Thibault took a sip of his beer. When he put the bottle back on the table, he described his encounters with her ex. As he told the story, her expression changed from disgusted to amused, finally settling into something resembling concern.

"You should have told me earlier," she said, frowning.

"I didn't get concerned until he broke into my house."

"And you really think he's capable of setting you up?"

"You know him better than I do."

She realized she wasn't hungry anymore. "I thought I did."

Because Ben was with his father-a situation that felt somewhat surreal to both of them considering the circumstances-Thibault and Elizabeth went to Raleigh on Saturday, which made it easy to avoid dwelling on what Keith Clayton might or might not do. In the afternoon, they had lunch at a sidewalk cafe downtown and visited the Museum of Natural History; on Saturday evening, they made their way to Chapel Hill. North Carolina was playing Clemson, and the game was being broadcast on ESPN. Though the game was in South Carolina, the bars downtown were packed, full of students watching it on giant flat-screen televisions. As Thibault heard them cheering and booing, as if the future of the world hung on the outcome of the game, he found himself thinking about the kids their age serving in Iraq and wondered what they would make of these college students.

They didn't stay long. After an hour, Elizabeth was ready to leave. On their way back to the car, as they walked with their arms around each other, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"That was fun," she said. "But it was so loud in there."

"You just say that because you're getting old."

She squeezed his waist, liking the fact that there was nothing but skin and muscle there. "Watch it, bub, or you might not get lucky tonight."

"Bub?" he repeated.

"It's a term of endearment. I say it to all the guys I date."

"All of them?"

"Yep. Strangers, too. Like if they give me their seat on the bus, I might say, 'Thanks, bub.'"

"I guess I should feel special."

"And don't you forget it."

They walked among the throngs of students on Franklin Street, peeking in windows and soaking up the energy. It made sense to Thibault that she'd wanted to come here. This was an experience she'd missed because of Ben. Yet what impressed him most was that although she was obviously enjoying herself, she didn't seem wistful or bitter about what she'd missed. If anything, she acted more like an observant anthropologist, intent on studying newfound cultures. When he said as much, she rolled her eyes.

"Don't ruin the evening. Trust me, I'm not thinking that deep. I just wanted to get out of town and have some fun."

They went to Thibault's and stayed up late, talking and kissing and making love well into the night. When Thibault woke in the morning, he found Elizabeth lying beside him, studying his face.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

"Watching you," she said.

"Why?"

"I wanted to."

He smiled as he ran a finger over her arm, feeling a surge of gratitude for her presence in his life. "You're pretty awesome, Elizabeth."

"I know."

That's it? You're just going to say, 'I know'?" he demanded in mock outrage.

"Don't get needy on me. I hate needy guys."

"And I'm not sure I like women who hide their feelings."

She smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "I had a great time yesterday."

"I did, too."

"I mean it. These last few weeks, being with you, have been the best weeks of my life. And yesterday, just being with you,, -…; you have no idea what that was like. Just being… a woman. Not a mother, not a teacher, not a granddaughter. Just me. It's been a long time since that has happened."

"We've gone out before."

"I know. But it's different now."

She was talking about the future, he knew, a future that had acquired a clarity and purpose it never had before. Staring at her, he knew exactly what she meant.

"So what's next?" he asked, his tone serious.

She kissed him again, her breath on his lips warm and moist. "Next is getting up. You have to be at the church in a couple of hours." She swatted him on the hip.

"That's a lot of time."

"Maybe for you. But I'm here and my clothes are at home. You've got to get up and start getting ready, so I have time to get ready."

"This church stuff is tough."

"Sure," she said. "But it's not like you have an option. And by the way?" She reached for his hand before going on. "You're pretty awesome, too, Logan."

Chapter 23

Beth

I really like him, Nana," said Beth.

Standing in the bathroom, she was doing her best with the curling iron, though she suspected that in the rain, all would be for naught. After a brief respite the day before, the first of the two tropical storms that were expected had entered the area.

