Free A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks Page B

that lined the walls. My ancestors, so to speak. As with many southern families, my entire lineage could be traced in the dozen faces that lined the walls. She stared at them, looking for a resemblance, I think, then turned her attention to the furnishings, which still looked practically new, even after twenty years. The furniture had been handmade, assembled or carved from mahogany and cherry, and designed specifically for each room. It
was
nice, I had to admit, but it wasn’t something I really thought about. To me, it was just a house. My favorite part of it was the window in my room that led to the porch on the upper level. That was my escape hatch.
    I showed her around, though, giving her a quick tour of the sitting room, the library, the den, and the family room, Jamie’s eyes growing wider with each new room. My mom was out on the sun porch, sipping a mint julep and reading, and heard us poking around. She came back inside to say hello.
    I think I told you that every adult in town adored Jamie, and that included my mom. Even though Hegbert was always giving the kinds of sermons that had our family’s name written all over them, my mom never held it against Jamie, because of how sweet she was. So they talked while I was upstairs rifling through my closet for a clean shirt and a tie. Back then boys wore ties a lot, especially when they were meeting someone in a position of authority. When I came back down the stairs fully dressed, Jamie had already told my mom about the plan.
    “It’s a wonderful idea,” Jamie said, beaming at me. “Landon’s really got a special heart.”
    My mom—after making sure she’d heard Jamie correctly—faced me with her eyebrows raised. She stared at me like I was an alien.
    “So this was your idea?” my mom asked. Like everyone else in town, she knew Jamie didn’t lie.
    I cleared my throat, thinking of Eric and what I still wanted to do to him. It involved molasses and fire ants, by the way.
    “Kind of,” I said.
    “Amazing.” It was the only word she could get out. She didn’t know the details, but she knew I must have been boxed into a corner to do something like this. Mothers always know stuff like that, and I could see her peering closely at me and trying to figure it out. To escape her inquisitive gaze, I checked my watch, feigned surprise, and casually mentioned to Jamie that we’d better be going. My mom got the car keys from her pocketbook and handed them to me, still giving me the once-over as we headed out the door. I breathed a sigh of relief, imagining that I’d somehow gotten away with something, but as I walked Jamie to the car, I heard my mother’s voice again.
    “Come on over anytime, Jamie!” my mom shouted. “You’re always welcome here.”
    Even mothers could stick it to you sometimes.
    I was still shaking my head as I got in the car.
    “Your mother’s a wonderful lady,” Jamie said.
    I started the engine. “Yeah,” I said, “I guess so.”
    “And your house is beautiful.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “You should count your blessings.”
    “Oh,” I said, “I do. I’m practically the luckiest guy alive.”
    Somehow she didn’t catch the sarcastic tone of my voice.
    We got to the orphanage just about the time it was getting dark. We were a couple of minutes early, and the director was on the phone. It was an important call and he couldn’t meet with us right away, so we made ourselves comfortable. We were waiting on a bench in the hallway outside his door, when Jamie turned to me. Her Bible was in her lap. I guess she wanted it for support, but then again, maybe it was just her habit.
    “You did really well today,” she said. “With your lines, I mean.”
    “Thanks,” I said, feeling proud and dejected at exactly the same time. “I still haven’t learned my beats, though,” I offered. There was no way we could practice
those
on the porch, and I hoped she wasn’t going to suggest it.
    “You will. They’re easy once you know you all the