Message in a Bottle - Nicholas Sparks [9]
“Are you okay? What happened out there? Are you hurt?” She bumped into one of the chairs as she reached out and took Theresa’s hand.
Theresa shook her head. “No, nothing like that. I just found this letter and… I don’t know, after I read it I couldn’t help it.”
“A letter? What letter? Are you sure you’re okay?” Deanna’s free hand gestured compulsively as she asked the questions.
“I’m fine, really. The letter was in a bottle. I found it washed up on the beach. When I opened it and read it…” She trailed off, and Deanna’s face lightened just a bit.
“Oh… that’s good. For a second I thought something awful happened. Like someone had attacked you or something.”
Theresa brushed away a strand of hair that had blown onto her face and smiled at her concern. “No, the letter just really hit me. It’s silly, I know. I shouldn’t have been so emotional. And I’m sorry for giving you a scare.”
“Oh, pooh,” Deanna said, shrugging. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m just glad you’re okay.” She paused for a moment. “You said the letter made you cry? Why? What did it say?”
Theresa wiped her eyes, handed the letter to Deanna, and walked over to the wrought-iron table where Deanna had been sitting. Still feeling a bit ridiculous about crying, she did her best to compose herself.
Deanna read the letter slowly, and when she finished, she looked up at Theresa. Her eyes too were watering. It wasn’t just her, after all.
“It’s… it’s beautiful,” Deanna finally said. “It’s one of the most touching things I’ve ever read.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“And you found it washed up on the beach? When you were running?”
Theresa nodded.
“I don’t know how it could have washed up there. The bay is sheltered from the rest of the ocean, and I’ve never heard of Wrightsville Beach.”
“I don’t know, either, but it looked like it had washed up last night. I almost walked by it at first before I noticed what it was.”
Deanna ran her finger over the writing and paused for a moment. “I wonder who they are. And why was it sealed in a bottle?”
“I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you curious?”
The fact was that Theresa was indeed curious. Immediately after reading it, she had read it again, then a third time. What would it be like, she mused, to have someone love her that way?
“A little. But so what? There’s no way we’ll ever know.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Keep it, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it that much.”
“Hmmm,” Deanna said with an indecipherable smile. Then, “How was your jog?”
Theresa sipped a glass of juice she had poured. “It was good. The sun was really something when it came up. It looked like the world was glowing.”
“That’s just because you were dizzy from lack of oxygen. Jogging does that to you.”
Theresa smiled, amused. “So, I take it you won’t come with me this week.”
Deanna reached for her cup of coffee with a doubtful look on her face. “Not a chance. My exercise is limited to vacuuming the house every weekend. Can you picture me out there, huffing and puffing? I’d probably have a heart attack.”
“It’s refreshing once you get used to it.”
“That may be true, but I’m not young and svelte like you are. The only time I can remember running at all was when I was a kid and the neighbor’s dog got out of the yard. I was running so fast, I almost wet my pants.”
Theresa laughed out loud. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“I thought we’d do a little shopping and have lunch in town. Are you up for something like that?”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
The two women talked about the places they might go. Then Deanna got up and went inside for another cup of coffee and Theresa watched her as she left.
Deanna was fifty-eight and round faced, with hair that was slowly turning to gray. She kept it cut short, dressed without an excess of vanity, and was, Theresa decided, easily the best person she knew. She was knowledgeable about music and