At First Sight by Nicholas Sparks Read Free Book Online Page A

“you” to go around. And as for the rest of it? The sacrifices that led to the Ivy League? Jeremy was certain the only reason a five-year-old would even know about the Ivy League was that it was important to the parents. In other words, Jeremy had come to the conclusion that most parents wanted to create not only a “you,” but a “better you,” because no parent dreams of standing around at a cocktail party thirty years later saying things like “Oh, Jimmie’s doing great! He’s out on parole and has almost kicked his drug habit.” No, they want to say, “Emmett, in addition to becoming a multimillionaire, just finished his PhD in microbiology, and The New York Times just ran a feature on how his most recent research is likely to lead to a cure for cancer.”
Of course, neither of these issues pertained to Lexie and Jeremy, and Jeremy felt himself puff up just a bit at the realization. They weren’t typical parents-to-be for the simple reason that the pregnancy had been unplanned. At the time it happened, they hadn’t been thinking of a “little you and me,” nor was it the next logical step in their relationship, since technically they hadn’t had much of a relationship yet. No, their child had been conceived in beauty and tenderness, without any of the selfishness characteristic of other parents. Which meant that he and Lexie were better and more selfless, and in the long run, Jeremy figured, this selflessness would give their child the ever important leg up when it came to getting accepted to Harvard.
“Are you okay?” Lexie asked. “You’ve been sort of quiet since we left Herbs.”
It was getting close to ten o’clock, and Lexie and Jeremy were at her house, a small, weathered bungalow that backed up to a grove of ancient pines. Beyond the window, Jeremy watched the tips of the trees swaying in the breeze; in the moonlight, the needles appeared almost silver. Lexie was snuggling beneath his arm as they sat on the couch. A small candle flickered on the end table, casting light on a plate of leftovers Doris had prepared for them.
“I was just thinking about the baby,” Jeremy said.
“Really?” she said, cocking her head to the side.
“Yeah, really. What? You don’t think I think about the baby?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I got the impression you sort of tuned out when Doris and I were talking about her. So what were you thinking?”
He pulled her closer, figuring it was best not to mention the word selfish. “I was thinking how lucky the baby is to have you as a mother.”
She smiled before turning to study him. “I hope our daughter has your dimple.”
“You like my dimple?”
“I adore your dimple. But I hope she has my eyes.”
“What’s wrong with my eyes?”
“Nothing’s wrong with your eyes.”
“But yours are so much better? I’ll have you know, my mother loves my eyes.”
“I do, too. On you, they’re seductive. I just don’t want our daughter to have seductive eyes. She’s only a baby.”
He laughed. “What else?”
She stared at him, concentrating. “I want her to have my hair, too. And my nose and chin.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And my forehead, too.”
“Your forehead?”
She nodded. “You’ve got a wrinkle between your eyebrows.”
He absently brought his finger to it, as if he’d never noticed it before. “It comes from furrowing my brow.” He showed her. “See? It’s from deep concentration. Thinking. Don’t you want our daughter to think?”
“Are you saying you want our daughter to have wrinkles?”
“Well . . . no, but you’re saying that all I get is a dimple?”
“How about if she gets your ears?”
“Ears? No one cares about ears.”
“I think your ears are darling.”
“Really?”
“Your ears are perfect. Probably the world’s most perfect ears. I’ve heard people talking about how wonderful your ears are.”
He laughed. “Okay, my ears and dimple, your eyes, nose, chin, and forehead. Anything