Dear John(48)

I was wrong. I’d overreacted, and I knew it. Not just with her, but with the others on the beach. I should have simply walked away. Randy and his buddies, even if they lifted weights and considered themselves athletes, didn’t stand a chance against someone trained to disable people quickly and efficiently. Had it happened in Germany, I might have found myself locked up for what I’d done. The government wasn’t too fond of those who used government-acquired skills in ways the government didn’t approve.

So I’d left the note, then watched the clock all the next day, wondering if she would show. As the time I had suggested came and went, I found myself glancing compulsively over my shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief when a figure appeared in the distance. From the way it moved, I knew it had to be Savannah. I leaned against the railing as I waited for her.

She slowed her steps when she spotted me, then came to a stop. No hug, no kiss—the sudden formality made me ache.

“I got your note,” she said.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I had to sneak away so no one knew you were here,” she said. “I’ve overheard a few people talking about what they would do if you showed up again.”

“I’m sorry,” I plunged in without preamble. “I know you were just trying to help, and I took it the wrong way.”

“And?”

“And I’m sorry for what I did to Tim. He’s a great guy, and I should have been more careful.”

Her gaze was unblinking. “And?”

I shuffled my feet, knowing I wasn’t really sincere in what I was about to say, but knowing she wanted to hear it anyway. I sighed. “And Randy and the other guy, too.”

Still, she continued to stare. “And?”

I was stumped. I searched my mind before meeting her eyes. “And . . .” I trailed off.

“And what?”

“And . . .” I tried but couldn’t come up with anything. “I don’t know,” I confessed. “But whatever it is, I’m sorry for that, too.”

She wore a curious expression. “That’s it?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know what else to say,” I admitted.

It was half a second before I noticed the tiniest hint of a smile. She moved toward me. “That’s it?” she repeated, her voice softer. I said nothing. She came closer and, surprising me, slipped her arms around my neck.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she whispered. “There’s no reason to be sorry. I probably would have reacted the same way.”

“Then why the inquisition?”

“Because,” she said, “it let me know that I was right about you in the first place. I knew you had a good heart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said,” she answered. “Later—after that night, I mean—Tim convinced me that I had no right to say what I did. You were right. I don’t have the ability to do any sort of professional evaluation, but I was arrogant enough to think I did. As for what happened on the beach, I saw the whole thing. It wasn’t your fault. Even what happened to Tim wasn’t your fault, but it was nice to hear you apologize anyway. If only to know you could do it in the future.”

She leaned into me, and when I closed my eyes, I knew I wanted nothing more than to hold her this way forever.




Later, after we’d spent a good part of the night talking and kissing on the beach, I ran my finger along her jaw and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the book. I think I understand my dad a little better now. We had a good time last night.”

“I’m glad.”

“And thanks for being who you are.”

When she wrinkled her brow, I kissed her forehead. “If it wasn’t for you,” I added, “I wouldn’t have been able to say that about my dad. You don’t know how much that means to me.”




Though she was supposed to work at the site the following day, Tim had been understanding when she explained that it would be the last chance for us to see each other before I returned to Germany. When I picked her up, he walked down the steps of the house and squatted next to the car, at eye level with the window. The bruises had darkened to deep black. He stuck his hand through the window.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, John.”

“You too,” I said, meaning it.

“Keep safe, okay?”

“I’ll try,” I answered as we shook hands, struck by the feeling that there was a connection between us.

Savannah and I spent the morning at the Fort Fisher Aquarium, bewitched by the strange creatures displayed there. We saw gar with their long noses, and miniature sea horses; in the largest tank were nurse sharks and red drum. We laughed as we handled the hermit crabs, and Savannah bought me a souvenir key chain from the gift shop. For some strange reason there was a penguin on it, which amused her no end.