreshing, isn’t it?” he said, and she agreed with a nod as she crossed her arms.
He was tall with dark hair the same color as hers, and for a second she wondered if he was flirting with her. But the children nearby quickly ended that illusion with shouts of “Dad!” and after a few more minutes in the water, she got out and walked back to her chair. The beach was clearing out. She packed up her things as well and started back.
At the house, Brian was watching golf on television and Deanna was reading a novel with a picture of a young, handsome lawyer on the cover. Deanna looked up from her book.
“How was the beach?”
“It was great. The sun felt wonderful, but the water kind of shocks you when you go under.”
“It always does. I don’t see how people can stand to be in it for more than a few minutes.”
Theresa hung the towel on a rack by the door. She spoke over her shoulder. “How’s the book?”
Deanna turned the book over in her hands and glanced at the cover. “Wonderful. It reminds me of how Brian used to look a few years back.”
Brian grunted without looking away from the television. “Huh?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. Just reminiscing.” She turned her attention back to Theresa. Her eyes were shining. “Are you up for some gin rummy?”
Deanna loved card games of any kind. She was in two bridge clubs, played hearts like a champion, and kept a record of every time she won a game of solitaire. But gin rummy had always been the game that she and Theresa played when they had time, because it was the only game that Theresa