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A Walk to Remember

Published by zunisagar7786, 2018-03-01 13:31:30

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didn’t know, but she had a tender lookabout her. I thought—no, I knew—she waspleased with how the evening had gone,and deep down, so was I. To this point itwas the best Christmas Eve I’d ever spent. I glanced at her. With the lights glowingon her face, she looked as pretty as anyoneI’d ever seen. “I bought you something,” I finally saidto her. “A gift, I mean.” I spoke softly so Iwouldn’t wake the little girl, and I hopedit would hide the nervousness in my voice. She turned from the tree to face me,smiling softly. “You didn’t have to dothat.” She kept her voice low, too, and itsounded almost musical. “I know,” I said. “But I wanted to.” I’dkept the gift off to one side, and I reachedfor it, handing the gift-wrapped package to

her. “Could you open it for me? My handsare kind of full right now.” She lookeddown at the little girl, then back to me. “You don’t have to open it now, ifyou’d rather not,” I said, shrugging, “it’sreally not that big of a deal.” “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I wouldonly open it in front of you.” To clear my mind, I looked at the giftand started opening it, picking at the tapeso that it wouldn’t make much noise, thenunwrapping the paper until I reached thebox. After setting the paper off to the side,I lifted the cover and pulled out thesweater, holding it up to show her. It wasbrown, like the ones she usually wore. ButI figured she could use a new one. Compared with the joy I’d seen earlier,

I didn’t expect much of a reaction. “See, that’s all. I told you it wasn’tmuch,” I said. I hoped she wasn’tdisappointed in it. “It’s beautiful, Landon,” she saidearnestly. “I’ll wear it the next time I seeyou. Thank you.” We sat quietly for a moment, and onceagain I began to look at the lights. “I brought you something, too,” Jamiefinally whispered. She looked toward thetree, and my eyes followed her gaze. Hergift was still beneath the tree, partiallyhidden by the stand, and I reached for it. Itwas rectangular, flexible, and a littleheavy. I brought it to my lap and held itthere without even trying to open it. “Open it,” she said, looking right at me. “You can’t give this to me,” I said

breathlessly. I already knew what wasinside, and I couldn’t believe what shehad done. My hands began to tremble. “Please,” she said to me with thekindest voice I’d ever heard, “open it. Iwant you to have it.” Reluctantly I slowly unwrapped thepackage. When it was finally free of thepaper, I held it gently, afraid to damage it.I stared at it, mesmerized, and slowly ranmy hand over the top, brushing my fingersover the well-worn leather as tears filledmy eyes. Jamie reached out and rested herhand on mine. It was warm and soft. I glanced at her, not knowing what tosay. Jamie had given me her Bible. “Thank you for doing what you did,”she whispered to me. “It was the best

Christmas I’ve ever had.” I turned away without responding andreached off to the side where I’d set myglass of punch. The chorus of “SilentNight” was still playing, and the musicfilled the room. I took a sip of the punch,trying to soothe the sudden dryness in mythroat. As I drank, all the times I’d spentwith Jamie came flooding into my mind. Ithought about the homecoming dance andwhat she’d done for me that night. Ithought about the play and how angelicshe’d looked. I thought about the times I’dwalked her home and how I’d helpedcollect jars and cans filled with penniesfor the orphans. As these images were going through myhead, my breathing suddenly went still. Ilooked at Jamie, then up to the ceiling and

around the room, doing my best to keepmy composure, then back to Jamie again.She smiled at me and I smiled at her andall I could do was wonder how I’d everfallen in love with a girl like JamieSullivan.

Chapter 10I drove Jamie home from the orphanagelater that night. At first I wasn’t surewhether I should pull the old yawn moveand put my arm around her shoulder, but tobe honest, I didn’t know exactly how shewas feeling about me. Granted, she’dgiven me the most wonderful gift I’d everreceived, and even though I’d probablynever open it and read it like she did, Iknew it was like giving a piece of herselfaway. But Jamie was the type of personwho would donate a kidney to a stranger

