The Choice

With the moon still high in the sky and the silver light illuminating the bedroom, Travis rolled over, knowing instantly that Gabby was gone. It was almost four in the morning, and after noting that she wasn’t in the bathroom, he got up and slipped on his jeans. He walked down the hall and peeked into the guest bedroom before poking his head into the kitchen. All the lights were off, and he hesitated for a moment before noticing that the sliding glass door was cracked open.

He stepped out onto the small deck, catching sight of a shadowed figure leaning against the deck railing off to the side of the house. He took a hesitant step toward her, unsure if she wanted to be alone.

“Hey,” he heard a voice call out in the darkness. Travis saw she was wearing the bathrobe that had been hanging in the bathroom.

“Hey there,” he answered quietly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I woke up and tossed and turned for a while, but I didn’t want to wake you.”

Stopping just short of her, he leaned against the rail as well, neither of them speaking. Instead, they simply watched the sky. Nothing seemed to be stirring; even the crickets and frogs were silent.

“It’s so lovely out here,” she finally said.

“Yes, it is,” he answered.

“I love nights like this.”

When she said nothing else, he moved closer and reached for her hand. “Are you upset by what happened?”

“Not at all,” she said, her voice clear. “I don’t regret any of it.”

He smiled. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about my dad,” she mused, leaning into him. “In a lot of ways, he reminds me of you. You’d like him.”

“I’m sure I would,” he said, uncertain where the conversation was going.

“I was thinking about the way he must have felt when he met my mom for the first time. What was going through his mind when he saw her, whether he was nervous, what he said when he approached her.”

Travis stared at her. “And?”

“I have no idea.”

When he laughed, she looped her arm through his. “Is the hot tub at your place still warm?” she asked.

“Should be. I haven’t checked it, but I’m sure it’s okay.”

“Do you want to go for a dip?”

“I’d have to get my suit, but that sounds great.”

She squeezed him tight against her, then leaned toward his ear. “Who said you needed a suit?”

Travis said nothing as they crossed the yard to his hot tub. As he lifted off the cover, he saw her bathrobe slip from her shoulders and glimpsed her naked body, knowing how much he loved her and that these last couple of days were somehow going to mark his life forever.

Fourteen

Though they both returned to work on Monday, over the next two days Travis and Gabby spent every free moment together. They made love on Monday morning before work, had lunch together at a small, family-owned café in Morehead City, and that evening, with Molly feeling better, they took both dogs for a walk on the beach near Fort Macon. As they walked, holding hands, Moby and Molly wandered the beach ahead like two old friends who’d grown used to their differences. When Moby chased terns and charged toward flocks of seagulls, Molly would hold her course, acting as if she wanted no part of it. After a while, Moby would realize that Molly was no longer alongside him and would bound back to her, and the two would trot happily together until Moby went nuts again and the whole thing repeated itself.

“That’s kind of like the way we are, huh?” Gabby remarked as she squeezed Travis’s hand. “One always chasing excitement, the other holding back?”

“Which one am I?”

She laughed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Stopping, he took her in his arms, amazed and terrified by the strength of his feelings. But when she lifted her face to kiss him, he felt his fears begin to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of completion. He wondered whether love felt like this for everyone.

Afterward, they stopped at the grocery store. Neither of them was very hungry, so Travis picked up the makings for a chicken Caesar salad. In the kitchen, he grilled the chicken and watched Gabby rinse the lettuce leaves at the sink. Curled up on the couch after dinner, Gabby told Travis more about her family, arousing a mixture of sympathy for Gabby and anger at her mother for failing to recognize what an incredible woman Gabby had become. That night, they lay intertwined in each other’s arms until long after midnight.

On Tuesday morning, Travis was at her side just as she was beginning to stir. She cracked open an eye.

“Is it time to get up?”

“I guess so,” he mumbled.

They lay facing each other without moving before Travis went on. “You know what sounds good? Fresh coffee and a cinnamon roll.”

“Yum,” she said. “Too bad we don’t have time. I’ve got to be at the office at eight. You shouldn’t have kept me awake so long last night.”

“Just close your eyes and wish real hard, and maybe your wish will come true.”

Too tired to do anything else, she did what he suggested, longing for just another couple of minutes in bed.

“And there it is!” she heard him say.

“What?” she mumbled.

“Your coffee. And a cinnamon roll.”

“Don’t tease me. I’m starved.”

“It’s right there. Roll over and see for yourself.”

She struggled to sit up and saw two steaming cups of coffee and a mouthwatering cinnamon roll on a plate on the nightstand.

“When did you . . . I mean, why did you . . . ?”

“A few minutes ago.” He grinned. “I was awake anyway, so I raced downtown.”

She reached for both the coffees and handed one to him, smiling. “I’d kiss you right now, but this smells great and I’m starved. I’ll kiss you later.”

“In the shower, maybe?”

“There’s always a catch with you, isn’t there?”

“Be nice. I just brought you breakfast in bed.”

