Diving with tears in her eyes was difficult, but she went on anyway, hoping that instinct would take her back to the inn. She kept the window rolled down, thinking the fresh air might help clear her mind, but it dido help. Nothing would help.
She was tired, and she wondered if she would have the energy she o talk to Lon. And what was she going to say? She still had no idea but hoped that something would e to her wheime came.
It would have to.
By the time she reached the drawbridge that led to Front Street, she had herself a little more under trol. Not pletely, but well enough, she thought, to talk to Lon. At least she hoped so.
Traffic was light, and she had time to watch strangers going about their business as she drove through New Bern. At a gas station, a meic was looking uhe hood of a new automobile while a man, presumably its owner, stood beside him. Two women were pushing baby carriages just outside Hoffman-Lane, chattiween themselves while they window-shopped. In front of Hearns Jewelers, a well-dressed man walked briskly, carrying a briefcase.
She made aurn and saw a young man unloading groceries from a truck that blocked part of the street. Something about the way he held himself, or the way he moved, reminded her of Noah harvesting crabs at the end of the dock.
She saw the inn just up the street while she was stopped at a red light. She took a deep breath when the light turned green and drove slowly until she reached the parking lot that the inn shared with a couple of other businesses. She turned in and saw Lons car sitting in the first spot. Although the oo it en, she passed it and picked a spot a little farther from the entrance.
She turhe key, and the eopped promptly. she reached into the glove partment for a mirror and brush, finding both sitting on top of a map of North Carolina. Looking at herself, she saw her eyes were still red and puffy. Like yesterday after the rain, as she examined her refle she was sorry she didnt have any makeup, though she doubted it would help muow. She tried pulling her hair ba one side, tried both sides, then finally gave up.
She reached for her pocketbook, ope, and once again looked at the article that had brought her here. So much had happened sihen; it was hard to believe it had been only three weeks. It felt impossible to her that she had arrived only the day before yesterday. It seemed like a lifetime since her dinner with Noah.
Starlings chirped irees arouhe clouds had begun to break up now, and Allie could see blue iween patches of white. The sun was still shaded, but she k would only be a matter of time. It was going to be a beautiful day.
It was the kind of day she would have liked to spend with Noah, and as she was thinking about him, she remembered the letters her mother had given her and reached for them.
She uhe packet and found the first letter he had written her. She began to open it, then stopped because she could imagine what was in it. Something simple, no doubt - things hed done, memories of the summer, perhaps some questions. After all, he probably expected an answer from her. Instead she reached for the last letter hed written, the one otom of the stack. The good-bye letter. This oerested her far more thahers. How had he said it? How would she have said it?
The envelope was thin. One, maybe two pages. Whatever he had written wasnt too long.
First, she tur over and checked the bao name, just