The Mailbox by Marybeth Whalen

Author:Marybeth Whalen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: David C. Cook
Published: 2011-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Sunset Beach

Summer 2004

Lindsey sat on the beach with her novel open while her children played, but she was distracted. Once again, she had made no progress in the story. And once again, thoughts of Campbell and Minerva stole her attention. She pondered the challenge Minerva gave her: Just walk down his street one evening. She imagined walking down his street, wearing—what?—her most flattering denim capris and a tank top that actually looked good on her with the weight she had lost since Grant left. Her hair should be in a ponytail so the beach gusts didn’t blow it in her face, causing her to fiddle with it awkwardly as she was apt to do, while she talked to … him. She wondered if he still smelled like she remembered, a combination of salt air, sunscreen, and deeply tanned skin. After that first summer, he let her take a T-shirt of his home so she could inhale his scent buried in its fibers. She wondered whatever happened to that shirt. Her mother probably threw it out as soon as she left for college.

She tried to imagine herself slowing as she reached his house just long enough for Minerva to see her and push him nonchalantly out the door. She practiced looking shocked to see him. Would she say, “Oh, wow, you live here? I totally forgot!” Or would that be too obviously untrue? She tried to picture what he would look like now, but all that came to mind was him … then. Campbell skipping shells over the water. Campbell fishing off the pier, his wrist deftly casting the rod from years of practice. Campbell helping her cross Mad Inlet as they made their way to the mailbox, his hand reaching out to her, the sun glinting on his hair, lighting him up like an angel God sent straight to her. Snapshots her mind stored all those years. All images she thought she had let go of forever.

Her thoughts were racing. He wasn’t married! He still lived here! Deep down she wanted to run to him, to burst through his door and say all the things she never got to say, to hopefully hear him say how sorry he was for ever letting her go. She caught herself short, scolding herself for reacting like a lovesick teenager. Hadn’t nearly twenty years gone by? Had she grown up at all? She grinned stupidly and checked her watch. Nearly five o’clock. For Minerva’s little plan to work tonight, she needed to make it back to the house, feed the kids, and then leave for her “no big deal, I do this all the time” walk.

She dusted off her hands and stood up, waving dramatically at the children until they saw her and dragged themselves out of the water, looking bereft. “Time to go!” she called merrily, trying to sound like leaving in the middle of all their fun was the best idea she had all day. “I’ll bet you guys

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