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Acknowledgments

Okay, I’ll be honest It’s soments for the simple reason that my life as an author has been blessed with a kind of professional stability that strikes e When I think back to e in a Bottle or The Rescue, I see names of people hoent and editor since I began writing, but I’ve worked with the saner, and salespeople, and one producer has been responsible for three of the four film adaptations While it’s wonderful, it alsoof a broken record when it co these people Nonetheless, each and every one of theratitude

Of course, I have to begin—as alith thanking Cat, hteen years and have shared quite a life together: five children, eight dogs (at various times), six different residences in three different states, three very sad funerals of various members of my family, twelve novels and another nonfiction work It’s been a ind since the beginning, and I can’t i any of it with anyone else

My children—Miles, Ryan, Landon, Lexie, and Savannah—are growing up, slowly but surely, and while I love them dearly, I’m proud of each and every one of them

Theresa Park, ent at Park Literary Group, is not only one of ent, chars ofshe’s done

Ja, also deserves ratitude for all she does She puts the pencil to theit the best it can be, and I’m fortunate to have had access to her intuitive wisdom when it comes to novels More than that, I’m lucky to call her a friend

Denise DiNovi, the fabulous producer of A Walk to Rehts in Rodanthe, is my best friend in Hollywood, and I look forward to those times on the film set, simply so we have a chance to visit

David Young, the new CEO of Grand Central Publishing (well, not exactly new anymore, I suppose), has not only become a friend, but one who deserves my heartfelt thanks, if only because I have the nasty tendency to deliver my manuscripts at the very last possible moment Sorry about that

Both Jennifer Romanello and Edna Farley are publicists and friends, and I’ve adored working with them since The Notebook was published in 1996 Thanks for all that you do!

Harvey-Jane Kowal and Sona Vogel, who do the copy-editing, always deservethe “little errors” that inevitably crop up in my novels

Howie Sanders and Keya Khayatian at UTA deserve ood fortune I’ve had in film adaptations I appreciate all that both of you do

Scott Schwimer alatches out for me, and I’ve come to think of him as a friend Thanks, Scott!

Many thanks to Marty Bowen, the producer responsible for Dear John I can’t wait to see how it all turns out

Thanks again to Flag for another wonderful cover

And finally, many thanks to Shannon O’Keefe, Abby Koons, Sharon Krassney, David Park, Lynn Harris, and Mark Johnson

Prologue

February 2007

Stories are as unique as the people who tell the is a surprise At least, that’s what Travis Parker recalled his dad telling him when he was a child Travis remembered the way his dad would sit on the bed beside hied for a story

“What kind of story do you want?” his dad would ask

“The best one ever,” Travis would answer

Usually, his dad would sit quietly for a few ht up He’d put his arm around Travis and in a pitch-perfect voice would launch into a story that often kept Travis awake long after his dad had turned out the lights There was always adventure and danger and excitement and journeys that took place in and around the small coastal town of Beaufort, North Carolina, the place Travis Parker grew up in and still called hoely, most of them included bears Grizzly bears, brown bears, Kodiak bearshis dad wasn’t a stickler for reality when it ca chase scenes through the sandy lowlands, giving Travis nightmares about crazed polar bears on Shackleford Banks until he ell into htened the stories had made him, he would inevitably ask, “What happened next?”

To Travis, those days seees of another era He was forty-three now, and as he parked his car in the parking lot of Carteret General Hospital, where his wife had worked for the past ten years, he thought again about the words he’d always said to his father

After stepping out of the car, he reached for the flowers he’d brought The last tiu he wanted to take back his words and make amends He was under no illusions that the floould s better between the that he felt guilty about what had happened, but uilt was the cornerstone of any good e It h esteeuilty were best avoided whenever possible His friends sometimes adured that the same could be said about any couple he’d ever met He supposed his friends had said it to make him feel better, to reassure him that no one was perfect, that he shouldn’t be so hard on hih he’d nodded as if he believed theo

ing through They couldn’t After all, their wives were still sleeping beside theht; none of them had ever been separated for three e would ever return to what it once had been

As he crossed the parking lot, he thought about both of his daughters, his job, his wife At the h he were failing in practically every area of his life Lately, happiness seemed as distant and unattainable to him as space travel He hadn’t always felt this way There had been a long period of tis change People change Change was one of the inevitable laws of nature, exacting its toll on people’s lives Mistakes are rets form, and all that was left were repercussions thatfrom the bed seem almost laborious

Shaking his head, he approached the door of the hospital, picturing hi to his father’s stories His own life had been the best story ever, he mused, the kind of story that should have ended on a happy note As he reached for the door, he felt the faret

Only later, after he let the ain, would he allow himself to wonder ould happen next

Part One

One

May 1996

Tell reed to help you with this” Matt, red-faced and grunting, continued to push the spa toward the recently cut square at the far edge of the deck His feet slipped, and he could feel sweat pouring fro It was hot, way too hot for early May Too da, Moby, was hiding in the shade and panting, his tongue hanging out

Travis Parker, as pushing the“Because you thought it would be fun,” he said He lowered his shoulder and shoved; the spa—which hed four hundred pounds—moved another couple of inches At this rate, the spa should be in place, ohsometime next week

“This is ridiculous,” Matt said, heaving his weight into the box, thinking that what they really needed was a tea hi off the sides of his head fro in both directions like the bottle rockets he and Travis used to launch as kids

“You’ve already said that”

“And it isn’t fun,” Matt grunted

“You said that, too”

“And it isn’t going to be easy to install”

“Sure it is,” Travis said He stood and pointed to the lettering on the box “See? It says right here, ‘Easy to Install’” From his spot beneath the shady tree, Moby—a purebred boxer—barked as if in agree way too pleased with himself

Matt scowled, trying to catch his breath He hated that look Well, not always Most of the time he enjoyed his friend’s boundless enthusiasm But not today Definitely not today

Matt reached for the bandanna in his rear pocket It was soaked with sweat, which had of course done wonders for the seat of his pants He wiped his face and wrung the bandanna with a quick twist Sweat dribbled from it like a leaky faucet onto the top of his shoe He stared at it alhthis toes a nice, slimy feel Oh, that was just dandy, wasn’t it?

“As I recall, you said Joe and Laird would be here to help us with your ‘little project’ and that Megan and Allison would cook so this thing should only take a couple of hours at the most”

“They’re co,” Travis said

“You said that four hours ago”

“Theya little late”

“Maybe you never called them at all”