the notebook-恋恋笔记本(英文版)-第9章

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to　hear。　When　their　eyes　locked；　she　once　again　realized　how　special　he　was。

And　for　just　a　fleeting　moment；　a　tiny　wisp　of　time　that　hung　in　the　air　like　fireflies　in　summer　skies；　she　wondered　if　she　was　in　love　with　him　again。

　　　　THE　TIMER　WENT　off　in　the　kitchen；　and　Noah　turned　away；　strangely　affected　by　what　had　just　happened　between　them。　Her　eyes　had　spoken　to　him　and　whispered　something　he　longed　to　hear；　yet　he　couldn’t　stop　the　voice　inside　his　head；　her　voice　that　had　told　him　of　her　love　for　another　man。　He　silently　cursed　the　timer　as　he　walked　to　the　kitchen　and　removed　the　bread　from　the　oven。　He　saw　that　the　frying　pan　was　ready。　He　added　the　vegetables　and　heard　them　begin　to　crackle。　Then　he　got　some　but…ter　out　of　the　icebox；　spread　some　on　the　bread　and　melted　a　hit　more　for　the　crabs。

Allie　had　followed　him　into　the　kitchen　and　cleared　her　throat。

“Can　I　get　the　table　ready？”

Noah　used　the　bread　knife　as　a　pointer。　“Sure；　plates　are　over　there。　Utensils　and　napkins　there。　Make　sure　you　get　plenty—　crabs　can　be　messy。”　He　couldn’t　look　at　her　as　he　spoke。　He　didn’t　want　to　be　mistaken　about　what　had　just　happened　between　them。

Allie　too；　was　wondering　about　the　moment　and　feeling　warm　as　she　thought　of　it。　The　words　he’d　spoken　replayed　in　her　head　as　she　found　everything　she　needed　for　the　table　settings。　Noah　handed　her　the　bread　and　their　fingers　touched　briefly。

He　turned　his　attention　back　to　the　frying　pan　and　stirred　the　vegetables。　He　lifted　the　lid　of　the　steamer；　saw　the　crabs　still　had　a　minute；　and　let　them　cook　some　more。　He　was　more　posed　now　and　returned　to　small　talk；　easy　conversation。

“Have　you　ever　had　crab　before？”

“A　couple　of　times。　But　only　in　salads。”

He　laughed。　“Then　you’re　in　for　an　adventure。　Hold　on　a　sec…ond。”　He　disappeared　upstairs　for　a　moment；　then　returned　with　a　navy…blue　button…down　shirt。　He　held　it　out　for　her。

“Here；　put　this　on。　I　don’t　want　you　to　stain　your　dress。”

Allie　put　it　on　and　smelt　the　fragrance　that　lingered　in　the　shirt—his　smell；　distinctive；　natural。

“Don’t　worry。”　he　said；　seeing　her　expression；　“it’s　clean。”

She　laughed。　“I　know。　It　just　reminds　me　of　our　first　real　date。　You　gave　me　your　jacket　that　night；　remember？”

He　nodded。

The　vegetables　and　crabs　were　ready　at　about　the　same　time。　“Be　careful；　they’re　hot。”　he　said　as　he　handed　them　to　her；　and　they　sat　across　from　each　other　at　the　small　wooden　table。　Then　realizing　the　tea　was　still　on　the　counter；　Allie　stood　and　brought　it　over。　After　putting　some　vegetables　and　bread　on　their　plates；　Noah　added　a　crab；　and　Allie　sat　for　a　moment；　staring　at　it。

“It　looks　like　a　bug。”

“A　good　bug；　though；”　he　said。　“Here；　let　me　show　you　how　it’s　done。”