"I think it's time you start being honest with me. You don't just like him. You think he's the One."

"I'm not that obvious," Beth said, not wanting to believe it.

"Yes, you are. You might as well be sitting on the front porch picking petals off a daisy."

Beth grinned. "Believe it or not, I actually understood that metaphor."

Nana waved her off. "Accidents happen. The point is, I know you like him. The question is, does he like you?"

"Yes, Nana."

"Have you asked what that means?"

"I know what it means."

"Just making sure," she said. She glanced in the mirror and adjusted her hair. "Because I like him, too."

She drove with Nana toward Logan's house, worried that her wipers couldn't keep up with the rain. Seemingly endless storms had swelled the river; though the water didn't quite reach the street, it was almost lapping at its edges. A few more daysofthis, j -she thought, and roads would begin closing. Businesses closest to the river would soon be stacking sandbags to prevent water from ruining low-lying merchandise.

"I wonder if anyone is going to make it to the church today," Beth remarked. "I can barely see beyond my window."

"A little rain won't keep people away from the Lord," Nana intoned.

"It's more than a little rain. Have you seen the river?"

"I saw it. It's definitely angry."

"If it gets any higher, we might not be able to make it into town."

"It'll all work out," she declared.

Beth glanced across at her. "You're in a good mood today."

"Aren't you? Since you stayed out all night?"

"Nana," Beth protested.

"I'm not judging. Just mentioning. You're an adult and it's your life."

Beth had long grown used to her grandmother's pronouncements. "I appreciate that."

"So it's going well? Even with your ex trying to cause trouble?"

"I think so."

"Do you think he's a keeper?"

"I think it's a little early to even consider something like that. We're still getting to know each other."

Nana leaned forward and wiped at the condensation on the window. Though the moisture disappeared momentarily, fingerprint smudges remained. "I knew right away that your grandfather was the One."

"He told me that the two of you dated for six months before he proposed."

"We did. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't have said yes earlier. I knew within a few days that he was the one for me. I know how crazy that sounds. But being with him was like toast and butter from the very beginning.''

Her smile was gende, her eyes half-c losed, as she remembered. "I was sitting with him in the park. It must have been the second or third time we'd ever been alone, and we were talking about birds when a young boy, obviously from out in the county, wandered up to listen. His face was dirty, he didn't have shoes, and his clothes, as ragged as they were, didn't even fit him. Your grandfather winked at him before going on, as if to tell the boy he was welcome to stay, and the boy kind of smiled. It touched me to think that he didn't pass judgment based on the way the boy looked." She paused. "Your grandfather kept on talking. He must have known the name of every kind of bird in this part of the state. He'd tell us whether they migrated and where they nested, and the sound of their calls. After a while, this young boy sat right down and just stared as your grandfather made everything sound… well, enchanting. And it wasn't just the young boy. I felt it, too. Your grandfather had this soothing, lullaby like voice, and while he talked, I got the sense that he was the kind of person who couldn't hold anger for more than a few minutes, because it just wasn't in him. It could never grow into resentment or bitterness, and I knew then that he was the kind of man who would be married forever. And I decided then and there that I should be the one to marry him."

Despite her familiarity with Nana's stories, Beth was moved.

"That's a wonderful story."

"He was a wonderful man. And when a man is that special, you know it sooner than you think possible. You recognize it instinctively, and you're certain that no matter what happens, there will never be another one like him."

By that point, Beth had reached Logan's graveled drive, and as she turned in and approached the house, bouncing and splashing through the mud, she caught sight of him standing on the porch, dressed in what seemed to be a new sport jacket and a pair of freshly pressed chinos. When hp waved, she couldn't suppress an ear-to-ear smile.

The service began and ended with music. Nana's solo was greeted with hearty applause, and the pastor singled out both Logan and Nana, thanking Logan for fiUing in at the last minute and Nana for demonstrating the wonder of God's grace in the face of a challenge.