Dear John(11)

Even though I had no desire to spend time with more frat brothers, Savannah smiled at me with such warmth that the words were out before I could stop them.

“Sounds good. Let me go grab my board from the pier and I’ll be there in a bit.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Randy piped up. He took a step toward Savannah, but she ignored him.

“I’ll walk with you,” Savannah said, breaking away from the group. “It’s the least I can do.” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “See you all in a few, okay?”

We started toward the dune, where the stairs would lead us up to the pier. Her friends lingered for a minute, but when she fell in step beside me, they slowly turned and began making their way down the beach. From the corner of my eye, I saw the blonde turn her head and glance our way from beneath Brad’s arm. Randy did too, sulking. I wasn’t sure that Savannah even noticed until we’d walked a few steps.

“Susan probably thinks I’m crazy for doing this,” she said.

“Doing what?”

“Walking with you. She thinks Randy’s perfect for me, and she’s been trying to get us together since we got here this afternoon. He’s been following me around all day.”

I nodded, unsure how to respond. In the distance, the moon, full and glowing, had begun its slow rise from the sea, and I saw Savannah staring at it. When the waves crashed and spilled, they flared silver, as if caught in a camera’s flash. We reached the pier. The railing was gritty with sand and salt, and the wood was weathered and beginning to splinter. The steps creaked as we ascended.

“Where are you stationed?” she asked.

“In Germany. I’m home on leave for a couple of weeks to visit my dad. And you’re from the mountains, I take it?”

She glanced at me in surprise. “Lenoir.” She studied me. “Let me guess, my accent, right? You think I sound like I’m from the sticks, don’t you.”

“Not at all.”

“Well, I am. From the sticks, I mean. I grew up on a ranch and everything. And yes, I know I have an accent, but I’ve been told that some people find it charming.”

“Randy seemed to think so.”

It slipped out before I could catch myself. In the awkward silence, she ran a hand through her hair.

“Randy seems like a nice young man,” she remarked after a bit, “but I don’t know him that well. I don’t really know most of the people in the house all that well, except for Tim and Susan.” She waved a mosquito away. “You’ll meet Tim later. He’s a great guy. You’ll like him. Everybody does.”

“And you’re all down here on vacation for a week?”

“A month, actually—but no, it’s not really a vacation. We’re volunteering. You’ve heard of Habitat for Humanity, right? We’re down here to help build a couple of houses. My family’s been involved with it for years.”

Over her shoulder, the house seemed to be coming to life in the darkness. More people had materialized, the music had been turned up, and every now and then I could hear laughter. Brad, Susan, and Randy were already surrounded by a group of coeds drinking beer and looking less like do-gooders than college kids trolling for a good time and a chance to hook up with someone of the opposite sex. She must have noticed my expression and followed my gaze.

“We don’t start until Monday. They’ll find out soon enough that it’s not all fun and games.”

“I didn’t say anything. . . .”

“You didn’t have to. But you’re right. For most of them, it’s their first time working with Habitat, and they’re just doing it so they have something different to put on their résumé when they graduate. They have no idea how much work is actually involved. In the end, though, all that matters is that the houses get built, and they will. They always do.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Every summer since I was sixteen. I used to do it with our church, but when I went off to Chapel Hill, we started a group there. Well, actually, Tim started it. He’s from Lenoir, too. He just graduated and he’ll start on his master’s degree this fall. I’ve known him forever. Instead of spending the summer working odd jobs at home or doing internships, we thought we could offer students a chance to make a difference. Everyone chips in for the house and pays their own expenses for the month, and we don’t charge anything for the labor we do on the houses. That’s why it was so important that I get my bag back. I wouldn’t have been able to eat all month.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t have let you starve.”