The Notebook (The Notebook #1)(30)

They spent the day in each other’s arms, alternately making love by the fire and then holding each other as they watched the flames curl around the wood. Sometimes he recited one of his favorite poems as she lay beside him, and she would listen with her eyes closed and almost feel the words. Then, when they were ready, they would join again and he murmured words of love between kisses as they wrapped their arms around one another.

They went on throughout the evening, making up for their years apart, and slept in each other’s arms that night. Occasionally he would wake up and look at her, her body spent and radiant, and feel as if everything were suddenly right in this world.

Once, when he was looking at her in the moments before daybreak, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled and reached up to touch his face. He put his fingers to her lips, gently, to keep her from speaking, and for a long time they just looked at one another.

When the lump in his throat subsided, he whispered to her, “You are the answer to every prayer I’ve offered. You are a song, a dream, a whisper, and I don’t know how I could have lived without you for as long as I have. I love you, Allie, more than you can ever imagine. I always have, and I always will.”

“Oh, Noah,” she said, pulling him to her. She wanted him, needed him now more than ever, like nothing she’d ever known.





Courtrooms


Later that morning, three men—two lawyers and the judge—sat in chambers while Lon finished speaking. It was a moment before the judge answered.

“It’s an unusual request,” he said, pondering the situation. “It seems to me the trial could very well end today. Are you saying this urgent matter can’t wait until later this evening or tomorrow?”

“No, Your Honor, it can’t,” Lon answered almost too quickly. Stay relaxed, he told himself. Take a deep breath.

“And it has nothing to do with this case?”

“No, Your Honor. It’s of a personal nature. I know it’s out of the ordinary, but I really need to take care of it.” Good, better.

The judge leaned back in his chair, evaluating him for a moment. “Mr. Bates, how do you feel about this?”

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Hammond called me this morning and I’ve already spoken to my clients. They’re willing to postpone until Monday.”

“I see,” the judge said. “And do you believe it is in your clients’ best interests to do this?”

“I believe so,” he said. “Mr. Hammond has agreed to reopen discussion on a certain matter not covered by this proceeding.”

The judge looked hard at both of them and thought about it.

“I don’t like it,” he finally said, “not at all. But Mr. Hammond has never made a similar request before, and I assume the matter is very important to him.”

He paused for effect, then looked to some papers on his desk. “I’ll agree to adjourn until Monday. Nine o’clock sharp.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Lon said.

Two minutes later he was leaving the courthouse. He walked to the car he had parked directly across the street, got in, and began the drive to New Bern, his hands shaking.





An Unexpected Visitor


Noah made breakfast for Allie while she slept in the living room. Bacon, biscuits, and coffee, nothing spectacular. He set the tray beside her as she woke up, and as soon as they had finished eating, they made love again. It was relentless, a powerful confirmation of what they had shared the day before. Allie arched her back and cried out fiercely in the final tidal wave of sensations, then wrapped her arms around him as they breathed in unison, exhausted.

They showered together, and afterward Allie put on her dress, which had dried overnight. She spent the morning with Noah. Together they fed Clem and checked the windows to make sure no damage had been done in the storm. Two pine trees had blown over, though neither had caused much damage, and a few shingles had blown off the shed, but other than that, the property had escaped pretty much unscathed.

He held her hand most of the morning and the two talked easily, but sometimes he would stop speaking and just stare at her. When he did, she felt as though she should say something, but nothing meaningful ever came into her head. Lost in thought, she usually just kissed him.

A little before noon, Noah and Allie went in to prepare lunch. Both of them were starving again because they hadn’t eaten much the day before. Using what he had on hand, they fried some chicken and baked another batch of biscuits, and the two of them ate on the porch, serenaded by a mockingbird.

While they were inside doing the dishes, they heard a knock at the door. Noah left Allie in the kitchen.

Knock again.

“I’m coming,” Noah said.

Knock, knock. Louder.

He approached the door.

Knock, knock.

“I’m coming,” he said again as he opened the door. “Oh, my God.”

He stared for a moment at a beautiful woman in her early fifties, a woman he would have recognized anywhere.

Noah couldn’t speak.

“Hello, Noah,” she finally said. Noah said nothing.

“May I come in?” she asked, her voice steady, revealing nothing.

He stammered out a reply as she walked past him, stopping just before the stairs.

“Who is it?” Allie shouted from the kitchen, and the woman turned at the sound of her voice.