A Bend in the Road - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,56

As she gazed around the bedroom, she realized for the first time that they were surrounded by pictures of Missy, including one on the bedstand that she could reach out and touch.

Suddenly uneasy, she also spotted the manila file he’d mentioned before, the one filled with information he’d assembled after Missy died. It sat on the shelf, thick and well handled, and she found herself staring at it as her head rose and fell with every breath Miles took. Finally, when the silence between them began to feel oppressive, she slid her head onto the pillow to face him.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“You’re kind of quiet.”

“Just thinking,” he murmured.

“Good things, I hope.”

“Only the best.” He traced his finger down her arm. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

“Will you stay with me all night?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Very much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Though still a little unsettled, she let him pull her close. He kissed her again, then held her until she finally fell asleep. In the morning, when she woke, it took her a moment to realize where she was. Miles ran his finger along her spine and she felt her body begin to respond.

There was something different about their lovemaking this time, something that more closely resembled their first time together, tender and unrushed. It wasn’t just the way he kissed and whispered to her, but rather the way he looked as he moved above her that spoke of how serious their relationship had become.

That, and the fact that sometime while she’d been sleeping, Miles had quietly removed the pictures and the manila file that had cast their shadow over them the night before.

Chapter 15

I still don’t understand why I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet.”

Maureen and Sarah were in the grocery store, walking the aisles and filling the cart with everything they needed. To Sarah, it looked as if her mother planned to feed a few dozen people for at least a week.

“You will, Mom, in a few days. Like I said, he and Jonah will be coming by for dinner.”

“But wouldn’t he be more comfortable if he came over before that? So we could have a chance to get to know each other?”

“You’ll have plenty of time to get to know him, Mom. You know how Thanksgiving is.”

“But with everyone else around, it’s just not going to be possible to visit the way I’d like.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“And didn’t you say he has to leave early?”

“He has to go to work about four o’clock.”

“On a holiday?”

“He works Thanksgiving Day so he can have Christmas off. He’s a sheriff, you know. It’s not like they can let everyone take the day off.”

“So who’s going to watch Jonah?”

“I will. I’ll probably bring him back to Miles’s house. You know Dad—he’ll be sound asleep by six o’clock, and I’ll probably bring him home then.”

“So early?”

“Don’t worry. We’ll still be there all afternoon.”

“You’re right,” Maureen said. “It’s just that I’m a little frazzled from all this.”

“Don’t be worried, Mom. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

“Will there be other kids there?” Jonah asked.

“I don’t know,” Miles said. “There might be.”

“Boys or girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well... how old are they?”

Miles shook his head. “Like I said, I don’t know. I’m not even sure there will be other kids there, to tell you the truth. I forgot to ask.”

Jonah furrowed his brow. “But if I’m the only kid, what will I do?”

“Watch the football game with me?”

“That’s boring.”

Miles reached for his son, sliding him along the front seat until he was close.

“Well, we’re not going to be there all day, anyway, since I have to work. But we do have to visit at least for a little while. I mean, they were nice enough to invite us over, and it wouldn’t be polite to leave right after we eat. But maybe we can go for a walk or something.”

“With Miss Andrews?”

“If you’d like her to come.”

“Okay.” He paused, his head turned toward the window. They were rolling past a grove of loblolly pines. “Dad...do you think we’re having turkey?”

“I’m pretty sure we are. Why?”

“Will it taste funny? Like it did last year?”

“Are you saying you didn’t like my cooking?”

“It tasted funny.”

“It did not.”

“To me it did.”

“Maybe they’re better cooks than I am.”

“I hope so.”

“Are you picking on me?”

Jonah grinned. “Kind of. But it did taste funny, you know.”

Miles and Jonah pulled up in front of a two-story brick home and parked near the mailbox. The lawn had

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