Part 6 (1/2)

”Yes, you must be nervous to see him. I think you were brave to come.”

”Brave or stupid, I guess, depending on how Max reacts to my being here.”

”Stupid, never...it may not be easy to work things out, but I think it's important that you do. Please sit down. Would you like something to drink? Tea? Water?”

”No, thanks, I just had some coffee. So, how's he doing anyway?”

”Well, he's making progress. He was in quite a state when I picked him up in Oxnard. Evidently, Max's been on a downward spiral for a while, but he was trying to hide it from everyone. It's a hard lesson when you finally achieve everything you thought you wanted and realize that you're unhappy...that your life feels empty.”

I nod. Now I have to wonder what signs I missed that Max was in worse shape than I realized.

”Then the unfortunate way he handled his complicated feelings pushed him over the edge. The night he walked out of his house, he was convinced he'd lost you, or maybe I should say, your friends.h.i.+p, for good.

”As hard as this has been on both of you, I believe that the best thing that could've happened to Max was you, Ava. You've made him realize that there can be so much more.”

I want to ask her what she means by that cryptic so much more comment, but a door closes somewhere in the back of the house. Ann turns and listens carefully to the fridge open and shut and footsteps moving away.

”He must be going to take his shower,” she says, but the look on her face belies her earlier words. There's an awkward pause. He couldn't have missed my car parked in front of the house.

To divert the conversation, I ask Ann about her photography and the work hanging in her living room. She explains that all but one of the images are from other photographers she's collected over the years. Some are the work of friends of hers, some from people she's admired from afar.

I walk over to one in particular that's caught my eye. It's a rear view of a couple leaning on a railing and overlooking the scenery. A sweeping view of Paris lies before them with the Eiffel Tower rising tall above the enchanting city.

The couple's dressed in clothes I would estimate are from the fifties, and their body language suggests they're in love. It's a nontraditional composition with the couple low and to the side of the frame. It's brilliant.

As I gaze at the image, Ann says, ”Don't you love that... just the idea of being in love in Paris? That's one of my favorite images.” She sighs.

”Have you been to Paris?” I ask, getting the feeling that she's traveled extensively.

”Yes, a number of times. You?”

I shake my head.

”You must go...every artist must go. I think Lizzy took Max the first time when he was nine. As a creative person, a writer, you'll find it incredibly inspiring. You'll be changed forever.”

”I can imagine,” I say with wide eyes.

”I'll tell Max that he should take you.”

I laugh uncomfortably. ”Somehow, I don't think that will happen right now.”

”No, but maybe one day.”

I feel awkward, so I ask her about her work. She's semiretired now and no longer shoots commercial jobs, but she still shoots personal commissions and is working on several long-range projects. She even sells a portion of her images on her website. Her most serious fine art work is in a number of photography galleries such as Fahey Klein in L.A., Verve in Santa Fe and Marian Goodman in New York. I'm very impressed. Creative talent must run deep in Max's family.

We've been chatting for a while when I realize Max's shower must be long over. I feel ridiculous, knowing I shouldn't have taken this chance. Ann tips her head again, listening.

”It seems it was a mistake to come. I think I'd better go.” I stand, feeling sick to my stomach, and the desire to flee builds inside me.

”No! Please, before you leave, let me talk to him and find out what's going on. He's probably just shocked and wants to be calm so he can say the right things.” She jumps up and it feels like she's grasping at straws.

”Well, you can try. I'll wait a couple more minutes, but then I'm going to go.”

She quickly exits the room.

After about five minutes, I'm a wreck. Why did I come here? What did I think I was going to accomplish other than more humiliation? I'm about to make my escape when Ann comes back-alone.

I stand. ”Well, I almost forgot that I brought a copy of his book. He might like to read it. Why don't I go get it out of my car, and then I'll be on my way.”

”He thinks I made you come here. He doesn't believe you came of your own free will. But I know he wants to see you, Ava.”

”Did he say that?”

”No, but it was clear as day the way he asked about you-the look in his eyes. Honestly, he's a nervous wreck. He just needs to get a handle on his emotions.”

That just doesn't mean much when he still isn't acknowledging my presence after I've come all this way. Besides, I'm a nervous wreck too. I move for the front door, defeated. ”I'll get the book. It'll just take a sec.”

I walk toward my car and unlock the doors with the keyless remote. I'm only steps away from the car when I hear my name being called.

”Ava!” There's anguish in his voice and it's edged with panic.

”Please don't leave, Ava!”

I turn slowly to see Max rus.h.i.+ng toward me, and just the sight of him takes my breath away. His eyes are electric as they frantically search my face for answers. He's even more stunning than I remember him with his wet tousled hair and heightened color from his run. Barefoot and wearing soft faded jeans, he frantically b.u.t.tons an old plaid s.h.i.+rt as he moves. I see a glimpse of his strong defined chest before he pulls the s.h.i.+rt closed.

The look in his eyes tells me everything I've wanted to know and more.

He's in front of me...the most tragically beautiful man I've ever seen. And even though the pain, disappointment and longing are still weights in his pockets sinking him into the earth, his hands and heart are open.

”Ava,” he whispers as he reaches for me.

In that sacred moment, every doubt about coming to see him evaporates. This is exactly where I should be.

”It's okay, Max. I'm here...I'm finally here,” I say softly, before I sink into his open arms.

Chapter Six / Starting Over.

What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?

~ Anonymous ”I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” he says softly, as he wraps his arms even tighter around me. He takes a deep breath, and his heart thunders in my ear that's pressed against his chest.

My eyes fill with tears, and the surge of emotion takes me by surprise. This wasn't part of my master plan...No crying, Ava, I tell myself sternly. I take a deep breath and steady myself.

”Sorry?” I finally ask. I'm curious where his list of ”reasons to be sorry” will start.

”Well, first I'm sorry that you were leaving and thinking I didn't want to see you.”