The Guardian by Nicholas Sparks Page B

share them with him, so he could really know who she was.
    But she didn't. For some reason, she couldn't. And he didn't tell her much about himself, either, she noticed. He had a way of avoiding the past as well.
    But wasn't that what it came down to in the end? The ability to communicate, to open up, to trust? She and Jim had had that, but like "the chicken or the egg" dilemma, she couldn't remember which part had come first, the little tingles on the back of her neck or all those other things.
    The ringing of the phone interrupted her musings. Singer followed her to the living room as Julie picked up the receiver.
    "Hello?"
    "So what happened?" Emma demanded. "I want to hear all about it. And don't leave anything out."
    "A foot massage?" Mike asked, not bothering to hide his disbelief. It was the one part he hadn't heard about from strangers."That's what she told Emma yesterday."
    "But . . . a foot massage?"
    "I'll admit he does have a flair about him."
    "That's not what I mean." Mike paused, pushing his hands into his pockets. His face took on a distracted look.
    Henry leaned forward. "Listen, I hate to offer you more bad news, but Benny's called to say he's coming in today."
    Mike winced. Benny, he thought. Good God, Benny.
    Oh, this day was turning out grand, wasn't it?
    "And Blansen still needs his truck," Henry went on. "You'll have it done, right? It's part of the contract I worked out with the bridge people, so it's important."
    "Yeah, I'll be finished."
    Andrea couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. The whole thing made her practically sick to her stomach, especially with Julie's oh-so-nonchalant attitude about the whole thing. A limousine? Champagne? The play . . . Phantom of the Soap Opera or whatever it was called? Hot-air balloon ride? Picnic at the beach?Andrea didn't want to hear it. She didn't even want to overhear it by accident, but that wasn't possible in a small place like this.
    Her weekend hadn't been anything like Julie's. No, her weekend was just like all the others she'd spent lately, just another in a long line of forgettable weekends. On Friday, she'd spent the evening at the Clipper, fighting off Cobra's advances for the second time. Even though she hadn't planned on meeting him there, he'd spotted her right off and had been all over her the whole evening like a bug on roadkill. And Saturday? How about spending hours mending the stupid fingernail tips she'd lost the night before? How's that for a weekend, honey? she wanted to shout. I'll bet that just makes your blood bubble with jealousy, huh?
    But of course, no one had even asked about her weekend. No, all Mabel and Julie cared about was what Julie did. Then what happened? I'll bet you were surprised, huh? Sounds wonderful. Julie, Julie, Julie. It was always all about Julie. And Julie shrugging and going on like the whole thing was no big deal at all.
    In the corner, Andrea filed her nails like a human belt sander. This, she thought, wasn't the way things were supposed to be.
    Richard pushed open the door of the salon and held it as Julie's client made her way out."Oh, hey, Richard," Julie said. "Good timing. I just finished up."
    Though she wasn't any closer to sorting through her emotions, she was still glad he'd come by, if only to understand whether seeing him would make them any clearer.
    "You look beautiful," he said, leaning in to kiss her.
    Despite the brevity, for Julie it was an almost analytical undertaking when their lips met. No fireworks, she thought, but no sense of dread, either. Just . . . a kiss.
    And if I keep going on like this, she immediately thought, I'll end up as crazy as my mother.
    "Do you have a few minutes to grab a cup of coffee?" he asked.
    Mabel had gone to the bank. Andrea was flipping through the National Enquirer in the corner-"reading the paper," she called it-but Julie knew she was listening in.
    "Yeah," Julie said. "I've got a little time. My next appointment is in half an hour."
    As she answered,