He　made　it　look　easy；　removing　the　meat　and　putting　it　on　her　plate。　Allie　crushed　the　legs　too　hard　the　first　time　and　had　to　use　her　fingers　to　get　the　shells　away　from　the　meat。　She　felt　clumsy；　worrying　that　he　saw　every　mistake；　but　then　she　realized　her　own　insecurity。　He　didn’t　care　about　things　like　that　He　never　had。　“So；　tell　me　everything　you’ve　been　up　to　since　I　saw　you　last；”　she　asked。

They　started　to　talk　then；　making　up　for　lost　time。　Noah　talked　about　leaving　New　Bern；　about　working　in　the　shipyard　and　at　the　scrap　yard　in　New　Jersey。　He　spoke　fondly　of　Morris　Goldman　and　touched　on　the　war　a　little；　and　told　her　how　much　he　missed　his　father。　Allie　talked　about　going　to　college；　painting；　and　her　hours　spent　volunteering　at　the　hospital。　She　talked　about　her　family　and　Mends　and　the　charities　she　was　involved　with。　Neither　of　them　brought　up　anybody　they　had　dated　since　they’d　last　seen　each　other。　Even　Lon　was　ignored；　and　though　both　of　them　noticed　the　omission；　neither　mentioned　it。

Afterwards　Allie　tried　to　remember　the　last　time　she　and　Lon　had　talked　this　way。　Although　he　listened　well　and　they　seldom　argued；　he　was　not　the　type　of　man　to　talk　like　this。　Like　her　father；　he　wasn’t　fortable　sharing　feelings。　She’d　tried　to　explain　that　she　needed　to　be　closer　to　him；　but　it　had　never　seemed　to　make　a　difference。

Sitting　here　now；　she　realized　what　she’d　been　missing。

The　sky　grew　darker　and　the　moon　rose　higher　as　the　evening　wore　on。　And　without　either　of　them　being　conscious　of　it；　they　began　to　regain　the　intimacy；　the　bond　of　familiarity；　they　had　once　shared。

THEY　FINISHED　dinner；　both　pleased　with　the　meal；　neither　talking　much　now。　Noah　looked　at　his　watch　and　saw　that　it　was　getting　late。　The　stars　were　out　in　full；　the　crickets　a　little　quieter。　He　had　enjoyed　talking　to　Allie　and　wondered　what　she’d　thought　about　his　life；　hoping　it　would　somehow　make　a　difference；　if　it　could。

He　got　up　and　refilled　the　kettle。　They　both　brought　the　dishes　to　the　sink　and　cleaned　the　table；　and　he　poured　two　more　cups　of　hot　water；　adding　tea　bags　to　both。

“How　about　the　porch　again？”　he　asked；　handing　her　the　cup；　and　she　agreed；　leading　the　way。

He　grabbed　a　quilt　for　her　in　case　she　got　cold；　and　soon　they　had　taken　their　places　again；　the　quilt　over　her　legs；　rockers　moving。　Noah　watched　her　from　the　corner　of　his　eye。　God；　she’s　beautiful；　he　thought。　And　inside　he　ached。

For　something　had　happened　during　dinner。

Quite　simply；　he　had　fallen　in　love　again。　He　knew　that　now　as　they　sat　next　to　one　another。　Fallen　in　love　with　a　new　Allie；　not　just　her　memory。　But　then　he　had　never　really　stopped；　and　this；　he　realized；　was　his　destiny。

“It’s　been　quite　a　night。”　he　said；　his　voice　softer　now。

“Yes；　it　has。”　she　said；　“a　wonderful　night。”

Noah　glanced　up　at　the　stars；　their　twinkling　lights　reminding　him　that　she　would　he　leaving　soon；　and　he　felt　almost　empty　inside。　This　was　a　night　he　wanted　never　to　end。　How　should　he　tell　her？　What　could　he　say　that　would　make　her　stay’？

He　didn’t　know。　And　thus　the　decision　was　made　to　say　nothing。　And　he　realized　then　that　he　had　failed。

The　rockers　moved　in　quiet　rhythm。

“Talk　to　me；”　she　finally　said；　her　voice　sensual。　Or　was　his　mind　playing　tricks’？

