dropped the paper to her lap. “When one is confronted with a random act of kindness that is neither expected nor ordinary, one is obligated to meet that kindness and exceed it if possible.”
“I’ve never heard anyone talk like that,” Ryan admitted, tilting his face to the setting sun.
“People should, though. And live by it as well.”
Ryan nodded, leaning back in the flower print cushion on the Adirondack chair. Silence fell over them as they watched a shrimp boat slide across the horizon.
“Can I tell you something?” Adrienne said.
Ryan angled to look at her.
“Meeting him, reading his letters . . . it’s changing me.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I don’t think I ever thought of love as a force, a thing that gives you power.”
Ryan chuckled.
“Sounds stupid, right?” Her eyes rolled.
“Not if it’s how you feel.” Ryan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Tell me about this force, Adrienne.”
She shrugged. “I can’t. It’s elusive.”
“Like the green flash?”
Adrienne had heard of the phenomenon that happened on the beach just as the sun set. A green flash, shooting across the horizon and lasting only a couple of seconds. She’d watched the sunset almost every night and had never seen it. “Maybe even more elusive than that. But I’ll keep watching for it. I had just about given up on love before the letters. I guess that’s how they’re changing me.”
Ryan leaned back, placed his head against the chair and shut his eyes. “Good. You need it.”
“Ryan!”
“What?”
“That’s . . . that’s not very nice to say.” The wind kicked up, annoying little fingerlings of air tossing her hair in too many directions. She gathered it at her nape and trapped the strands against the chair back.
“We’re friends, right? So I should be able to talk freely.” He paused for half a second. “You’re an amazing woman, Adrienne. Some dude is going to be lucky to snag you. But fact is, that jerk in Chicago really did a number on you. So if love is like the green flash, and you’ve started watching for it again, good for you. You needed it.”
Adrienne blinked, unsure what surprised her the most: the fact that she and Ryan were having this conversation or the fact that she kept surrounding herself with blunt people who apparently had no filter on their mouths. She sighed, leaned forward, shook her head violently, and let the wind have its way. “You’re right.”
“So, let those letters work their magic.”
Adrienne settled more deeply into her chair and closed her eyes, copying Ryan’s posture. “They are, Ryan. Believe me. They are.”
A drienne sat in the dark in the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. This was the smallest of the three bedrooms and, like the others, displayed circa 1930s wallpaper. The crown molding framing the room was painted white but had darkened as years rolled by and time left its mark. This would be the first bedroom she’d remodel, she decided. She had finished much of the downstairs, and it was time to begin the upstairs projects. But that’s not why she sat here now.
It had been two weeks since she had first met William Bryant and his irritating grandson. She had returned his letters, but not before making a copy, and then visited while Will was at work. William had invited her back. The two of them struck up a friendship, and she’d returned to visit him four times since. Over the course of time, Adrienne noticed something. He talked more about Sara than he did about Grace.
Adrienne forced Grace from her mind, but couldn’t erase Sara so easily. William spoke of her often. She’d heard so much about the sassy tomboy, she felt as though she knew her.
Plunked down on the bed with her arms spread wide, she closed her eyes and imagined her house a half century earlier. This was Sara’s room, she was sure. Sara was the sports lover, and Adrienne discovered marks on the wall in the corner of the room
“I’ve never heard anyone talk like that,” Ryan admitted, tilting his face to the setting sun.
“People should, though. And live by it as well.”
Ryan nodded, leaning back in the flower print cushion on the Adirondack chair. Silence fell over them as they watched a shrimp boat slide across the horizon.
“Can I tell you something?” Adrienne said.
Ryan angled to look at her.
“Meeting him, reading his letters . . . it’s changing me.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “I don’t think I ever thought of love as a force, a thing that gives you power.”
Ryan chuckled.
“Sounds stupid, right?” Her eyes rolled.
“Not if it’s how you feel.” Ryan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Tell me about this force, Adrienne.”
She shrugged. “I can’t. It’s elusive.”
“Like the green flash?”
Adrienne had heard of the phenomenon that happened on the beach just as the sun set. A green flash, shooting across the horizon and lasting only a couple of seconds. She’d watched the sunset almost every night and had never seen it. “Maybe even more elusive than that. But I’ll keep watching for it. I had just about given up on love before the letters. I guess that’s how they’re changing me.”
Ryan leaned back, placed his head against the chair and shut his eyes. “Good. You need it.”
“Ryan!”
“What?”
“That’s . . . that’s not very nice to say.” The wind kicked up, annoying little fingerlings of air tossing her hair in too many directions. She gathered it at her nape and trapped the strands against the chair back.
“We’re friends, right? So I should be able to talk freely.” He paused for half a second. “You’re an amazing woman, Adrienne. Some dude is going to be lucky to snag you. But fact is, that jerk in Chicago really did a number on you. So if love is like the green flash, and you’ve started watching for it again, good for you. You needed it.”
Adrienne blinked, unsure what surprised her the most: the fact that she and Ryan were having this conversation or the fact that she kept surrounding herself with blunt people who apparently had no filter on their mouths. She sighed, leaned forward, shook her head violently, and let the wind have its way. “You’re right.”
“So, let those letters work their magic.”
Adrienne settled more deeply into her chair and closed her eyes, copying Ryan’s posture. “They are, Ryan. Believe me. They are.”
A drienne sat in the dark in the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. This was the smallest of the three bedrooms and, like the others, displayed circa 1930s wallpaper. The crown molding framing the room was painted white but had darkened as years rolled by and time left its mark. This would be the first bedroom she’d remodel, she decided. She had finished much of the downstairs, and it was time to begin the upstairs projects. But that’s not why she sat here now.
It had been two weeks since she had first met William Bryant and his irritating grandson. She had returned his letters, but not before making a copy, and then visited while Will was at work. William had invited her back. The two of them struck up a friendship, and she’d returned to visit him four times since. Over the course of time, Adrienne noticed something. He talked more about Sara than he did about Grace.
Adrienne forced Grace from her mind, but couldn’t erase Sara so easily. William spoke of her often. She’d heard so much about the sassy tomboy, she felt as though she knew her.
Plunked down on the bed with her arms spread wide, she closed her eyes and imagined her house a half century earlier. This was Sara’s room, she was sure. Sara was the sports lover, and Adrienne discovered marks on the wall in the corner of the room
Similar Books
