“For us.”
Bethanne braced her forehead against his chest, and it looked as if she was about to cry again. When he’d first told her of his decision, his wife had been so overwhelmed she’d been unable to speak.
Now that it looked hopeful that Rooster and Lauren would get back together, moving the wine-distribution company to the Puget Sound area made even more sense.
The doorbell chimed, and Bethanne and Max broke apart. “Will you get that?” his wife asked, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her gloved hand.
Max shook his head. “I have a feeling you’re going to want to answer this yourself.”
Bethanne frowned, and when the doorbell sounded again, she hurried into the house and to the front door. After a couple moments, Max wandered back into the kitchen in time to see Bethanne and her daughter hugging each other.
“I’m so sorry, Mom, so sorry. I’ve been an idiot about you and Max. Can you both forgive me?”
Bethanne sobbed and clung to her daughter.
They continued to hold each other for a long time. Max walked over to the corner of the kitchen counter and pulled out a box of tissues. Bethanne’s gaze caught his, and she smiled through her tears.
“Dad lied to me,” Annie said as the two women came into the kitchen arm in arm. “And then he tried to lie his way out of it.”
Max handed both women a fresh tissue. Then, to his surprise, Annie broke away from her mother and hugged him. “I need to apologize to you, too. I’m sorry for the horrible things I said to you, Max. You love my mom, you honestly love her.”
“I do, and I care deeply for you, too, Annie. You’re part of Bethanne, and I love those she loves.”
“I’ve been such a brat.”
“You won’t get an argument from me,” Max said and chuckled.
“What happened?” Bethanne asked after dabbing the moisture out of her eyes.
Annie’s gaze went from her mother to Max and then back again. “Dad stopped by this morning, and he complained about my brand of coffee. He’s really picky when it comes to coffee, so I volunteered to get him a cup from the Starbucks on the corner.”
From what Max knew of the other man, Grant was picky about a lot of things other than a certain brand of coffee.
“I left,” Annie continued, “and realized it was cooler out than I had expected, so I came back into the condo for a sweater.”
Max suspected it had been something like this.
“Dad didn’t hear me come in. He was in the kitchen on his cell with his back to me, talking to a woman named Monica. It was clear he was involved with her romantically, which I sort of knew, because she calls the office three and four times a day, always with a convenient excuse.
“I tried to ignore what Dad was saying, but it was pretty graphic as he described what he intended to do to her physically.”
Bethanne shook her head and held up her hand. “I get the point.”
“I went into my bedroom and then the doorbell rang and it was Max. Dad answered the door, and I was stuck in the hallway. I didn’t want Dad to know I’d been listening in on his conversation, and at the same time I couldn’t very well walk out the front door.” She glanced over at Max. “Do you want to tell Mom what my father proposed?”
“No, it isn’t necessary. Your mother already knows what kind of man your father is.”
“And now I know, too. I can’t believe I was so blind; I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
“We all do foolish things,” Bethanne said in a comforting way, eager to forgive her daughter.
“Can I have my old job back?” Annie pleaded.
“Yes, oh, yes. I’ve missed you so much … everyone has.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
Mother and daughter hugged again, and then, to his amazement, Annie let one arm loose and stretched it out toward Max.
Chapter Thirty-five
Lauren’s phone chirped, and even knowing Rooster had left his cell behind, she grabbed it, hoping, praying it was her husband. Hope did indeed spring eternal.
“Hello?” She made her greeting a question, a plea, desperately wanting to hear from Rooster.
“Lauren, it’s Elisa.”
Her optimism was dashed against the sharp-edged rocks of reality. “Oh, hi,” she said, doing her best to recover and hide her disappointment.
“I take it you haven’t heard from Rooster.”
“Not a peep.”
“You’ve been waiting for him how long now?”
“A week today.” Although it felt like a year. Each day dragged by with a slowness that was nothing short of cruel. Lauren had done everything she could think to keep busy. She’d cleaned his house, rearranged furniture, baked cookies, shopped for groceries, finished knitting the baby blanket for her sister, and then, in a spirit of confidence, knit another for her and Rooster’s child if she were ever to become pregnant.
“He hasn’t been in touch with anyone?”
Silly question. “No.”
“Not even with Max?”
“No.” Lauren had to believe Max wouldn’t keep anything from her. If Rooster had been in contact and Max had lied about it, then he was a good actor. He seemed as concerned about his friend as Lauren was.
“Surely Rooster won’t stay away much longer.”
That certainly was Lauren’s wish. “Who can say? Max told me after he lost his wife and daughter he took off on his motorcycle for something like three years.”
“Three years? You don’t think Rooster will be gone that long, do you?”
