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  Jake waved at Lindsey as he straddled his board, waiting for his next ride from a wave. She waved back and picked up her book, hoping to get in some reading. But as the day unfolded—with her kids drawing her attention away between every few lines—Lindsey eventually realized she averaged a page an hour and put the book down. She resolved that she would read later, when the kids were settled down watching the Disney Channel back at the house.

  At 4:00, she waved Anna and Jake in. They had had enough sun, wind, and waves. Even they knew it was time to call it a day and came without argument. Wrapped in towels, they made their way to the beach house with Lindsey pulling the wagon full of sand toys, the cooler, and the boogie boards—all piled on precariously. She led their slow procession down the street; the kids besting each other with stories of who rode the longest and got the highest wave.

  “Mom, what’s for dinner?” Jake asked, a question that still came faithfully every evening, no matter what changed in their lives.

  “I thought I’d make hot dogs,” she replied, reaching out to stop the top boogie board from falling off the wagon.

  He pondered that for a moment. “Can we have mac and cheese too?” he asked hopefully.

  “Sure, why not?” she answered.

  “Yesss!” he said and waved the towel he carried in the air.

  After they were inside and dressed in sweats, the kids settled in with a movie while she made hot dogs and macaroni and cheese. She realized she had barely thought about Grant all day. While at the beach, she hadn’t worried about the future or wondered if they would ever work things out. She hadn’t begged God to restore their marriage or change Grant’s heart. She hadn’t wished Grant was there, and she hadn’t wallowed in her own sadness. With the change in weather had come a change in attitude for both her and her children. Their hope had returned with the sun. Her prayer, she knew, had been heard.

  As she stirred the neon orange powder into the macaroni, she realized that she would never get away with serving a meal like that if Grant were with them. If he were there, she would have stressed about putting something delicious and nutritious on the table. But the kids couldn’t have cared less. In fact, they preferred hot dogs with lots of ketchup and boxed macaroni and cheese. For the briefest moment—the barest flicker—she felt a little bit happy to be there without Grant, in her favorite place in all the world, with her children, enjoying a quiet evening. A smile spread on her face. And as she settled into bed that night alone, she determined that the place was already working its magic.

  Chapter 11

  Chapel Hill, NC

  Fall 1989

  College wasn’t everything Lindsey had hoped it would be, but it was better than living at home. She could even tolerate occasionally talking with her mother once they no longer lived in the same house. Her mom seemed to derive a vicarious thrill out of her daughter’s college life. Lindsey could hear the longing in her voice as she asked her to describe the classes, the campus, the parties.

  Lindsey looked around at her surroundings and wondered how she could make this one sound exciting. The dark basement of the fraternity house was hardly the scene for a romantic encounter. And still Lindsey scanned the crowd. Though she went on a few dates in high school and college, no one she had met made her heart hammer the way Campbell had … yet. She still held out hope at every party, every mixer with her sorority, every new class she walked into. That somewhere, waiting for her, was a man who would bring her the happiness she used to feel.

  Her roommate, Heather, walked up to her and bumped her shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “This party is lame. This fraternity is lamer. You wanna leave?” Heather yawned for emphasis in her drama-major way.

  Lindsey cast another glance around the room and saw a guy standing beside the keg, dispensing drinks, smiling right at her. It was a smile filled with possibility. “You can go,” she told Heather. “I’m going to stick around.”

  Heather shrugged her shoulders. “Ohhhkaaay. See you back at the room?”

  “I’ll be there,” Lindsey said over her shoulder, already walking toward the guy, whose gaze still held hers. As she gave him a demure half-smile, she added, “Eventually,” though Heather was already gone.

  She handed him her empty cup. “More, please,” she said.

  “Wow. Polite!” he said, taking the cup from her hand and filling it with a flourish. “I like that in a girl.”

  She accepted the full cup from him, their fingers brushing as she did. She felt what could only be described as an electrical jolt.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled, trying not to slurp the foam and staring into her beer. She didn’t really like beer, but it was the drink of choice in college. Holly, who was tucked away at a Christian college, chastised her for drinking at all. Holly’s wholesome world was filled with mission-trip meetings, rousing games of cards, and Christian concerts. Lindsey’s was filled with parties like these, each one like the one before. She missed Holly and was already thinking of what she would tell her about this encounter. That Lindsey was deigning to talk to him was an improvement. There was something about him. Something … different that she couldn’t put her finger on, yet.

  “I’m Grant Adams,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “And you are?”

  “Oh sorry.” She sheepishly extended her hand. “I’m Lindsey Porter.” He took her hand in his warm, soft one. The electricity was there. “Are you a brother here?” she asked.

  He nodded and looked around. “It’s not much, but we call it home.” His tone was genuine as he gestured to the nearly empty room, and her eyes followed his hand. A few chairs lined the walls and a decrepit pool table had been shoved into the corner where a few guys were playing. One of them poked the other with the end of his pool stick and then waved in their direction.

