Page 22 of Message in a Bottle

Staring at them both, even he understood why he was having so much trouble with it all. He loved Theresa more than he ever thought he could... but he still loved Catherine....

Was it possible to love them both at once?

"I can't wait to see you again," Garrett said.

It was the middle of November, a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. Theresa and Kevin were flying home to see her parents for the holidays, and Theresa had made arrangements to come down the weekend before to spend some time with Garrett. It had been a month since they'd seen each other.

"I'm looking forward to it, too," she said. "And you promised that I'd finally get to meet your father, right?"

"He's planning on cooking an early Thanksgiving dinner for us at his place. He keeps asking me what you like to eat. I think he wants to make a good impression."

"Tell him he doesn't have to worry. Anything he makes will be fine."

"That's what I keep telling him. But I can tell he's nervous about it."

"Why?"

"Because you'll be the first guest we've ever had over. For years, it's just been the two of us."

"Am I interrupting a family tradition?"

"No--I like to think that we're starting a new one. Besides, he was the one who volunteered, remember?"

"Do you think he'll like me?"

"I know he will."

When he found out Theresa was coming, Jeb Blake did some things he hadn't ever done before. First, he hired someone to come in and clean the small house where he lived, a job that ended up taking almost two days because he was so adamant that the house be spotless. He also bought a new shirt and tie. Emerging from his bedroom in his new clothes, he couldn't help but notice the surprise in Garrett's eyes.

"How do I look?" he asked.

"You look fine, but why are you wearing a tie?"

"It's not for you--it's for dinner this weekend."

Garrett continued to stare at his father, a wry smile on his face. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a tie before."

"I've worn them before. You just haven't noticed."

"You don't have to wear a tie just because Theresa is coming."

"I know that," he replied tersely, "I just felt like wearing one to dinner this year."

"You're nervous about meeting her, aren't you?"

"No."

"Dad--you don't have to be someone you're not. I'm sure Theresa would like you no matter how you were dressed."

"That doesn't mean I can't look nice for your lady friend, does it?"

"No."

"Then I guess it's settled, isn't it? I didn't come out here to get your advice about it, I came out here to see if I looked okay."

"You look fine."

"Good."

He turned and started back to the bedroom, already untucking his shirt and loosening the tie. Garrett watched him vanish from sight, and a moment later he heard his father call his name.

"What now?" Garrett asked.

His father peeked his head around the corner. "You're wearing a tie, too, aren't you?"

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Well, change your plans. I don't want Theresa to find out that I raised someone who didn't know how to dress for company."

The day before her arrival, Garrett helped his father finish his preparations. Garrett mowed the lawn while Jeb unpacked the wedding china he seldom, if ever, used anymore and washed the dishes by hand. After searching for matching silverware--easier said than done--Jeb found a tablecloth in the closet, deciding it would be a nice touch. He tossed it into the washing machine just as Garrett came inside after finishing the yard. Garrett walked to the cupboard and pulled a glass from the shelf.

"What time is she coming in tomorrow?" Jeb asked from around the corner.

Garrett filled the glass with water and answered over his shoulder. "Her plane gets in about ten o'clock. We should be here around eleven or so."

"What time do you think she'll want to eat?"

"I don't know."

Jeb walked into the kitchen. "You didn't ask her?"

"No."

"Then how will I know when to put the turkey in the oven?"

Garrett took a drink of water. "Just plan on us eating sometime in the middle of the afternoon. Anytime is fine, I'm sure."

"Do you think you should call and ask her?"

"I really don't think it's necessary. It's not that big of a deal."

"Maybe not to you. But it's the first time I'll be meeting her, and if you two end up getting married, I don't want to be the subject of any humorous stories later on."

Garrett raised his eyebrows. "Who said we're getting married?"

"No one."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"Because," he said quickly, "I figured one of us had to, and I wasn't sure you were ever going to get around to it."

Garrett stared at his father. "So, you think I should marry her?"

Jeb winked as he answered. "It doesn't matter what I think, it's what you think that's important, isn't it?"

Later that evening, Garrett opened his front door just as the phone began to ring. After rushing to the phone, he picked it up and heard the voice he expected.

"Garrett?" Theresa asked. "You sound out of breath."

He smiled. "Oh, hey, Theresa. I just walked in. My father had me over at his house all day getting the place ready--he's really looking forward to meeting you."

There was an uncomfortable pause. "About tomorrow...," she said finally.

He felt his throat tighten. "What about tomorrow?"

It took a moment for her to answer. "I'm really sorry, Garrett... I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm not going to be able to make it down to Wilmington after all."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine. It's just that something came up at the last minute--a big conference that I've got to go to."

"What kind of conference?"

"It's for my job." She paused again. "I know it sounds terrible, but I wouldn't go unless it was really important."

He closed his eyes. "What's it for?"

"It's for bigwig editors and media types--they're meeting in Dallas this weekend. Deanna thinks it would be a good idea if I met some of them."