“I know,” she said with a wink. She reached for her roll. “And I’m going to enjoy it.”

On Tuesday evening, Travis took Gabby out on the boat, where they watched the sun go down from the waters off Beaufort. Gabby had been quiet ever since she’d returned home from work, which was why he’d suggested it; it was his way of trying to put off the conversation he knew was coming.

An hour later, seated on Travis’s deck with Molly and Moby lying at their feet, Travis finally gave in to the inevitable.

“What’s going to happen next?” he asked.

Gabby rotated the water glass in her hands. “I’m not sure,” she said in a low voice.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“It’s not that simple.” She shook her head. “I’ve been trying all day to figure it out, and I’m still not sure what I’m going to do, or even what I’m going to say to him.”

“You’re going to tell him about us, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I really don’t.” She turned to Travis, her eyes filled with tears. “Don’t get mad at me. Please don’t. Believe me when I say that I know how this makes you feel, because it makes me feel the same way. In the last few days, you’ve made me feel . . . alive. You make me feel beautiful and intelligent and wanted, and no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to tell you how much that’s meant to me. But as intense as all this has been, as much as I care about you, we’re not the same people, and you’re not facing the same kind of decision that I am. For you, it’s easy—we love each other, so we should be together. But Kevin is important to me, too.”

“What about all those things you said?” Travis asked, trying not to sound as scared as he felt.

“He’s not perfect, Travis. I know that. And no, things aren’t great between us right now. But I can’t help thinking that it’s partly my fault. Can’t you see that? With him, I have all these expectations, but with you . . . I don’t have any

. And if you reversed the equation, would any of this have even happened? What if I had expected you to marry me, but with him, I just allowed myself to enjoy being in the moment? You wouldn’t have given me the time of day, and most likely I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Her smile was pained. “That’s what I was thinking about today, even though it hurts me to say it. I love you, Travis, I really do. If I thought of this as a weekend fling, I’d put it behind me now and then go back to imagining a future with Kevin. But it’s not going to be that easy. I have to make a choice between the two of you. With Kevin, I know what to expect. Or at least until you came along, I thought I did. But now . . .”

She paused, and Travis could see her hair moving slightly in the breeze. She hugged her arms tightly to her body.

“We’ve only known each other for a few days, and while we were on the boat, I found myself wondering how many other women you’d taken out like that. Not because I was jealous, but because I kept asking myself what brought those relationships to an end. And then I started wondering whether you would feel the same way about me in the future as you do right now, or whether this will just end up like all your previous relationships. As much as we think we know each other, we don’t. Or at least, I don’t. All I know is that I fell in love with you, and I’ve never been more frightened about anything in my entire life.”

She stopped. Travis stayed silent, letting her words penetrate before saying anything.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “Your choice is different from mine. But you’re wrong if you think this was just a fling for me. I might have started out thinking along those lines, but . . .” He reached for her hand. “That’s not how it ended up. Spending time with you showed me what I’ve been missing in my life. The more time we spent together, the more I could imagine it lasting in the future. That’s never happened to me before, and I’m not sure it’ll ever happen again. I’ve never been in love with anyone before you came along—not real love, anyway. Not like this, and I’d be a fool if I let you slip away without a fight.”

He ran a hand through his hair, drained.

“I don’t know what else I can tell you, other than that I can imagine spending the rest of my life with you. I know that sounds crazy. I know we’re just getting to know each other, and even admitting what I just did might make you think I’m nuts, but I’ve never been more sure about anything. And if you give me a chance—if you give us a chance—I’m going to live the rest of my life proving to you that you made the right decision. I love you, Gabby. And not just for the person you are, but for the way you make me think that we can be.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. In the darkness, Gabby could hear the crickets calling from the foliage. Her mind was whirling—she wanted to run away, and she wanted to stay here forever, her warring instincts a reflection of the impossible bind she’d gotten herself into.

“I like you, Travis,” she said earnestly. Then, realizing how it sounded, she struggled on. “And I love you, too, of course, but hopefully you already know that. I was just trying to tell you that I like the way you talk to me. I like the fact that when you say something, I know that you really mean it. I like the fact that I can tell when you’re teasing or telling the truth and when you’re not. It’s one of your more endearing qualities.” She patted his knee. “Now will you do something for me?”

“Of course,” he said.

“No matter what I ask?”

He hesitated. “Yeah . . . I guess.”

“Will you make love to me? And not think it might be the last time it ever happens?”

“That’s two things.”

She didn’t dignify his answer with a response. Instead, she held out her hand to him. As they moved toward the bedroom, she broke into the tiniest of smiles, finally knowing what she had to do.

Part Two

Fifteen

February 2007

Travis tried to shake free of those memories from nearly eleven years ago, wondering why they’d resurfaced with such clarity. Was it because he was now old enough to realize how unusual it was to fall in love so quickly? Or simply because he missed the intimacy of those days? He didn’t know.