  She smiled at Grant and noticed again how attractive he was, and how familiar he seemed. “Have we had a class together? I feel like maybe we’ve met,” she ventured.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He took a sip of his own beer and handed the tap off to a fraternity brother nearby. Taking her elbow, he steered them away from the keg. “But I have to say, I had the same feeling when I saw you across the room a minute ago. That I already knew you somehow.” He shook his head and smiled. “I guess that sounds crazy.”

  “No,” she said, smiling back. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s not that you look familiar, you seem familiar, like I knew you—”

  “In another life?” he offered with a smile.

  “No,” she said. He looked back at her with an intensity she hadn’t seen in another person’s eyes in a long time. “Definitely in this one.”

  The music changed to the Dire Straits’ “The Sultans of Swing,” a song she would forever equate with the moment she knew she would marry Grant Adams.

  “I hope you’ll let me get to know you in this life, Lindsey Porter,” he said. He grabbed her hand to lead her to the makeshift dance floor, in a basement that no longer seemed dark and dingy, but as bright as a brand-new day.

  Sunset Beach

  Summer 1990

  Dear Kindred Spirit,

  I think I have found “the one.” Did you already know that? Could you sense it was coming? I like to think that you could. You have become a trusted friend to me, Kindred Spirit, even though we have never met. I actually like the mystery of wondering who you are. That way I can imagine you the way I want you to be. There is no disappointment in imagining.

  Sometimes I imagine that you are watching this all unfold, somehow making sure that I do the right thing and that I don’t miss opportunities that come my way. Holly says that I give you too much credit … that God is the only one who can orchestrate our lives. Part of me believes it—I see Holly’s faith and there’s something so … true about it. But I guess I haven’t caught the bug or something. Yet you seem familiar t
o me—more familiar than God. Most of the time, God seems very far away.

  Anyway, my boyfriend’s name is Grant. We have been dating for nine months. I have known since we met that we would get married. It’s just a matter of when. Grant says he knows it too. He is so sweet and attentive. I am discovering that love doesn’t have to blindside you. It can be a sweet experience. Falling in love doesn’t have to feel like jumping off a cliff. It can feel like gliding on a porch swing: gentle and easy. Grant makes it easy for me to trust him. I can sit beside him and see our future spreading out in front of us, dependable and steady: kids, house, bills, the whole thing. We are blessed to have found each other.

  Someday I will come back here and tell you I am engaged. And then I will come and tell you about my wedding. And my first child. I see you sharing in my whole life and I am thankful that you are a part of it. It doesn’t seem like it happens until I tell you.

  Until next year,

  Lindsey

  Chapter 12

  Charlotte

  Summer 2004

  That night, long after Campbell’s mom fell asleep in the hotel suite’s king bed and he settled in the sofa bed, Campbell sat awake, surfing through TV channels with the sound turned off. In the next room, through the closed door, he could hear his mom softly snoring—something she always denied doing, but his father teased her about. Campbell wished that his father was there, that he could ask him what to do, how to be a good father in this situation.

  As he looked out the window, he saw the skyline of Charlotte. He felt further from home than he really was, miles from where he belonged, as though Charlotte were another country and not just a three-and-a-half-hour drive away. And yet, he was where he was supposed to be, where his father would want him: making amends for his own failures the best way he knew how. As he thought about Nikki, about the phone calls he would make in the morning and the certain argument he would have with Ellie when he mentioned taking her back to Sunset with him, somehow his thoughts, as they always did, wandered back to Lindsey.

  He knew that his feelings for her had always been wrapped up in his story, in the story of Ellie and Nikki and the choices he had made, one big tangled mess that he couldn’t escape. He thought of the irony that he had been called away from Sunset the very week he knew she would be there. He thought of how her yearly trip was also part of his story—he always knew she’d be there, but they always kept their distance. He had never run into Lindsey at the beach, and he knew it was intentional not only on his part, but on hers too.

  He clicked off the TV and stood, still wearing his khaki shorts but no shirt. He dug around on the floor and found the T-shirt he had worn all day, slipping it on and tiptoeing out of the room, pocketing the card key first.

  The hotel lobby was nearly deserted, save for a young couple sitting close together on the sofa, her leg draped across him, his arms wrapped around her. He thought about making a joke: “Get a room.” He doubted they would think it was funny. The front-desk clerk, a young, pimply faced kid who didn’t make eye contact when he checked them in earlier, glanced up from a gaming magazine as Campbell strolled through the lobby on his way to the “business center,” which was basically a glorified closet with one computer and a printer in it. The printer had a hand-lettered sign that read “All copies, 5 cents each.” The handwriting looked like a kindergartner wrote it, but he suspected it was the front-desk clerk’s penmanship.

  He logged on to the computer and accessed his email account, then skimmed through the emails he missed for the day—all work related except one note from a woman in his small group at church, who he knew would like to be more than friends. She asked him to have coffee, which, in the grown-up dating world was code for “Let’s meet somewhere that is not as formal as dinner and see if we’re compatible.”

  He didn’t feel like composing a reply to her, one that skillfully said, “I am not a jerk” but also “I am not interested, but please don’t take it personally because you are a great person.”

