The Lucky One - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,13

They’ve been trying to recruit another doctor, but it’s been hard. Not everyone wants to work in a small town, especially with the nearest hospital in Wilmington forty-five minutes away. Makes for much longer days. Half the time he doesn’t get home until almost eight. Sometimes it’s even later than that.”

Beth heard the worry in Melody’s voice, and she figured her friend was thinking about the affair David had confessed to last winter. Beth knew enough not to comment on it. She’d decided when she’d first heard the whispers that they would talk about it only if Melody wanted to. And if not? That was fine, too. It was none of her business.

“How about you, though? Have you been seeing anyone?”

Beth grimaced. “No. Not since Adam.”

“Whatever happened with that?”

“I have no idea.”

Melody shook her head. “I can’t say that I envy you. I never liked dating.”

“Yeah, but at least you were good at it. I’m terrible.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. But it’s not that big of a deal. I’m not sure I even have the energy for it anymore. Wearing thongs, shaving my legs, flirting, pretending to get along with his friends. The whole thing seems like a lot of effort.”

Melody wrinkled her nose. “You don’t shave your legs?”

“Of course I shave my legs,” she said. Then, lowering her voice, “Most of the time, anyway.” She sat up straighter. “But you get the point. Dating is hard. Especially for someone my age.”

“Oh, please. You’re not even thirty, and you’re a knockout.”

Beth had heard that for as long as she could remember, and she wasn’t immune to the fact that men—even married men—often craned their necks when she walked past them. In her first three years teaching, she’d had only one parent-teacher conference with a father who came alone. In every other instance, it was the mother who attended the conference. She remembered wondering aloud about it to Nana a few years back, and Nana had said, “They don’t want you alone with the hubbies because you’re as pretty as a tickled pumpkin.”

Nana always had a unique way of putting things.

“You forget where we live,” Beth offered. “There aren’t a lot of single men my age. And if they are single, there’s a reason.”

“That’s not true.”

“Maybe in a city. But around here? In this town? Trust me. I’ve lived here all my life, and even when I was in college, I commuted from home. On the rare occasions that I have been asked out, we’ll go on two or three dates and then they stop calling. Don’t ask me why.” She waved a hand philosophically. “But it’s no big deal. I’ve got Ben and Nana. It’s not like I’m living alone, surrounded by dozens of cats.”

“No. You’ve got dogs.”

“Not my dogs. Other people’s dogs. There’s a difference.”

“Oh yeah,” Melody snorted. “Big difference.”

Across the yard, Ben was trailing behind the group with his Super Soaker, doing his best to keep up, when he suddenly slipped and fell. His glasses tumbled off into the grass. Beth knew enough not to get up and see if he was okay: The last time she’d tried to help, he’d been visibly embarrassed. He felt around until he found his glasses and was up and running again.

“They grow up so fast, don’t they?” said Melody, interrupting Beth’s thoughts. “I know it’s a cliché, but it’s true. I remember my mom telling me they would and thinking she didn’t know what she was talking about. I couldn’t wait for Zach to get a little older. Of course, at the time, he had colic and I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours a night in over a month. But now, just like that, they’ll be starting middle school already.”

“Not yet. They’ve got another year.”

“I know. But it still makes me nervous.”

“Why?”

“You know . . . it’s a hard age. Kids are in that stage where they’re beginning to understand the world of adults, without having the maturity of adults to deal with everything going on around them. Add to that all the temptations, and the fact that they stop listening to you the way they once did, and the moods of adolescence, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not looking forward to it. You’re a teacher. You know.”

“That’s why I teach second grade.”

“Good choice.” Melody grew quiet. “Did you hear about Elliot Spencer?”

“I haven’t heard much of anything. I’ve been a hermit, remember?”

“He was caught selling drugs.”

“He’s only a couple of years older than Ben!”

“And still

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