The Choice - Nicholas Sparks [49]
As the conversation wound down, she found herself confessing to her occasional frustration at work, the words sometimes spilling out in a way she didn’t quite intend. Though she didn’t mention Dr. Melton, she did relate stories about some of the parents she’d met in her practice. She didn’t give any names, but occasionally Travis would smile in a way that suggested he knew exactly whom she was talking about.
By then, Megan and Liz had packed most of the food back inside the coolers. Laird and Allison had gone for a walk. Matt, on the other hand, had half his body buried in sand by the toddlers, who didn’t quite possess the coordination to prevent their shovels from raining sand into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.
Just then, a Frisbee landed near Gabby’s feet, and she saw Joe approaching.
“I think it’s time we rescued Matt,” he called out. He pointed toward the Frisbee. “You up for it?”
“Are you saying they need some entertainment?”
Joe grinned. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
Travis looked at her. “Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead.”
“I have to warn you—it’s not going to be pretty.” He stood up and shouted in the toddlers’ direction, “Hey, kids? Are you guys ready to see the World Champion Frisbee expert in action?”
“Yay!!!” came the chorus. They dropped their shovels and dashed toward the water.
“Gotta go,” Travis said. “My audience awaits.”
As he jogged down to the waterline and sloshed in, Gabby found herself following his movements and feeling something oddly like affection.
Spending time with Travis wasn’t at all the way she’d imagined it would be. There was no pretension, few attempts to impress, and he seemed to have an intuitive feel for when to stay silent or when to respond. It was that feeling of engagement, she realized, that led her to embark on a relationship with Kevin in the first place. It wasn’t only the physical excitement she felt on the nights they spent together; more than that, she craved the comfort she experienced during those quiet moments they spent talking or when he gently took her hand as they walked through a parking lot on the way to dinner. Those were the moments in which it was easy to think he was the one she was meant to spend her life with, moments that lately had been fewer and farther between.
Gabby reflected on this as she watched Travis dive for the Frisbee. He bungled the catch, allowing the Frisbee to hit him in the chest, and landed in the surf with a dramatic cascade of water. The toddlers squealed with delight, as if it were the funniest thing they’d ever seen. When they shouted, “Do it again, Uncle Travis!” he jumped to his feet with equal flamboyance. He took three long, slow-motion strides and sent the Frisbee flying back to Joe. Putting on his game face, he assumed the exaggerated crouch of a baseball player, readying for the next catch in the infield. With a wink toward the kids, he promised, “The next time, I won’t even get wet!” and followed his comment with a splashing, seizurelike miss that elicited even more squeals of delight. He seemed genuinely to enjoy performing for the kids, which only increased her feelings of warmth toward him. She was still trying to make sense of her reaction to Travis when he finally emerged from the ocean and started toward her, shaking the water from his hair. A moment later, he plopped down on the sand beside her, and when they accidentally touched, Gabby had the briefest flash of them sitting together just like this on a hundred different weekends in the future.
Eleven
The rest of the afternoon seemed to replay the events of the morning in reverse. They spent another hour at the beach before reloading the boat; on their way back, each couple rode once more in the parasail, though on her second trip