Nicholas Sparks - The Rescue

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “I just don’t like to talk about my father.”

She could have pressed it further but knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Once again silence descended in the truck. This time, however, the silence was tainted with fear. It lasted the rest of the way home.

After Taylor carried Kyle into his bedroom, he waited in the living room until Denise had changed him into his pajamas. When she came back out, she noticed that Taylor hadn’t made himself comfortable. Instead he was standing near the door, as if waiting to say good-bye.

“You’re not going to stay?” she asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “No, I really can’t. I’ve got to get to work early tomorrow.”

Though he said it without a trace of bitterness or anger, his words didn’t dispel her unease. He began to jingle his keys, and Denise walked across the living room to be closer to him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She reached for his hand. “Is something bothering you?”

Taylor shook his head. “No, not at all.”

She waited to see if he would add anything else, but he didn’t go any further.

“All right. See you tomorrow?”

Taylor cleared his throat before answering. “I’ll try, but I’ve got a pretty full schedule tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll be able to swing by.”

Denise studied him carefully, wondering.

“Even for lunch?”

“I’ll do my best,” he said, “but I can’t make any promises.”

Their eyes met only briefly before Taylor glanced away.

“Will you be able to take me into work tomorrow night?”

For a brief, flickering instant, it almost seemed to Denise as if he hadn’t wanted her to ask.

Her imagination?

“Yeah, sure,” he finally said. “I’ll take you in.”

He left after kissing her only briefly, then walked to his truck without turning around.

Early the next morning, while Denise was drinking a cup of coffee, the phone rang. Kyle was sprawled on the living room floor, coloring as best he could but finding it impossible to stay in the lines. When she answered it, she recognized Taylor’s voice instantly.

“Oh, hey, I’m glad you’re up,” he said.

“I’m always up this early,” she said, feeling a strange sense of relief wash over her at the sound of his voice. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you, too,” Taylor said. “I probably should have stayed. I didn’t sleep too well.”

“Neither did I,” she admitted. “I kept waking up because I had all the covers for once.”

“I don’t hog the sheets. You must be thinking of someone else.”

“Like who?”

“Maybe one of those men at the diner.”

“I don’t think so.” She chuckled. “Hey, are you calling because you’ve changed your mind about lunch?”

“No, I can’t. Not today. I’ll be by after I finish up to bring you into work, though.”

“How about an early supper?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll be able to make that, either, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a load of drywall coming in late, and I don’t think I’d be able to make it over in time.”

She turned in place, the phone cord going taut against her.

They make deliveries after five?

She didn’t say that, however. Instead she said brightly:

“Oh, all right. I’ll see you this evening.”

There was a longer pause than she thought there would be.

“Will do,” he finally answered.

“Kyle kept asking about you this afternoon,” Denise said casually.

Good to his word, Taylor was waiting in the kitchen as she collected the last of her things, though he hadn’t come by with much time to spare before she had to head off. They’d kissed only briefly, and he seemed a little more distant than usual, though he’d apologized for it, attributing it to the hassles at the work site.

“Oh, yeah? Where is the little guy?”

“Out back. I don’t think he heard you come up. Let me go get him.”

After Denise opened the back door and called for him, Kyle came running for the house. A moment later he burst inside.

“Hewwo, Tayer,” he said, a big grin on his face. Ignoring Denise, he surged toward Taylor and jumped. Taylor caught him easily.

“Hey, little man. How was your day?”

Denise couldn’t help but notice the difference in Taylor’s demeanor as he lifted Kyle up to eye level.

“He’s here!” Kyle shouted gleefully.

“Sorry I was so busy today,” Taylor said, clearly meaning it. “Did you miss me, little man?”

“Yes,” he answered. “I missed you.”

It was the first time he’d answered a new question properly, without being told how to do it, shocking both of them into silence.

And for just a second, Denise’s worries from the night before were forgotten.

If Denise expected that Kyle’s simple statement would alleviate her concerns about Taylor, however, she was mistaken.

