A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [105]
Until now. Until he’d met Bethanne.
Time lost all meaning as he sat on the bike in his driveway and stared at the house. He’d expected a flood of grief and regrets, but he felt almost nothing. No guilt, no heartache, no melancholy. His overwhelming emotion was sadness for what no longer existed. The life he’d known here was gone. He’d handed the business over to his brother and had lost touch with the majority of his friends.
Shutting down the engine, he climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. The key to the house was hidden under a fake rock near the front door. His brother and Rooster routinely stopped by to check on the place and give him updates, although he wasn’t all that interested. He’d wanted to put the house on the market, but that would’ve meant returning and cleaning it out. He’d found the task too daunting.
The car pulling in behind him took him by surprise.
Rooster.
He should’ve realized his friend would show up. Rooster looked quite different in slacks and a shirt with a button-down collar than he did in his leather vest and chaps. Max wondered what Ruth and Annie would think if they could see Rooster now. They probably wouldn’t recognize him; the biker bore little resemblance to the successful advertising executive he was for most of the year.
Rooster got out of his car and closed the door, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the late afternoon. His friend joined him on the porch.
“What are you doing here?” Max demanded.
Max had phoned Rooster a few hours earlier, when he’d arrived in town. They’d parted ways the week before because of Rooster’s business commitments. He should’ve known his friend wouldn’t leave it at a simple call. “I was in the neighborhood.”
Max didn’t bother to respond to the obvious lie.
“Okay, I wasn’t. I figured you might need some company.”
“I’m fine.”
Rooster’s skeptical look revealed his doubt. “Do you want me to go in with you?”
Max studied the locked door as he considered his reply. He wasn’t ready to face this alone. He appreciated the fact that Rooster was with him, although he’d be hard-pressed to admit it.
He finally inserted the key and opened the door. For an instant he stood there paralyzed. Moving forward required an effort so great he began to sweat. He went in and, after three steps, again stood motionless.
Noticing that Rooster was watching him intently, Max advanced another step. The house was exactly as he’d left it, exactly as he remembered. Directly in front of him was a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows. White leather furniture was tastefully displayed; a black grand piano rested in one corner of the living room and a huge natural-rock fireplace took up the far wall. The original artwork was worth ten times what Kate had paid for it. She’d always had an eye for talent.
“What are you thinking?” Rooster asked. “How do you feel?”
Max heard the hesitation in his friend’s voice. He didn’t know what he was supposed to think, what he should feel. Closing his eyes he tried to remember what it was like when he’d lived here with Kate and their daughter. Happy. He’d always love Kate, but she was gone and he was alive. He hadn’t realized how much life he was capable of until he’d met Bethanne and discovered he could feel again, love again.
“This is a beautiful house,” Rooster commented.
“Kate loved it,” Max said. And so had he. Their home had been a place where friends and family gathered, where they enjoyed good food and wine and one another’s company. “I did, too.”
He moved into the kitchen, and then the family room. Portraits of Katherine at different ages lined one wall; her wheelchair and special computer had been stored in her bedroom.
“I kept an eye on the wine cellar,” Rooster said.
Despite himself, Max grinned. “I assumed you would.”
“Do you want me to get us a bottle?”
That sounded like a good idea. “Go ahead.”
Rooster disappeared,