she met walking down the street, if hereally needed one. So I wasn’t exactlysure what to make of it. Jamie had told me once that she wasn’ta dimwit, and I guess I finally came to theconclusion that she wasn’t. She may havebeen . . . well, different . . . but she’dfigured out what I’d done for the orphans,and looking back, I think she knew even aswe were sitting on the floor of her livingroom. When she’d called it a miracle, Iguess she was talking specifically aboutme. Hegbert, I remembered, came into theroom as Jamie and I were talking about it,but he really didn’t have much to say. OldHegbert hadn’t been himself lately, atleast as far as I could tell. Oh, his sermonswere still on the money, and he still talked

about the fornicators, but lately hissermons were shorter than usual, andoccasionally he’d pause right in themiddle of one and this strange look wouldcome over him, kind of like he wasthinking of something else, something sad. I didn’t know what to make of it, beingthat I really didn’t know him that well.And Jamie, when she talked about him,seemed to describe someone else entirely.I could no more imagine Hegbert with asense of humor than I could imagine twomoons in the sky. So anyway, he came into the roomwhile we counted the money, and Jamiestood up with those tears in her eyes, andHegbert didn’t even seem to realize I wasthere. He told her that he was proud of herand that he loved her, but then he shuffled

back to the kitchen to continue working onhis sermon. He didn’t even say hello.Now, I knew I hadn’t exactly been themost spiritual kid in the congregation, butI still found his behavior sort of odd. As I was thinking about Hegbert, Iglanced at Jamie sitting beside me. Shewas looking out the window with apeaceful look on her face, kind of smiling,but far away at the same time. I smiled.Maybe she was thinking about me. Myhand started scooting across the seatcloser to hers, but before I reached it,Jamie broke the silence. “Landon,” she finally asked as sheturned toward me, “do you ever thinkabout God?” I pulled my hand back. Now, when I thought about God, I

usually pictured him like those oldpaintings I’d seen in churches—a gianthovering over the landscape, wearing awhite robe, with long flowing hair,pointing his finger or something like that—but I knew she wasn’t talking about that.She was talking about the Lord’s plan. Ittook a moment for me to answer. “Sure,” I said. “Sometimes, I reckon.” “Do you ever wonder why things haveto turn out the way they do?” I nodded uncertainly. “I’ve been thinking about it a lotlately.” Even more than usual? I wanted to ask,but I didn’t. I could tell she had more tosay, and I stayed quiet. “I know the Lord has a plan for us all,but sometimes, I just don’t understand

what the message can be. Does that everhappen to you?” She said this as though it weresomething I thought about all the time. “Well,” I said, trying to bluff, “I don’tthink that we’re meant to understand it allthe time. I think that sometimes we justhave to have faith.” It was a pretty good answer, I admit. Iguess that my feelings for Jamie weremaking my brain work a little faster thanusual. I could tell she was thinking aboutmy answer. “Yes,” she finally said, “you’re right.” I smiled to myself and changed thesubject, since talking about God wasn’tthe sort of thing that made a person feelromantic. “You know,” I said casually, “it sure

was nice tonight when we were sitting bythe tree earlier.” “Yes, it was,” she said. Her mind wasstill elsewhere. “And you sure looked nice, too.” “Thank you.” This wasn’t working too well. “Can I ask you a question?” I finallysaid, in the hopes of bringing her back tome. “Sure,” she said. I took a deep breath. “After church tomorrow, and, well . . .after you’ve spent some time with yourfather . . . I mean . . .” I paused and lookedat her. “Would you mind coming over tomy house for Christmas dinner?” Even though her face was still turnedtoward the window, I could see the faint

outlines of a smile as soon as I’d said it. “Yes, Landon, I would like that verymuch.” I sighed with relief, not believing I’dactually asked her and still wonderinghow all this had happened. I drove downstreets where windows were decoratedwith Christmas lights, and through theBeaufort City Square. A couple of minuteslater when I reached across the seat, Ifinally took hold of her hand, and tocomplete the perfect evening, she didn’tpull it away. When we pulled up in front of herhouse, the lights in the living room werestill on and I could see Hegbert behind thecurtains. I supposed he was waiting upbecause he wanted to hear how theevening went at the orphanage. Either that,

