Allie's Decision to Visit

Allie Nelson, twenty-nine years old and engaged to the wealthy lawyer Lon Hammond Jr., makes a decision that will alter the course of her life. Three Sundays before her wedding, while at her parents' home in Raleigh, her father hands her a newspaper and points to a small picture. After an uninterested first glance, something in the image catches her eye and she takes a closer look. "It can't be," she whispers, and when her father looks at her curiously she ignores him, sits down, and reads the article without speaking. The article is about the restoration of a plantation-style home in New Bern, North Carolina—the very house Noah Calhoun had promised to own and fix up during the summer they spent together fourteen years ago. The coincidence is overwhelming, and from that moment, a compulsion begins to build inside her.

The Weight of Class and Expectation

Allie's decision to visit Noah is not made in a vacuum. She is deeply aware of the social forces that had kept them apart. During the summer of 1932, after her graduation, she and Noah fell in love, but her parents disapproved because he was from a different class—too poor. "I don't care what my parents think, I love you and always will," she had said then, but in the end they could not be together. Now, engaged to Lon Hammond Jr., whose family is one of the most powerful and influential in the state—cotton money—Allie is about to marry into the very world her parents had always wanted for her. Yet the memory of Noah, and of her mother's words that "status is more important than feelings," has never left her. The article in the paper reopens that old wound and forces her to question whether she has truly moved on.

The Journey to New Bern

For three weeks after seeing the article, Allie is distracted and erratic. She takes long walks alone, and when asked, she blames stress from the wedding plans—a perfect excuse, since almost five hundred people are invited, including the governor, one senator, and the ambassador to Peru. She hints to Lon that she might want to visit some antique shops near the coast, saying, "It's just a couple of days, and besides, I need a break from planning the wedding." She feels bad about the lie but knows she cannot tell him the truth. The drive from Raleigh takes a little over two hours, and she arrives in New Bern a little before eleven. She checks into a small inn downtown, unpacks, has a quick lunch, and spends the afternoon shopping for antiques as a cover. By four thirty she is back in her room, sitting on the edge of the bed, and calls Lon to give him the phone number where she is staying, promising to call the following day. Routine conversation, nothing out of the ordinary.

The Moment of Decision

Alone in her room, Allie wavers. She knows she should pack her things and leave before she changes her mind. She picks up her handbag, hesitates, and almost makes it to the door. But the coincidence that pushed her here is too strong, and she puts the bag down, realizing that if she quits now she will always wonder what would have happened. She cannot live with that. She takes a bath to relax, then dresses carefully—choosing a light blue dress with a touch of lace, buttoning up the front, rather than a more revealing yellow one. She wears little makeup, just a touch of eye shadow and mascara, and pins up her blonde hair before letting it back down. She evaluates herself: not too dressy, not too casual. She does not want to overdo it. Her hands are shaking, and she laughs to herself, surprised at her own nervousness. She checks her watch: almost six o'clock. She knows she must leave in a few minutes—she does not want to arrive after dark—but she needs a little more time. "Damn," she whispers. "What am I doing here? I shouldn't be here. There's no reason for it." But once she says it, she knows it is not true. If nothing else, she will have her answer.

The Article That Changed Everything

Allie opens her handbag and thumbs through it until she finds a folded-up piece of newspaper. She takes it out slowly, almost reverently, unfolds it, and stares at it for a while. "This is why," she finally says to herself, "this is what it's all about." The article, which she had cut out from her parents' paper three weeks ago, is the proof she holds in her hands. She read it again before going to bed that night, trying to fathom the coincidence, and read it again the next morning as if to make sure the whole thing was not a dream. Now, after three weeks of distraction, it is the reason she has come. She takes a deep breath, stands again, and whispers, "It's now or never." She picks up her things, goes downstairs, and walks past the manager, who smiles as she goes by. She slips behind the wheel of her car, starts the engine, and turns right onto Front Street, heading toward the house she remembers so well.

The Drive and the Memories

Allie still knows her way around the small town, even though she has not been here in years. After crossing the Trent River on an old-fashioned drawbridge, she turns onto a gravel road that winds its way between antebellum farms. The constancy of the place brings back a flood of memories as she recognizes landmarks she had long ago forgotten. She passes an old abandoned church, which she had explored that summer looking for souvenirs of the War between the States. A majestic oak tree on the riverbank comes into view, and the memories become more intense. It looks the same as it had back then—branches low and thick, stretching horizontally along the ground with moss draped over the limbs like a veil. She remembers sitting beneath that tree on a hot July day with someone who looked at her with a longing that took everything else away. It was at that moment that she had first fallen in love. Another turn in the road, and she finally sees the house in the distance. It has changed dramatically from what she remembers. She slows the car, turning into the long, tree-lined dirt drive. She takes a deep breath when she sees him on the porch, watching her car. From a distance, he looks the same as he had back then. When the light from the sun is behind him, he almost seems to vanish into the scenery. Her car continues forward slowly, then finally stops beneath an oak tree that shades the front of the house. She turns the key, never taking her eyes from him, and the engine sputters to a halt. He steps off the porch and begins to approach her, walking easily, then suddenly stops cold as she emerges from the car. For a long time, all they can do is stare at each other without moving.