Lately, it seemed he didn’t know a lot of things. There were people who claimed to have all the answers, or at least the answers to the big questions of life, but Travis had never believed them. There was something about the assurance with which they spoke or wrote that seemed self-justifying. But if there were one person who could answer any question, Travis’s question would be this: How far should a person go in the name of true love?

He could pose the question to a hundred people and get a hundred different answers. Most were obvious: A person should sacrifice, or accept, or forgive, or even fight if need be . . . the list went on and on. Still, even though he knew that all these answers were valid, none would help him now. Some things were beyond understanding. Thinking back, he recalled events he wished he could change, tears he wished had never been shed, time that could have been better spent, and frustrations he should have shrugged off. Life, it seemed, was full of regret, and he yearned to turn back the clock so he could live parts of his life over again. One thing was certain: He should have been a better husband. And as he considered the question of how far a person should go in the name of love, he knew what his answer would be. Sometimes it meant a person should lie.

And soon, he had to make his choice as to whether he would.

The fluorescent lights and white tile underscored the sterility of the hospital. Travis moved slowly down the corridor, certain that even though he’d spotted Gabby earlier, she hadn’t seen him. He hesitated, steeling himself to head over and talk to her. It was the reason he’d come, after all, but the vivid parade of memories earlier had drained him. He stopped, knowing a few more minutes to collect his thoughts wouldn’t make any difference.

He ducked into a small reception room and took a seat. Watching the steady, rhythmic movement in the corridor, he realized that despite the never-ending emergencies, the staff had a routine here, much as he had his own routines at home. It was inevitable for people to try to create a sense of normalcy in a place where nothing was normal. It helped one get through the day, to add predictability to a life that was inherently unpredictable. His mornings were a case in point, for every one was the same. Six-fifteen alarm; a minute to get out of bed and nine minutes in the shower, another four minutes to shave and brush his teeth, and seven minutes to get dressed. A stranger could set a watch by following his shadowed movements through his windows. After that, he’d hurry downstairs to pour cereal; he’d check backpacks for homework and make peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for lunches while his sleepy daughters ate their breakfast. At exactly quarter past seven, they’d troop out the door and he’d wait with them at the end of the driveway for the school bus to arrive, driven by a man whose Scottish accent reminded him of Shrek. After his daughters got on and settled into their seats, he’d smile and wave, just as he was supposed to. Lisa and Christine were six and eight, a bit young for first and third grade, and as he watched them venture out to start another day, he often felt his heart clench with worry. Perhaps that was common—people always said that parenting and worrying were synonymous—but recently his worries had grown more pronounced. He dwelled on things he never had before. Little things. Ridiculous things. Was Lisa laughing at cartoons as much as she used to? Was Christine more subdued than normal? Sometimes, as the bus would pull away, he would find himself replaying the morning over and over, searching for clues to their well-being. Yesterday he had spent half the day wondering whether Lisa had been testing him by making him tie her shoes or whether she had just been feeling lazy. Even though he knew he was bordering on obsession, when he’d crept to their rooms last night to adjust their strewn-about blankets, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering whether the nighttime restlessness was new or something he’d just ne

ver noticed before.

It shouldn’t have been like this. Gabby should have been with him; Gabby should have been the one tying shoes and adjusting the blankets. She was good at things like that, as he’d known she would be from the very beginning. He remembered that in the days that followed their first weekend together, he would find himself studying Gabby, knowing on some deep level that even if he spent the rest of his life looking, he’d never find a better mother or more perfect complement to him. The realization often hit in the strangest of places—while pushing the cart in the fruit aisle of the grocery store or standing in line to buy movie tickets—but whenever it happened, it made something as simple as taking her hand an exquisite pleasure, something both momentous and gratifying.

Their courtship hadn’t been quite as uncomplicated for her. She was the one torn between two men vying for her love. “A minor inconvenience,” was the way he described it at parties, but he often wondered when exactly her feelings for him finally overwhelmed those she’d had for Kevin. Was it when they sat beside each other, gazing at the nighttime sky, and she quietly began naming the constellations she recognized? Or was it the following day, when she held him tight as they rode on the motorcycle before their picnic? Or was it later that evening, when he took her in his arms?

He wasn’t sure; capturing a specific instant like that was no more possible than locating a specific drop of water in the ocean. But the fact remained that it left Gabby to explain the situation to Kevin. Travis could remember her pained expression on the morning she knew Kevin would be arriving back in town. Gone was the certainty that had guided them the previous days; in its place was the reality of what lay ahead for her. She barely touched her breakfast; when he kissed her good-bye, she responded with only the flicker of a smile. The hours had crawled by without word, and Travis busied himself at work and made calls to find homes for the puppies, knowing it was important to her. Eventually, after work, Travis went to check on Molly. As if sensing she’d be needed later, she didn’t return to the garage after he let her out. Instead, she lay in the tall marsh grass that fronted Gabby’s property, staring toward the street as the sun sank lower in the sky.