or he wanted to make sure I didn’t kiss hisdaughter on the doorstep. I knew he’dfrown on that sort of thing. I was thinking about that—what to dowhen we finally said goodbye, I mean—when we got out of the car and startedtoward the door. Jamie was quiet andcontent at the same time, and I think shewas happy that I’d asked her to come overthe next day. Since she’d been smartenough to figure out what I’d done for theorphans, I figured that maybe she’d beensmart enough to figure out the homecomingsituation as well. In her mind, I think evenshe realized that this was the first time I’dactually asked her to join me of my ownvolition. Just as we got to her steps, I sawHegbert peek out from behind the curtains

and pull his face back. With some parents,like Angela’s, for instance, that meant theyknew you were home and you had aboutanother minute or so before they’d openthe door. Usually that gave you both timeto sort of bat your eyes at each other whileeach of you worked up the nerve toactually kiss. It usually took about thatlong. Now I didn’t know if Jamie would kissme; in fact, I actually doubted that shewould. But with her looking so pretty,with her hair down and all, and everythingthat had happened tonight, I didn’t want tomiss the opportunity if it came up. I couldfeel the little butterflies already starting toform in my stomach when Hegbert openedthe door. “I heard you pull up,” he said quietly.

His skin was that sallow color, as usual,but he looked tired. “Hello, Reverend Sullivan,” I saiddejectedly. “Hi, Daddy,” Jamie said happily asecond later. “I wish you could have cometonight. It was wonderful.” “I’m so glad for you.” He seemed togather himself then and cleared his throat.“I’ll give you a bit to say good night. I’llleave the door open for you.” He turned around and went back intothe living room. From where he sat down,I knew he could still see us. He pretendedto be reading, though I couldn’t see whatwas in his hands. “I had a wonderful time tonight,Landon,” Jamie said. “So did I,” I answered, feeling

Hegbert’s eyes on me. I wondered if heknew I’d been holding her hand during thecar ride home. “What time should I come overtomorrow?” she asked. Hegbert’s eyebrow raised just a little. “I’ll come over to get you. Is fiveo’clock okay?” She looked over her shoulder. “Daddy,would you mind if I visited with Landonand his parents tomorrow?” Hegbert brought his hand to his eyesand started rubbing them. He sighed. “If it’s important to you, you can,” hesaid. Not the most stirring vote of confidenceI’d ever heard, but it was good enough forme. “What should I bring?” she asked. In the

South it was tradition to always ask thatquestion. “You don’t need to bring anything,” Ianswered. “I’ll pick you up at a quarter tofive.” We stood there for a moment withoutsaying anything else, and I could tellHegbert was growing a little impatient.He hadn’t turned a page of the book sincewe’d been standing there. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she saidfinally. “Okay,” I said. She glanced down at her feet for amoment, then back up at me. “Thank youfor driving me home,” she said. With that, she turned around and walkedinside. I could barely see the slight smileplaying gently across her lips as she

peeked around the door, just as it wasabout to close. The next day I picked her up right onschedule and was pleased to see that herhair was down once more. She waswearing the sweater I’d given her, justlike she’d promised. Both my mom and dad were a littlesurprised when I’d asked if it would beall right if Jamie came by for dinner. Itwasn’t a big deal—whenever my dad wasaround, my mom would have Helen, ourcook, make enough food for a small army. I guess I didn’t mention that earlier,about the cook, I mean. In our house wehad a maid and a cook, not only becausemy family could afford them, but also

because my mom wasn’t the greatesthomemaker in the world. She was all rightat making sandwiches for my lunch nowand then, but there’d been times when themustard would stain her nails, and itwould take her at least three or four daysto get over it. Without Helen I would havegrown up eating burned mashed potatoesand crunchy steak. My father, luckily, hadrealized this as soon as they married, andboth the cook and the maid had been withus since before I was born. Though our house was larger than most,it wasn’t a palace or anything, and neitherthe cook nor the maid lived with usbecause we didn’t have separate livingquarters or anything like that. My fatherhad bought the home because of itshistorical value. Though it wasn’t the

