Part 24 (2/2)
”I'd think after all that time on the bike, riding would be the last thing you'd want to do.”
”There's a place I want to show you.”
”Then I'm all for it.” Twice now Bethanne had ridden with Max and each time she'd felt more relaxed, more comfortable. He must have planned this, because when he collected his Harley, he had Rooster's helmet.
When she was securely seated behind him, Max took off. He hadn't said where they were going, but it really didn't matter. She would've gone anywhere with him.
They rode for about forty minutes. He turned off the main road to a lake with a number of upscale modern homes built along the sh.o.r.eline. Then he pulled into the driveway of one of those houses and climbed off the bike.
After removing his helmet, he said, ”This belongs to a friend of mine. He said I can stop by anytime I want.”
”Is he at home now?” she asked, removing her own helmet.
”I don't know. I left him a voice mail and said I'd like to take him up on his offer. I haven't heard back.”
Bethanne dismounted and tucked her fingertips into the rear pockets of her jeans while Max walked over to the house. He dashed up the steps to the porch and rang the doorbell. When no one answered, he lifted a brick from beneath the window, thrust his hand in the hole and took out the key.
”Looks like we have the place to ourselves,” he said, unlocking the front door.
Bethanne hesitated. ”You're sure your friend won't mind?”
”I'm sure.”
”You've done this before...stopped in like this.”
”No.”
”Max,” she protested.
”It's okay, I promise.” Without waiting for her, he walked inside.
Reluctantly, Bethanne followed. When she entered the house she noticed large, comfortable furniture. Max went over to the triple-wide sliding gla.s.s doors that led to the deck. He opened two, letting a clean breeze waft through the rooms.
He moved to the railing and looked out over the lake, which sparkled in the suns.h.i.+ne. It was alive with activity. The sounds of enjoyment-laughter and good-natured shouting-carried easily to the house. People were boating and fis.h.i.+ng. A water-skier crossed the lake, and a couple of Jet-Skiers left huge rooster tails in their wake.
Bethanne joined him on the deck, and he slid his arm around her waist. ”I had no idea this was so lovely,” he said, almost as if he was speaking to himself.
”You haven't been here before?”
”Once. That was about two and a half years ago. Like I said, a friend of mine owns this. It was a little over a year after Kate died and I was consumed with grief. I was here, but I don't even remember looking at the lake.”
”Grief takes over your life, doesn't it?” she said, growing thoughtful. ”Years ago I read that grief is the place where love and pain converge. For whatever reason, that stayed in my mind. The truth of it hit me after Grant left. I grieved for my marriage.” Like Max, she spoke in a whisper. ”In the months after that, I discovered a number of things about myself, and they weren't necessarily things I liked. My husband had moved in with Tiffany. I wanted him back. I was willing to do anything, be anyone, if only Grant would come home again. I needed my husband. I'd never experienced that kind of emotional pain. Never understood how the man who'd vowed to love me could hurt me this badly.”
Max's arm tightened around her.
”That first year forced me to reinvent my life,” she said, ”but a large part of who I am was formed by my love for Grant.”
Max nodded. ”Yes,” he murmured. ”And he tried to destroy that.”
She didn't respond.
”I know how much you loved Kate,” she said after a moment, leaning her head against his shoulder. ”I wish I could tell you that the grief you're feeling will disappear and never return. But by now you've discovered it won't completely vanish.”
He slowly exhaled.
”Because of Kate and Katherine, because you loved them, you're a different person. That love, and the love they had for you, will stay with you forever. Nothing can change the way you feel about them. They're part of you and always will be.”
Max turned her to face him and whispered, ”Thank you.” Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close. For a long time they stood there and simply clung to each other. They didn't feel the need to kiss, and she believed that was because what they shared transcended the physical. This understanding-that they'd both lost what they'd treasured most-brought them together in a more profound way than mere attraction.
Eventually, they wandered down to the lake, took off their shoes and walked along the sh.o.r.e, holding hands. They smiled at a group of kids digging in the sand with colorful shovels and pails. After a while they found a private spot, where they sat and gazed out at the water.
”You're leaving in the morning?” Max asked, although he already knew the answer.
Bethanne splayed her fingers in the sand and nodded.
”Have you decided where you're going next?”
”Probably New Orleans.” Bethanne remembered that was on Ruth's original route. ”Ruth had everything worked out before Annie and I joined her.”
”Ruth planned to drive cross-country alone?”
”We weren't about to let that happen.”
”I'll be forever grateful you tagged along.” He reached for her left hand and kissed the knuckles.
Bethanne would be forever grateful, too.
Her right hand continued to make circles in the sand. ”Why did you want to know about our next stop?” she asked as casually as she could. She might appear relaxed, but she held her breath, torn between hope and dread. She hoped he'd follow but didn't dare ask if he would.
”Have you ever been to New Orleans?” Max asked.
”Never.”
”It's a wild and crazy town.”
”So I've heard.”
Max squeezed her fingers. ”I can't meet you there.”
She blinked, trying to hide her disappointment. ”What about Florida?”
”Probably not.”
She blinked again. He hadn't offered any explanations or excuses. She could always ask but decided against it. If Max wanted her to know his reasons, he would volunteer the information. She wasn't a needy individual who craved constant rea.s.surance.
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