Not that it went bad right away. In fact, in many ways things didn’t seem much different at all, at least for the next week or so. Though Taylor-still citing work as the reason-had stopped coming by in the afternoons, he nonetheless continued to drive Denise to and from the diner. They’d also made love the night Kyle had spoken.

Yet things were changing, that much seemed obvious. Nothing dramatic; it was more like the unwinding of twine, a gradual unfurling of everything that had been established during the summer. Less time together meant less time to simply hold each other or talk, and because of that, it was difficult for her to ignore the warning bells that had sounded the night they’d had dinner with Mitch and Melissa.

Even now, a week and a half later, the things that had been said that night still troubled her, but at the same time, she honestly wondered if she was making too much of the whole thing. Taylor hadn’t really done anything wrong, so to speak, and that’s what made his recent behavior difficult to figure out. He denied that anything was bothering him, he hadn’t raised his voice; they still hadn’t even had an argument. On Sunday they spent the afternoon on the river, as they’d done numerous times before. He was still great with Kyle, and more than once he’d reached for her hand as he drove her into work. On the surface, everything seemed the same. All that had really changed was a suddenly intense devotion to work, which he’d already explained. Yet . . .

Yet, what?

Sitting on the porch while Kyle played with his trucks in the yard, Denise tried to put her finger on it. She’d been around long enough to know something about the pattern of relationships. She knew that the initial feelings associated with love were almost like an ocean wave in their intensity, acting as the magnetic force that drew two people together. It was possible to be washed away in the emotion, but the wave wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t-nor was it meant to be-but if two people were right for each other, a truer kind of love could last forever in its wake. At least, that’s what she believed.

With Taylor, however, it almost seemed as if he’d been caught in the wave, unaware of what might be left behind, and now that he realized it, he was trying to fight his way back against the current. Not all the time . . . but some of the time, and that’s what she seemed to be noticing lately. It was almost as if he were using work as an excuse to avoid the new realities of their situation.

Of course, if people start looking for something in particular, they’re more likely to find it, and she hoped that was the case now. It might simply be that Taylor was preoccupied by work, and his reasons seemed genuine enough. At night, after picking her up, he looked tired enough for Denise to know that he wasn’t lying to her about working all day.

So she kept as busy as she could, doing her best not to dwell on what might be happening between them. While Taylor seemed to be losing himself in his work, Denise threw herself into her work with Kyle with renewed energy. Now that he was speaking more, she began working on more complex phrases and ideas, while also teaching him other skills associated with school. One by one she began to teach him simple directions, and she worked with him to improve his coloring. She also introduced the concept of numbers, which seemed to make no sense to him whatever. She cleaned the house, she worked her shifts, she paid her bills-in short, she lived her life much the same as she had before she’d met Taylor McAden. But even though it was a life she was used to, she nonetheless spent most of the afternoons looking out the kitchen window, hoping to see him coming up the drive.

Usually, however, he didn’t.

Despite herself, she heard Melissa’s words once more.

All I know is that one day they seemed to be doing fine and the next thing you knew, it was over.

Denise shook her head, forcing the thought away. Though she didn’t want to believe that about him-or them-it was getting more and more difficult not to do so. Incidents like yesterday’s only reinforced her doubts.

She’d taken a bike ride with Kyle to the house Taylor was working on and had seen his truck parked out front. The owners were remodeling everything inside-the kitchen, the bathrooms, the living room-and the huge pile of scrap wood that had been torn from the interior of the house served as evidence that the project was a large one. Yet when she’d popped her head in to say hello, she’d been told by his employees that Taylor was out back, under the tree, eating his lunch. When she finally found him, he looked almost guilty, as if she’d caught him doing something wrong. Kyle, oblivious of his expression, ran over to him and Taylor stood to greet them.

“Denise?”

“Hey, Taylor. How are you?”

“Fine.” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I was just having a quick bite to eat,” he said.

His lunch had come from Hardee’s, which meant he’d had to drive past her house to the far side of town in order to buy it.