house where Blackbeard had once lived,which would have been more interestingto someone like me, it had been owned byRichard Dobbs Spaight, who’d signed theConstitution. Spaight had also owned afarm outside of New Bern, which wasabout forty miles up the road, and that waswhere he was buried. Our house might nothave been as famous as the one whereDobbs Spaight was buried, but it stillafforded my father some bragging rights inthe halls of Congress, and whenever hewalked around the garden, I could see himdreaming about the legacy he wanted toleave. In a way it made me sad, becauseno matter what he did, he’d never top oldRichard Dobbs Spaight. Historical eventslike signing the Constitution come alongonly once every few hundred years, and

no matter how you sliced it, debating farmsubsidies for tobacco farmers or talkingabout the “Red influence” was nevergoing to cut it. Even someone like meknew that. The house was in the National HistoricRegister—still is, I suppose—and thoughJamie had been there once before, she wasstill kind of awed when she walkedinside. My mother and father were bothdressed very nicely, as was I, and mymother kissed Jamie hello on the cheek.My mother, I couldn’t help but think as Iwatched her do it, had scored before I did. We had a nice dinner, fairly formalwith four courses, though it wasn’t stuffyor anything like that. My parents andJamie carried on the most marvelousconversation—think Miss Garber here—

and though I tried to inject my own brandof humor, it didn’t really go over too well,at least as far as my parents wereconcerned. Jamie, however, would laugh,and I took that as a good sign. After dinner I invited Jamie to walkaround the garden, even though it waswinter and nothing was in bloom. Afterputting on our coats, we stepped outsideinto the chilled winter air. I could see ourbreaths coming out in little puffs. “Your parents are wonderful people,”she said to me. I guess she hadn’t takenHegbert’s sermons to heart. “They’re nice,” I responded, “in theirown way. My mom’s especially sweet.” Isaid this not only because it was true, butalso because it was the same thing thatkids said about Jamie. I hoped she would

get the hint. She stopped to look at the rosebushes.They looked like gnarled sticks, and Ididn’t see what her interest was in them. “Is it true about your grandfather?” sheasked me. “The stories that people tell?” I guess she didn’t get my hint. “Yes,” I said, trying not to show mydisappointment. “That’s sad,” she said simply. “There’smore to life than money.” “I know.” She looked at me. “Do you?” I didn’t meet her eyes as I answered.Don’t ask me why. “I know that what my grandfather didwas wrong.” “But you don’t want to give it back, doyou?”

“I’ve never really thought about it, totell you the truth.” “Would you, though?” I didn’t answer right away, and Jamieturned from me. She was staring at therosebushes with their gnarled sticks again,and I suddenly realized that she’d wantedme to say yes. It’s what she would havedone without thinking twice about it. “Why do you do things like that?” Iblurted out before I could stop myself,blood rushing into my cheeks. “Making mefeel guilty, I mean. I wasn’t the one whodid it. I just happened to be born into thisfamily.” She reached out and touched a branch.“That doesn’t mean you can’t undo it,” shesaid gently, “when you get theopportunity.”

Her point was clear, even to me, anddeep down I knew she was right. But thatdecision, if it ever came, was a long wayoff. To my way of thinking, I had moreimportant things on my mind. I changed thesubject back to something I could relate tobetter. “Does your father like me?” I asked. Iwanted to know if Hegbert would allowme to see her again. It took a moment for her to answer. “My father,” she said slowly, “worriesabout me.” “Don’t all parents?” I asked. She looked at her feet, then off to theside again before turning back to me. “I think that with him, it’s different frommost. But my father does like you, and heknows that it makes me happy to see you.

That’s why he let me come over to yourhouse for dinner tonight.” “I’m glad he did,” I said, meaning it. “So am I.” We looked at each other under the lightof a waxing crescent moon, and I almostkissed her right then, but she turned awaya moment too soon and said something thatsort of threw me. “My father worries about you, too,Landon.” The way she said it—it was soft andsad at the same time—let me know that itwasn’t simply because he thought I wasirresponsible, or that I used to hide behindthe trees and call him names, or even that Iwas a member of the Carter family. “Why?” I asked. “For the same reason that I do,” she