"Did you just find out about it?"

"No... I mean, yes. Well--I knew there was going to be a meeting, but I wasn't supposed to go. Usually, columnists aren't invited, but Deanna pulled some strings and arranged for me to go with her." She hesitated. "I'm really sorry, Garrett, but like I said, it would be wonderful exposure, and it's an opportunity of a lifetime."

He was silent for a moment. Then he said simply, "I understand."

"You're angry with me, aren't you."

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

She knew by his tone that he wasn't telling the truth, but she didn't think there was anything she could say that would make him feel any better.

"Will you tell your father that I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

"Can I call you this weekend?"

"If you want to."

The next day he ate dinner with his father, who did his best to play down the whole affair.

"If it's like she said," his father explained, "she had a good reason. It's not like she can put her job on the back burner. She has a son to support, and she's got to do her best to provide for him. Besides, it's just one weekend--not much in the grand scheme of things."

Garrett nodded, listening to his father but still upset about the whole thing. Jeb went on.

"I'm sure you two will be able to work it out. In fact, she's probably going to do something real special the next time you two are together."

Garrett said nothing. Jeb took a couple of bites before speaking again.

"You've got to understand, Garrett--she's got responsibilities, just like you do, and sometimes those responsibilities take priority. I'm sure that if something happened in the shop tha

t you had to take care of, you would have done the same thing."

Garrett leaned back, pushing his half-eaten plate to the side. "I understand all that, Dad. It's just that I haven't seen her for a month now, and I was really looking forward to her visit."

"Don't you think she wanted to see you, too?"

"She said she did."

Jeb leaned across the table and pushed Garrett's plate in front of him again. "Eat your dinner," he said. "I spent all day cooking, and you're not going to waste it."

Garrett looked at his plate. Though he wasn't hungry anymore, he picked up his fork and took a small bite.

"You know," his father said as he picked at his own food, "this isn't the last time this is going to happen, so you shouldn't get so down about it now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that as long as you two continue to live a thousand miles apart, things like this are going to come up and you won't see each other as much as either one of you wants."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I'm sure you do. But I don't know if either one of you has the guts to do something about it."

Garrett looked at his father, thinking, Gee, Dad, tell me how you really feel. Don't hold back.

"When I was young," Jeb continued, oblivious of his son's sour expression, "things were a lot simpler. If a man loved a woman, he asked her to marry him, and then they lived together. It was as simple as that. But you two--it's like you don't know what to do."

"I've told you before--it's not that easy...."

"Sure it is--if you love her, then find a way to be with her. It's as simple as that. That way, if something comes up and you don't see each other one weekend, you don't end up acting like your life is over."

Jeb paused before continuing. "It just isn't natural what you two are trying to do, and in the long run, it isn't going to work. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Garrett said simply, wishing his father would stop talking about it.

His father cocked his eyebrow, waiting. When Garrett didn't add anything else, Jeb spoke again.

" 'I know'? That's all you have to say?"

He shrugged. "What else can I say?"

"You can say that the next time you see her, you two are going to figure this out. That's what you can say."

"Fine--we'll try to figure it out."

Jeb put his fork down and glared at his son. "I didn't say try, Garrett, I said that you two are going to figure this out."

"Why are you so adamant about it?"

"Because," he said, "if you two don't figure it out, you and me are going to keep eating alone for the next twenty years."

The following day, Garrett took Happenstance out first thing in the morning and stayed on the water until after the sun went down. Though Theresa had left a message for him with her hotel information in Dallas, he hadn't called last night, telling himself that it was too late and that she was already asleep. It was a lie and he knew it, but he simply didn't feel like talking to her yet.

The fact was, he didn't feel like talking to anyone. He was still angry at what she'd done, and the best place for him to think about it was out on the ocean, where no one could bother him. Most of the morning he found himself wondering if she realized how much this whole thing bothered him. More than likely she didn't--he convinced himself--otherwise she wouldn't have done it.

That is, if she cared about him.

By the time the sun rose higher in the sky, however, his anger began to fade. As he thought more clearly about the situation, he decided that his father had been right--as usual. Her reason for not coming didn't reflect on him as much as it reflected on the differences in their lives. She did have responsibilities she couldn't ignore, and as long as they continued to live separate lives, things like this were going to keep coming up.

Though he wasn't happy about it, he wondered if all relationships had moments like these. If truth be told, he didn't know. The only other real relationship he'd ever had was with Catherine, and it wasn't easy to compare the two. He and Catherine were married and living under the same roof, for one thing. Even more, they'd known each other most of their lives, and because they were younger, they didn't have the same responsibilities that either Garrett or Theresa had now. They were fresh out of college, they didn't own a home, and there certainly weren't any children to care for. No--what they had was completely different from what he and Theresa had now, and it wasn't fair to try to link them.

