Part 15 (1/2)

Color washes across his cheeks. ”Yeah.”

”Max,” I say in a soft voice, feeling overwhelmed with pride for him.

”It was Ann's idea, and Cara pushed me too,” he says modestly.

”But you're the one doing it.” I smile.

His determination and focus really s.h.i.+ne in situations like this. I can only imagine what he'll be able to accomplish when he really feels centered and whole again.

He looks at me intently. ”So, have you heard from Jonathan?” His voice sounds tense.

My smile falls. ”Well, his phone calls have tapered off. It was at least one every hour, but now he's down to about three a day.”

”Have you picked up any calls or listened to his voicemails?”

”No, I don't want to talk or hear what he has to say. I've deleted all the voicemails without listening to them.”

The corners of his mouth curl up just slightly.

”He did try to corner me at work, though.”

”He came to the gallery?” Max looks surprised.

”Yeah. Thank goodness Brian was up front when he showed up. He practically had to throw Jonathan out of the building. It freaked me out.”

Max's jaw tenses and his brows knit together. ”I can't believe he'd humiliate himself like that. Where were you?”

”In the print studio, holding back Sean. He wanted to go kick his a.s.s.”

Although I know Max understands the impulse, since he wants to kick Jonathan's a.s.s too, I imagine he doesn't like the idea of Sean being the one to defend me. A shadow settles over his expression.

I twist my napkin in my lap. ”Max, do you think this situation will affect the book? I've been really worried.”

”I already called the VP at Taylor and Tiden and checked on that yesterday. I didn't give any details...I just said that we had a conflict with Alistair, and I was concerned about the ramifications. He a.s.sured me that the book was already on the press and, whatever conflict happened, wouldn't change their plans for the book.”

I exhale the breath I feel like I've been holding since this worry settled into my mind. ”I'm so relieved. Thanks for calling them. It would've killed me if this hurt the book on top of everything else.”

”Don't worry, Ava. It's fine, really.” He glances down at his watch. ”Hey, we should get going.”

A surge of excitement hits me, and I bounce in my seat as I hum the opening music from the Harry Potter movies. He laughs and leads me to the concessions. We buy popcorn and Milk Duds, despite the fact that we've had Bertie Bott's Beans as an appetizer to our late dinner.

The movie's everything I'd hoped...great portrayals of the characters, a faithful interpretation of the book, and visually compelling sets and special effects. Since I've read all the books at least twice, there are no surprises in the film, but what does surprise me is how I react when Dumbledore dies.

I knew it was coming, I'd even braced myself for it...but it still bowls me over. I feel as if a close relative has died. And because I'm intent on setting the world record for crying this week, I practically sob in the theater. Max leans into me and rubs my shoulder, yet I can't stop myself. The couple in front of me even turns around to gawk.

The moment the credits start, Max grabs me by the hand and we rush out of the theater and into the plaza area without saying a word. When we reach the outdoor fountain, Max sits down on the ledge and pats the spot next to him. I sit and he rubs my back until the tears taper off. By the time I'm done, all that's left is a raw empty feeling.

I look around the desolate plaza. ”What time is it?”

Max looks at his watch. ”Almost three. Are you okay?” he asks, now that I'm finally calm.

”I'm sorry; I wasn't expecting to react like that.”

”Don't be sorry. I just feel bad. This was supposed to be fun, not a big downer.”

”Oh, it was a fun evening, Max. Please don't think it wasn't. I guess I'm just worn out emotionally this week, and something about Harry losing Dumbledore, the only person he had left that could guide him and care for him, just hit too close to home.”

His head drops as he frowns.

”I guess we share that in common with Harry, don't we?” I say. ”Essentially, you and I, having both lost our parents' presence and guidance in our lives. That person you always knew would be there for you.”

He gently puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer. ”But we can be there for each other, Ava. Look how much we've been through together already.”

I realize how true those words are.

”Look at what Ginny and Harry went through, and Rowling has them married and living happily ever after by the end of the last book.”

I smile at his sweet, innocent source of inspiration.

And, in that moment, I know that there's nothing I would love more than to have complete faith in Max, but I'm not even sure I have faith in myself. We are two tender plants pus.h.i.+ng our roots toward each other through the dark, wet soil while reaching for the sun.

As I tuck myself into Max, I look up at the maintenance man who's starting to hose down the walkway. In the shadows of the moonlight, the water cascades past our feet. As he works, he's watching us with a sentimental expression. I wonder what he sees when he looks at us?

My handsome Max's gentle expression cradles me with more words than he may ever be willing to say out loud. Does this stranger see love threading between us...gently joining us? Do I?

Chapter Eleven / Dodging the Speeding Train.

Our greatest glory consists not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.

~ Confucius As we pull out of the theater's parking garage, I'm struck with the hollow quiet of the empty streets. It's a rare experience in Los Angeles, and it's a bit haunting, but it fits my mood.

On the drive back to my apartment, Max lets me know that he's leaving Friday for a show in Toronto after he finishes with the kids at the art school downtown. He won't be back until right before Santa Fe. A wave of emotion, as if I'm already missing him hits me, and he hasn't even left yet.

After he walks me to my door, he pulls me into his arms for a long hug. When we finally part, he gently brushes my hair off my forehead.

”Are you gonna be okay?”

”Yeah, I'm tough, Max.”

”So tough,” he teases, but I see the worry in his eyes.

I wink, trying to lighten the mood. ”Don't let all that crying fool you. Inside I'm the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going.”

”Well, don't burn out your batteries, bunny,” he says softly, as he runs his fingers across my cheek. ”I need you to be okay.”

I lean into his hand with a sigh. ”I promise, I'll do my best. For me and for you.”