said. She didn’t elaborate any further, andI knew right then that she was holdingsomething back, something that shecouldn’t tell me, something that made hersad as well. But it wasn’t until later that Ilearned her secret. Being in love with a girl like JamieSullivan was without a doubt the strangestthing I’d ever been through. Not only wasshe a girl that I’d never thought aboutbefore this year— even though we’dgrown up together—but there wassomething different in the whole way myfeelings for her had unfolded. This wasn’tlike being with Angela, whom I’d kissedthe first time I was ever alone with her. Istill hadn’t kissed Jamie. I hadn’t even

hugged her or taken her to Cecil’s Dineror even to a movie. I hadn’t done any ofthe things that I normally did with girls,yet somehow I’d fallen in love. The problem was, I still didn’t knowhow she felt about me. Oh sure, there were some indications,and I hadn’t missed them. The Bible was,of course, the biggie, but there was alsothe way she’d looked at me when she’dclosed the door on Christmas Eve, andshe’d let me hold her hand on the ridehome from the orphanage. To my way ofthinking there was definitely somethingthere—I just wasn’t exactly sure of how totake the next step. When I’d finally taken her home afterChristmas dinner, I’d asked if it would beokay if I came by from time to time, and

she’d said it would be fine. That’s exactlyhow she’d said it, too—“That would befine.” I didn’t take the lack of enthusiasmpersonally—Jamie had a tendency to talklike an adult, and I think that’s why she gotalong with older people so well. The following day I walked to herhouse, and the first thing I noticed was thatHegbert’s car wasn’t in the driveway.When she answered the door, I knewenough not to ask her if I could come in. “Hello, Landon,” she said as shealways did, as if it were a surprise to seeme. Again her hair was down, and I tookthis as a positive sign. “Hey, Jamie,” I said casually. She motioned to the chairs. “Myfather’s not home, but we can sit on theporch if you’d like. . . .”

Don’t even ask me how it happened,because I still can’t explain it. One secondI was standing there in front of her,expecting to walk to the side of the porch,and in the next second I wasn’t. Instead ofmoving toward the chairs, I took a stepcloser to her and found myself reachingfor her hand. I took it in mine and lookedright at her, moving just a little closer. Shedidn’t exactly step back, but her eyeswidened just a little, and for a tiny,flickering moment I thought I’d done thewrong thing and debated going any further.I paused and smiled, sort of tilting myhead to the side, and the next thing I sawwas that she’d closed her eyes and wastilting her head, too, and that our faceswere moving closer together. It wasn’t that long, and it certainly

wasn’t the kind of kiss you see in moviesthese days, but it was wonderful in itsown way, and all I can remember aboutthe moment is that when our lips firsttouched, I knew the memory would lastforever.

Chapter 11 “You’re the first boy I’ve everkissed,” she said to me. It was a few days before the new year,and Jamie and I were standing at the IronSteamer Pier in Pine Knoll Shores. To getthere, we’d had to cross the bridge thatspans the Intracoastal Waterway and drivea little way down the island. Nowadaysthe place has some of the most expensivebeachfront property in the entire state, butback then it was mainly sand dunesnestled against the Maritime NationalForest. “I figured I might have been,” I said. “Why?” she asked innocently. “Did I do

it wrong?” She didn’t look like she’d betoo upset if I’d said yes, but it wouldn’thave been the truth. “You’re a great kisser,” I said, givingher hand a squeeze. She nodded and turned toward theocean, her eyes getting that far-off lookagain. She’d been doing that a lot lately. Ilet it go on for a while before the silencesort of got to me. “Are you okay, Jamie?” I finally asked. Instead of answering, she changed thesubject. “Have you ever been in love?” sheasked me. I ran my hand through my hair and gaveher one of those looks. “You mean beforenow?” I said it like James Dean would have,

the way Eric had told me to say it if a girlever asked me that question. Eric waspretty slick with girls. “I’m serious, Landon,” she said, tossingme a sidelong glance. I guess Jamie had seen those movies,too. With Jamie, I’d come to realize, Ialways seemed to be going from high tolow and back to high again in less timethan it takes to swat a mosquito. I wasn’tquite sure if I liked that part of ourrelationship yet, though to be honest, itkept me on my toes. I was still feeling offbalance as I thought about her question. “Actually, I have,” I said finally. Her eyes were still fixed on the ocean. Ithink she thought I was talking aboutAngela, but looking back, I’d realized thatwhat I’d felt for Angela was totally

