Safe Haven - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,21

too bad,” she demurred.

“Maybe in nice weather. But today, you’d have to swim home. There’s no way you could have walked this far. And Kristen’s picture would have been ruined.”

He noted the flicker of a smile at Kristen’s name but she said nothing.

“Someone said you work at Ivan’s?” he prompted.

She nodded. “I started in March.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s okay. It’s just a job, but the owner has been good to me.”

“Ivan?”

“You know him?”

“Everyone knows Ivan. Did you know he dresses up like a Confederate general every fall to reenact the famed Battle of Southport? When Sherman burned the town? Which is fine, of course… except that there was never a Battle of Southport in the Civil War. Southport wasn’t even called Southport back then, it was called Smithville. And Sherman was never within a hundred miles of here.”

“Seriously?” Katie asked.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like Ivan—he’s a good man, and the restaurant is a fixture in this town. Kristen and Josh love the hush puppies there, and Ivan’s always welcoming whenever we show up. But sometimes, I’ve wondered what drives him. His family arrived from Russia in the fifties. First generation, in other words. No one in his extended family has probably even heard of the Civil War. But Ivan will spend an entire weekend pointing his sword and shouting orders right in the middle of the road in front of the courthouse.”

“Why have I never heard about this?”

“Because it’s not something the locals like to talk about. It’s kind of… eccentric, you know? Even locals, people who really like him, try to ignore him. They’ll see Ivan in the middle of downtown and they’ll turn away and start saying things like, Can you believe how beautiful those chrysanthemums are by the courthouse?”

For the first time since she’d been in the car, Katie laughed. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you’re here in October, you’ll see for yourself. But again, don’t get me wrong. He’s a nice guy and the restaurant is great. After a day at the beach, we almost always stop in there. Next time we come in, we’ll ask for you.”

She hesitated. “Okay.”

“She likes you,” Alex said. “Kristen, I mean.”

“I like her. She’s a bright spirit—a real personality.”

“I’ll tell her you said that. And thanks.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s five. When she starts school in the fall, I don’t know what I’m going to do. It’ll be so quiet around the store.”

“You’ll miss her,” Katie observed.

He nodded. “A lot. I know she’ll enjoy school, but I kind of like having her around.”

As he spoke, rain continued to sheet against the windows. The sky flashed on and off like a strobe, accompanied by an almost continuous rumble.

Katie peered out the passenger-side window, lost in her thoughts. He waited, somehow knowing she would break the silence.

“How long were you and your wife married?” Katie finally asked.

“Five years. We dated for a year before that. I met her when I was stationed at Fort Bragg.”

“You were in the army?”

“Ten years. It was a good experience and I’m glad I did it. At the same time, I’m glad I’m done.”

Katie pointed through the windshield. “There’s the turn up ahead,” she said.

Alex turned onto Katie’s road and slowed down. The rough gravel surface had flooded during the downpour, and water splashed up to the windows and over the windshield. As he focused on steering the car through the deep puddles, Alex was suddenly struck by the thought that this was the first time he’d been alone in a car with a woman since his wife had died.

“Which one is it?” he asked, squinting at the outline of two small cottages.

“The one on the right,” she said.

He turned into the makeshift drive and pulled as close to the house as he could. “I’ll bring the groceries to the door for you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t know the way I was raised,” he said, jumping out before she could object. He grabbed the bags and ran them to her porch. By the time he set them down and began to shake off, Katie was hurrying toward him, the umbrella Alex had lent her clutched in her hands.

“Thanks,” she called out over the noise of the downpour.

When she offered him the umbrella, he shook his head. “Keep it for a while. Or forever. It doesn’t matter. If you walk a lot around here, you’re going to need it.”

“I can pay you—” she began.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But this is from the

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