  He thought briefly about just writing her the truth: “Dear Veronica, you are really sweet and pretty and seem to be a lot of fun. In fact, because you are all of those things, you probably should not get involved with me. For character references who will verify this fact, please contact Ellie Kessler or Lindsey Adams. They will be happy to fill you in on the details of how I will not live up to your expectations. Sincerely, Campbell Forrester.”

  He pushed the thought away and scanned his contacts to find Michelle Parrish’s address, then plugged it into a new email form. Michelle, on the other hand, had been someone he had considered getting involved with. She was a counselor who used to go to his church. They had gone on a few dates before she moved away to start a new counseling center at a bigger church in another town. Though their relationship hadn’t worked out, they had stayed in touch. In the subject line, he typed “help” and in the body of the email he wrote:

  “Hey, it’s too late to call as I write this, but I need some help—some professional help—for my daughter. Please call me on my cell whenever you get this.”

  He hit Send and leaned back in the chair, satisfied that he had done something to get the ball rolling. He knew Michelle could help him formulate a plan of action, to make a case for him to take on the responsibility of taking Nikki home, to convince Ellie and Oz and even his mom that he could handle it. Never mind that he didn’t know if he could.

  As he stood up to make his way back to his room, his cell phone rang, the techno beat shattering the silence of the lobby. The happy couple looked his way, startled. He raised his hand in apology before snapping the phone open. Michelle, bless you.

  “Hey, that was fast,” he said.

  “What? Is this Campbell?” For the second time that day he had answered one of Ellie’s calls without checking first. A stellar way to start and end the day.

  “Oh, hey, Ellie. Yeah, it’s me,” he said. He exhaled loudly, not bothering to hide his frustration. Willing himself to sound kinder than he felt, he asked, “What’s up? Is Nikki okay?”

  She lowered her voice. “I’m sorry to call so late. I’m glad I didn’t wake you. Were you waiting on your girlfriend to call or something?”

  He detected the barest hint of jealousy in her voice. It was so like Ellie to not want him, yet not want anyone else to have him either.

  “No, nothing like that. I was making some inquiries … about Nikki, actually,” he said, wondering as he said it if it was a mistake to admit that yet. If she would pounce on him, accuse him of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, or degrade his efforts at being a father as being too little, too late. All accusations he probably deserved.

  “Oh, well, that’s why I called. I had to wait until Oz fell asleep. I didn’t want him to hear me, because I know he will disagree with what I am about to say. That’s why I didn’t want to discuss this at the hospital tomorrow with him around.”

  He found himself nodding as she spoke, even though she couldn’t see him.

  “I talked to Nikki tonight, and she told me that she asked you to take her back to Sunset with you.” He steeled himself for the onslaught of her rage, the how-could-you-tell-her-that-you-would-take-her-without-talking-to-me-first explosion. “And I just wanted to say that, actually, I think that’s a great idea. I think she needs some time with you and your mom, needs the slower pace of the beach. She could spend the month of August there and, depending on how things go, go to college at the end of the summer.”

  Campbell stood in silence for a moment, his mouth left open in utter shock. He exhaled again, this time out of sheer relief. He never expected it to be that easy.

  “I have to say, Ellie,” he answered, “I’m surprised to hear that. And I really do think that going with me will be best for her. And I am not just saying that because I want to be with her.” He paused for a moment, weighing whether to reveal his fear.
“Frankly, it scares me to death.”

  “The whole thing scares me, Campbell. Nikki needs help. She needs counseling.”

  He paused in the lobby, not wanting to lose the call by stepping into the elevator. With his back to the desk clerk, he thanked Ellie for letting him take her without a fight. “I won’t let you or Nikki down,” he promised her.

  “Oh, Campbell,” she replied, a trace of wistfulness in her voice, “you never have let me down. I did enough of that for the both of us. Just take care of her,” she said hurriedly, and then she was gone.

  w

  By the time Campbell arrived at the hospital the next morning, he had arranged for Nikki’s counseling at his church to begin the next day. Michelle agreed to make some phone calls and found a counselor who had specific training in dealing with teens with anorexia, a woman he had volunteered with at an event once, never realizing that in the future she could save the day. Although, over the years, he had grown used to God’s little coincidences, he wondered if God took distinct pleasure in those moments, if He rubbed His hands together in anticipation, enjoying the drama as it slowly unfolded.

  Ellie hugged Campbell’s mother, thanked her again for coming, then looked at him. Her eyes looked tired, weak, missing the storm that usually brewed within them.

  He followed Ellie into Nikki’s room. As he watched Ellie embrace Nikki, telling her good-bye through tears, he felt the closest thing to real love he had ever felt for Ellie. He grabbed the suitcase of Nikki’s things and followed Ellie, Nikki, and his mother—three women he’d be forever connected to—out to the parking lot. His mom cried a little as they pulled away; she, Nikki, and Campbell crammed into the front cab of his truck—his mother in the middle. A buffer. Nikki remained stoic, staring out the window. She sipped quietly on a Diet Coke he bought for her at a gas station, but otherwise she didn’t move.