Still, there was one thing he couldn't ignore, one thing that nagged at him throughout the afternoon. Yes, he knew there were differences--yes, he knew it wasn't fair to compare them--but in the end, what stood out for him was the fact that he had never questioned whether he and Catherine were a team. Never once did he question the future with her, never once did it enter his mind that either one of them wouldn't sacrifice everything for the other. Even when they'd had their fights--about where to live, whether to start the shop, or even what to do on Saturday nights--it wasn't as if either one of them doubted their relationship. There was something long-term in the way they interacted with each other, something that reminded him that they would always be together.

Theresa and he, on the other hand, didn't have that yet.

By the time the sun went down, he realized it wasn't fair to think this way. He and Theresa had known each other only for a short period of time--it wasn't realistic to expect it so soon. Given enough time--and the right circumstances--they would become a team as well.

Wouldn't they?

Shaking his head, he realized he wasn't exactly sure.

He wasn't sure about a lot of things.

But one thing he did know--he hadn't ever analyzed his relationship with Catherine the way he was doing with Theresa, and this wasn't fair, either. Besides, analysis wasn't going to help him in this situation. All the analysis in the world didn't change the fact that they didn't see each other as much as they wanted--or needed--to.

No--what they needed now was action.

Garrett called Theresa as soon as he got home that evening.

"Hello," she answered sleepily.

He spoke softly into the phone. "Hey, it's me."

"Garrett?"

"I'm sorry for waking you up, but you'd left a couple of messages on my answering machine."

"I'm glad you called. I wasn't sure you were going to."

"For a while, I didn't want to."

"Are you still mad at me?"

"No," he said quietly. "Sad, maybe, but not mad."

"Because I'm not there this weekend?"

"No. Because you're not here most weekends."

That night he dreamed again.

In his dream Theresa and he were in Boston, walking along one of the busy city streets, crowded with the usual collection of individuals--men and women, old and young, some dressed in suits, others in the baggy clothing typical of today's youth. For a while, they window-shopped just as they had on one of his previous visits. The day was clear and bright, without a cloud in the sky, and Garrett was enjoying spending the day with her.

Theresa stopped at the window of a small craft store and asked if Garrett wanted to go inside. Shaking his head, he said, "You go ahead. I'll wait for you here." Theresa made sure he was certain, then stepped inside. Garrett stood outside the door, relaxing in the shade of the tall buildings, when he saw something familiar out of the corner of his eye.

It was a woman, walking along the sidewalk a little distance away, her blond hair just brushing her shoulders.

He blinked, glanced away for a moment, and turned back quickly. Something in the way she moved struck him, and he watched her as she slowly moved away. Finally the woman stopped and turned her head, as if remembering something. Garrett felt his breath catch.

Catherine.

It couldn't be.

He shook his head. At this distance he couldn't tell if he was mistaken or not.

She started to walk away again just as Garrett called to her.

"Catherine--is it you?"

She didn't seem to hear him above the noise of the street. Garrett glanced over his shoulder and spotted Theresa in the shop, browsing. When he looked back up the street, Catherine--or whoever she was--was turning the corner.

He started toward her, walking quickly, then he began to jog. The sidewalks were becoming more crowded by the second, as if a subway had suddenly opened its doors, and he had to dodge around throngs of people before he reached the corner.

He turned where she had.

Once around the corner, the street grew steadily--menacingly--darker. He picked up his pace again. Though it hadn't been raining, he felt his feet splashing through puddles. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. As he did so, fog began to roll in, almost like a wave, and soon he couldn't see anything more than a few feet away.

"Catherine--are you here?" he shouted. "Where are you?"

He heard laughter in the distance, though he couldn't make out exactly where it was coming from.

He started walking again, slowly. Again he heard the laughter--childlike, happy. He stopped in his tracks.

"Where are you?"

Silence.

He looked from side to side.

Nothing.

The fog grew steadily thicker as a light rain began to fall. He started moving again, unsure where he was going.

Something darted into the fog, and he moved quickly toward it.

She was walking away, only a few feet in front of him.

The rain began to fall harder now, and suddenly everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He began to jog... slowly... slowly... he could see her just ahead... the fog growing thicker by the second... rain coming down in showers... a glimpse of her hair...

And then she was gone. He stopped again. The rain and fog made it impossible to see anymore.

"Where are you?" he shouted again.

Nothing.

"Where are you?" he shouted, even louder this time.

"I'm here," a voice said from the rain and mist.

He wiped the rain from his face. "Catherine?... Is it really you?"

"It's me, Garrett."

But it wasn't her voice.

Theresa stepped out of the fog. "I'm here."

Garrett woke and sat up in bed, sweating profusely. Wiping his face with the sheet, he sat up for a long time afterward.

Later that day, Garrett met with his father.

"I think I want to marry her, Dad."

They were fishing together at the end of the pier with a dozen other people, most of whom seemed lost in thought. Jeb looked up in surprise.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com