“What　should　I　say？”

“Talk　like　you　did　to　me　under　the　oak　tree。”

And　he　did；　reciting　distant　passages；　toasting　the　night。　Whitman　and　Thomas；　because　he　loved　the　images；　Tennyson　and　Browning；　because　their　themes　felt　so　familiar。

She　rested　her　head　against　the　back　of　the　rocker；　closing　her　eyes。　It　wasn’t　just　the　poems　or　his　voice　that　did　it。　It　was　all　of　it；　the　whole　greater　than　the　sum　of　the　parts。　She　didn’t　try　to　break　it　down；　didn’t　want　to；　because　it　wasn’t　meant　to　he　listened　to　that　way。　Poetry；　she　thought；　wasn’t　written　to　he　analysed：　it　was　meant　to　inspire　without　reason；　to　touch　without　understanding。

They　rocked　for　a　while；　drinking　tea；　sitting　quietly；　drifting　in　their　thoughts。　The　pulsion　that　had　driven　her　here　was　gone　now—she　was　glad　of　this—but　she　worried　about　the　feelings　that　had　taken　its　place；　the　stirrings　that　had　begun　to　sift　and　swirl　in　her　pores　like　gold　dust　in　river　pans。　She’d　tried　to　deny　them；　hide　from　them；　but　now　she　realized　that　she　didn’t　want　them　to　stop。

Lon　could　not　evoke　these　feelings　in　her。　He　never　had　and　probably　never　would。　Maybe　that　was　why　she　had　never　been　to　bed　with　him。　She　had　always　used　the　excuse　that　she　wanted　to　wait　until　marriage。　He　took　it　well；　usually；　and　she　sometimes　wondered　how　hurt　he　would　be　if　he　ever　found　out　about　Noah。

But　there　was　something　else　that　made　her　want　to　wait；　and　it　had　to　do　with　Lon　himself。　He　was　driven　in　his　work；　and　it　always　came　first。　For　him　there　was　no　time　for　poems　and　wasted　evenings　on　porches。　She　knew　this　was　why　he　was　successful；　and　part　of　her　respected　him　for　that。　But　she　also　sensed　it　wasn’t　enough。　She　wanted　something　more。　Passion　and　romance；　perhaps；　or　quiet　conversations　in　candlelit　rooms；　or　perhaps　something　as　simple　as　not　being　second。

Noah；　too；　was　sifting　through　his　thoughts。　As　he　rocked；　he　remembered　the　thousands　of　empty　nights　he　had　spent　since　they’d　last　seen　each　other。　Seeing　her　again　brought　all　those　feelings　to　the　surface；　and　he　found　it　impossible　to　press　them　back　down。　He　knew　then　he　wanted　to　make　love　to　her　again　and　to　have　her　love　in　return。　It　was　what　he　needed　most　in　the　world。

But　he　also　realized　it　could　never　be。　Now　that　she　was　engaged。

Allie　knew　by　his　silence　that　he　was　thinking　about　her　and　found　that　she　revelled　in　it。　She　thought　about　their　conversation　at　dinner　and　wondered　about　loneliness。　For　some　reason　she　couldn’t　picture　him　reading　poetry　to　someone　else　or　even　sharing　his　dreams　with　another　woman。　He　didn’t　seem　the　type。　Either　that；　or　she　didn’t　want　to　believe　it。

She　put　down　the　tea；　then　ran　her　hands　through　her　hair；　closing　her　eyes　as　she　did　so。

“Are　you　tired？”　he　asked；　finally　breaking　free　from　his　thoughts。

“A　little。　I　should　really　he　going　in　a　couple　of　minutes。”

“I　know。”　he　said；　nodding；　his　tone　neutral。

She　didn’t　get　up　right　away。　Instead　she　picked　up　the　cup　and　drank　the　last　swallow　of　tea；　feeling　it　warm　her　throat。　She　took　the　evening　in。　Moo