different from what I was feeling rightnow. “How did you know it was love?” sheasked me. I watched the breeze gently moving herhair, and I knew that it was no time topretend I was something that I actuallywasn’t. “Well,” I said seriously, “you know it’slove when all you want to do is spendtime with the other person, and you sort ofknow that the other person feels the sameway.” Jamie thought about my answer beforesmiling faintly. “I see,” she said softly. I waited for herto add something else, but she didn’t, and Icame to another sudden realization. Jamie may not have been all that

experienced with boys, but to tell you thetruth, she was playing me like a harp. During the next two days, for instance,she wore her hair in a bun again. On New Year’s Eve I took Jamie out todinner. It was the very first real date she’dever been on, and we went to a smallwaterfront restaurant in Morehead City, aplace called Flauvin’s. Flauvin’s was thekind of restaurant with tablecloths andcandles and five different pieces ofsilverware per setting. The waiters woreblack and white, like butlers, and whenyou looked out the giant windows thatcompletely lined the wall, you couldwatch moon-light reflecting off the slowlymoving water. There was a pianist and a singer, too,not every night or even every weekend,

but on holidays when they thought theplace would be full. I had to makereservations, and the first time I calledthey said they were filled, but I had mymom call them, and the next thing youknew, something had opened up. I guessthe owner needed a favor from my fatheror something, or maybe he just didn’t wantto make him angry, knowing that mygrandfather was still alive and all. It was actually my mom’s idea to takeJamie out someplace special. A couple ofdays before, on one of those days Jamiewas wearing her hair in a bun, I talked tomy mom about the things I was goingthrough. “She’s all I think about, Mom,” Iconfessed. “I mean, I know she likes me,but I don’t know if she feels the same way

that I do.” “Does she mean that much to you?” sheasked. “Yes,” I said quietly. “Well, what have you tried so far?” “What do you mean?” My mom smiled. “I mean that younggirls, even Jamie, like to be made to feelspecial.” I thought about that for a moment, alittle confused. Wasn’t that what I wastrying to do? “Well, I’ve been going to her houseevery day to visit,” I said. My mom put her hand on my knee. Eventhough she wasn’t a great homemaker andsometimes stuck it to me, like I saidearlier, she really was a sweet lady. “Going to her house is a nice thing to

do, but it’s not the most romantic thingthere is. You should do something thatwill really let her know how you feelabout her.” My mom suggested buying someperfume, and though I knew that Jamiewould probably be happy to receive it, itdidn’t sound right to me. For one thing,since Hegbert didn’t allow her to wearmakeup—with the single exception beingthe Christmas play—I was sure shecouldn’t wear perfume. I told my mom asmuch, and that was when she’d suggestedtaking her out to dinner. “I don’t have any money left,” I said toher dejectedly. Though my family waswealthy and gave me an allowance, theynever gave me more if I ran through it tooquickly. “It builds responsibility,” my

father said, explaining it once. “What happened to your money in thebank?” I sighed, and my mom sat in silencewhile I explained what I had done. When Ifinished, a look of quiet satisfactioncrossed her face, as if she, too, knew Iwas finally growing up. “Let me worry about that,” she saidsoftly. “You just find out if she’d like togo and if Reverend Sullivan will allow it.If she can, we’ll find a way to make ithappen. I promise.” The following day I went to the church.I knew that Hegbert would be in hisoffice. I hadn’t asked Jamie yet because Ifigured she would need his permission,

and for some reason I wanted to be theone who asked. I guess it had to do withthe fact that Hegbert hadn’t exactly beenwelcoming me with open arms when Ivisited. Whenever he’d see me coming upthe walkway—like Jamie, he had a sixthsense about it—he’d peek out the curtains,then quickly pull his head back behindthem, thinking that I hadn’t seen him. WhenI knocked, it would take a long time forhim to answer the door, as if he had tocome from the kitchen. He’d look at mefor a long moment, then sigh deeply andshake his head before finally saying hello. His door was partially open, and I sawhim sitting behind his desk, spectaclespropped on his nose. He was looking oversome papers— they looked almostfinancial—and I figured he was trying to

figure out the church budget for thefollowing year. Even ministers had billsto pay. I knocked at the door, and he looked upwith interest, as if he expected anothermember of the congregation, thenfurrowed his brow when he saw that itwas me. “Hello, Reverend Sullivan,” I saidpolitely. “Do you have a moment?” Helooked even more tired than usual, and Iassumed he wasn’t feeling well. “Hello, Landon,” he said wearily. I’d dressed sharply for the occasion, bythe way, with a jacket and tie. “May Icome in?” He nodded slightly, and Ientered the office. He motioned for me tosit in the chair across from his desk. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

