this?” Theresa asked again, this time more gently. She heard the caller take a deep breath before she answered.
“My name is Michelle Turner and I live in Norfolk, Virginia.”
“How did you know about the letter?”
“My husband is in the navy and he’s stationed here. Three years ago, I was walking along the beach here, and I found a letter just like the one you found on your vacation. After reading your column, I knew it was the same person who wrote it. The initials were the same.”
Theresa stopped for a moment. It couldn’t be, she thought. Three years ago?
“What kind of paper was it written on?”
“The paper was beige, and it had a picture of a sailing ship in the upper right hand corner.”
Theresa felt her heart pick up speed. It still seemed unbelievable to her.
“Your letter had a picture of a ship, too, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it did,” Theresa whispered.
“I knew it. I knew it as soon as I read your column.” Michelle sounded as if a load had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Do you still have a copy of the letter?” Theresa asked.
“Yes. My husband’s never seen it, but I take it out every now and then just to read it again. It’s a little different from the letter you copied in your column, but the feelings are the same.”
“Could you fax me a copy?”
“Sure,” she said before pausing. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I mean, first me finding it so long ago, and now you finding one.”
“Yes,” Theresa whispered, “it is.”
After giving the fax number to Michelle, Theresa could barely proofread her column. Michelle had to go to a copy store to fax the letter, and Theresa found herself pacing from her desk to the fax machine every five minutes as she waited for the letter to arrive. Forty-six minutes later she heard the fax machine come to life. The first page through was a cover letter from National Copy Service, addressed to Theresa Osborne at the Boston Times.
She watched it as it fell to the tray beneath and heard the sound of the fax machine as it copied the letter line for line. It went quickly—it took only ten seconds to copy a page—but even that wait seemed too long. Then a third page started printing, and she realized that, like the letter she had found, this one too must have covered both sides.
She reached for the copies as the fax machine beeped, signaling an end to the transmission. She took them to her desk without reading them and placed them facedown for a couple of minutes, trying to slow her breathing. It’s only a letter, she told herself.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted the cover page. A quick glance at the ship’s logo proved to her that it was indeed the same writer. She put the page into better light and began to read.
? INCLUDEPICTURE “D:\\AVEL MIRC EBOOKS\\nicholas sparks\\..\\swish.jpg” \* MERGEFORMATINET ???
March 6, 1994
My Darling Catherine,
Where are you? And why, I wonder as I sit alone in a darkened house, have we been forced apart?
I don’t know the answer to these questions, no matter how hard I try to understand. The reason is plain, but my mind forces me to dismiss it and I am torn by anxiety in all my waking hours. I am lost without you. I am soulless, a drifter without a home, a solitary bird in a flight to nowhere. I am all these things, and I am nothing at all. This, my darling, is my life without you. I long for you to show me how to live again.
I try to remember the way we once were, on the breezy deck of Happenstance. Do you recall how we worked on her together? We became a part of the ocean as we rebuilt her, for we both knew it was the ocean that brought us together. It was times like those that I understood the meaning of true happiness. At night, we sailed on blackened water and I watched as the moonlight reflected your beauty. I would watch you with awe and know in my heart that we’d be together forever. Is it always that way, I wonder, when two people are in love? I don’t know, but if my life since
“My name is Michelle Turner and I live in Norfolk, Virginia.”
“How did you know about the letter?”
“My husband is in the navy and he’s stationed here. Three years ago, I was walking along the beach here, and I found a letter just like the one you found on your vacation. After reading your column, I knew it was the same person who wrote it. The initials were the same.”
Theresa stopped for a moment. It couldn’t be, she thought. Three years ago?
“What kind of paper was it written on?”
“The paper was beige, and it had a picture of a sailing ship in the upper right hand corner.”
Theresa felt her heart pick up speed. It still seemed unbelievable to her.
“Your letter had a picture of a ship, too, didn’t it?”
“Yes, it did,” Theresa whispered.
“I knew it. I knew it as soon as I read your column.” Michelle sounded as if a load had been lifted from her shoulders.
“Do you still have a copy of the letter?” Theresa asked.
“Yes. My husband’s never seen it, but I take it out every now and then just to read it again. It’s a little different from the letter you copied in your column, but the feelings are the same.”
“Could you fax me a copy?”
“Sure,” she said before pausing. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I mean, first me finding it so long ago, and now you finding one.”
“Yes,” Theresa whispered, “it is.”
After giving the fax number to Michelle, Theresa could barely proofread her column. Michelle had to go to a copy store to fax the letter, and Theresa found herself pacing from her desk to the fax machine every five minutes as she waited for the letter to arrive. Forty-six minutes later she heard the fax machine come to life. The first page through was a cover letter from National Copy Service, addressed to Theresa Osborne at the Boston Times.
She watched it as it fell to the tray beneath and heard the sound of the fax machine as it copied the letter line for line. It went quickly—it took only ten seconds to copy a page—but even that wait seemed too long. Then a third page started printing, and she realized that, like the letter she had found, this one too must have covered both sides.
She reached for the copies as the fax machine beeped, signaling an end to the transmission. She took them to her desk without reading them and placed them facedown for a couple of minutes, trying to slow her breathing. It’s only a letter, she told herself.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted the cover page. A quick glance at the ship’s logo proved to her that it was indeed the same writer. She put the page into better light and began to read.
? INCLUDEPICTURE “D:\\AVEL MIRC EBOOKS\\nicholas sparks\\..\\swish.jpg” \* MERGEFORMATINET ???
March 6, 1994
My Darling Catherine,
Where are you? And why, I wonder as I sit alone in a darkened house, have we been forced apart?
I don’t know the answer to these questions, no matter how hard I try to understand. The reason is plain, but my mind forces me to dismiss it and I am torn by anxiety in all my waking hours. I am lost without you. I am soulless, a drifter without a home, a solitary bird in a flight to nowhere. I am all these things, and I am nothing at all. This, my darling, is my life without you. I long for you to show me how to live again.
I try to remember the way we once were, on the breezy deck of Happenstance. Do you recall how we worked on her together? We became a part of the ocean as we rebuilt her, for we both knew it was the ocean that brought us together. It was times like those that I understood the meaning of true happiness. At night, we sailed on blackened water and I watched as the moonlight reflected your beauty. I would watch you with awe and know in my heart that we’d be together forever. Is it always that way, I wonder, when two people are in love? I don’t know, but if my life since
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