I adjusted myself nervously in the chair.“Well, sir, I wanted to ask yousomething.” He stared at me, studying me before hefinally spoke. “Does it have to do withJamie?” he asked. I took a deep breath. “Yes, sir. I wanted to ask if it would beall right with you if I took her to dinner onNew Year’s Eve.” He sighed. “Is that all?” he said. “Yes, sir,” I said. “I’ll bring her homeany time you’d need me to.” He took off his spectacles and wipedthem with his handkerchief before puttingthem back on. I could tell he was taking amoment to think about it. “Will your parents be joining you?” heasked.

“No, sir.” “Then I don’t think that will bepossible. But thank you for asking mypermission first.” He looked down at thepapers, making it clear it was time for meto leave. I stood from my chair and startedtoward the door. As I was about to go, Ifaced him again. “Reverend Sullivan?” He looked up, surprised I was stillthere. “I’m sorry for those things I used to dowhen I was younger, and I’m sorry that Ididn’t always treat Jamie the way sheshould have been treated. But from nowon, things will change. I promise youthat.” He seemed to look right through me. Itwasn’t enough.

“I love her,” I said finally, and when Isaid it, his attention focused on me again. “I know you do,” he answered sadly,“but I don’t want to see her hurt.” Eventhough I must have been imagining it, Ithought I saw his eyes begin to water. “I wouldn’t do that to her,” I said. He turned from me and looked out thewindow, watching as the winter sun triedto force its way through the clouds. It wasa gray day, cold and bitter. “Have her home by ten,” he finally said,as though he knew he’d made the wrongdecision. I smiled and wanted to thank him,though I didn’t. I could tell that he wantedto be alone. When I glanced over myshoulder on my way out the door, I waspuzzled to see his face in his hands.

I asked Jamie an hour later. The firstthing she said was that she didn’t think shecould go, but I told her that I’d alreadyspoken to her father. She seemedsurprised, and I think it had an effect onhow she viewed me after that. The onething I didn’t tell her was that it lookedalmost as though Hegbert had been cryingas I’d made my way out the door. Not onlydidn’t I understand it completely, I didn’twant her to worry. That night, though, aftertalking to my mom again, she provided mewith a possible explanation, and to behonest, it made perfect sense to me.Hegbert must have come to the realizationthat his daughter was growing up and thathe was slowly losing her to me. In a way,I hoped that was true. I picked her up right on schedule.

Though I hadn’t asked her to wear her hairdown, she’d done it for me. Silently wedrove over the bridge, down thewaterfront to the restaurant. When we gotto the hostess stand, the owner himselfappeared and walked us to our table. Itwas one of the better ones in the place. It was crowded by the time we arrived,and all around us people were enjoyingthem-selves. On New Year’s peopledressed fashionably, and we were the onlytwo teenagers in the place. I didn’t thinkwe looked too out of place, though. Jamie had never been to Flauvin’sbefore, and it took her just a few minutesto take it all in. She seemed nervouslyhappy, and I knew right away that my momhad made the right suggestion. “This is wonderful,” she said to me.

“Thank you for asking me.” “My pleasure,” I said sincerely. “Have you been here before?” “A few times. My mother and fatherlike to come here sometimes when myfather comes home from Washington.” She looked out the window and staredat a boat that was passing by therestaurant, its lights blazing. For a momentshe seemed lost in wonder. “It’s beautifulhere,” she said. “So are you,” I answered. Jamie blushed. “You don’t mean that.” “Yes,” I said quietly, “I do.” We held hands while we waited fordinner, and Jamie and I talked about someof the things that had happened in the pastfew months. She laughed when we talkedabout the homecoming dance, and I finally


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