“I … I don’t know.” All Lauren could do was hope and pray that he would feel her love and that would draw him back. Each night she lay in bed, sleepless and filled with anxiety, willing Rooster to head home. Home to her. Home to the life they would build together.
Lauren had so much she wanted to say. So much she longed to tell him. First and foremost, it was important that he know how much she loved him and wanted to make their marriage work. It’d taken her this long to find a man she wanted to spend her life with, and she refused to give up without giving their relationship every opportunity to succeed.
Elisa hesitated. “I hate to ask this, I really do, but Garry and I need to know how long you intend to wait for Rooster. Will you remain in California and find work there? Basically, I’m asking if Garry and I should hire another sales associate.”
Lauren wished she had an answer, but she simply didn’t know.
Elisa must have sensed her uncertainty, because she added, “If you decide you’ll remain in Santa Rosa another week or so, Garry and I will hold your position.”
“Another week?” Lauren felt incapable of making a simple decision.
“I don’t want to sway you one way or the other,” Elisa added. “I’ve learned my lesson, and I apologize again for not keeping my opinions to myself.”
“You’re my friend, Elisa, and friends speak their minds.”
“Perhaps, but with you and with Katie, I really blew it.”
Hearing her friend’s humble apology boosted Lauren’s spirits.
“All Garry and I need is some guidance regarding your plans.”
Lauren knew she couldn’t continue to stay in California. Eventually, she would need to return to Seattle. She had financial responsibilities, and she needed her job to meet those obligations. “I’ll talk to Max and get back to you.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for your call.” Elisa and Garry had been more than patient. It would be a disservice to them to keep them dangling much longer.
Monday morning, when Lauren knew Max would be at work, she took Rooster’s car and visited her husband’s best friend. They’d touched base a couple of times over the last seven days, but Max claimed he had nothing to tell her. Lauren believed him. Max was concerned, too.
His assistant, a grandmotherly woman, showed her into Max’s office. He was staring at his computer screen and frowning when she came into the room. He glanced up, saw her, and blinked.
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“Lauren.” He stood, walked around his desk, and gave her a brief hug. “Have you heard from Rooster?”
“No. You?”
Max shook his head. “I don’t think we need to worry. Not yet.”
“I came because I need your advice.”
“Sit down.” Max gestured toward the chair for her to take a seat. Still standing, he leaned his backside against the edge of his desk, stretched out his legs, and crossed his ankles. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“My boss needs to know what my plans are, if she should hold my job or not.”
Max appeared as unsure as she felt.
“I’d like to stay and wait for Rooster,” she admitted, “but I can’t remain in California indefinitely.”
“To stay or to leave? That’s a good question.” He rang his assistant and asked her to bring in coffee, which she did. It seemed Max needed the caffeine to help him think this through. After a bit, he returned to his desk chair and asked, “How are you holding up?”
She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I just wish Rooster would let one of us know where he is.”
“I know. I was hoping …” He left the rest unsaid.
“Does he do this sort of thing often?”
“No, never.” Max appeared as perplexed by his partner’s behavior as she was.
“Why wouldn’t he take his cellphone?” she pleaded. This was the most frustrating thing about Rooster’s disappearance. At least then she’d be able to text him. That way he would know that she loved him and wanted to take whatever steps were necessary to make their marriage viable.
“I suspect he either forgot it or simply chose not to be bothered.”
“By me?”
“By anyone,” Max clarified.
“What if he’s been in an accident? What if he never comes back? What if a gang jumps him and leaves him for dead? What if he decides he wants nothing more to do with me? What if—”
“Lauren, Lauren …” Max stopped her, holding up his hand. “I don’t have any answers for you. I wish I did. I will tell you that Rooster can take care of himself, so you shouldn’t worry on that account. He needs to clear his head, and once he does, he’ll be back. How long that will take is anyone’s guess.”
Cupping the foam coffee cup, Lauren let his words sink in. All at once she felt clarity and knew what she needed to do. “I’m going back to Seattle. I’ll give Rooster the rest of this week before I book my airfare. I’ll tell Elisa and Garry I’ll return to work … I don’t know what else to do.” And really there were only a few options available to her.
Max nodded. “I can’t say I blame you. If I hear anything from Rooster, you’ll be the first person I contact.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Not wanting to take up any more of his time, she left.
The rest of the day dragged, as did Tuesday and Wednesday. The key, Lauren realized, was keeping herself busy. It was either that or go stir-crazy with worry. The what-ifs continued to plague her like pesky mosquitoes on a muggy summer night. Once a question came into her mind, it was a painful itch that was hard to ignore and a constant nuisance. She did her best to swat down the doubts, but with little success.
Wednesday night she was sitting up in bed reading when she thought she heard the faint sound of a motorcycle in the distance. As the harsh engine noise grew closer, she was convinced it had to be Rooster.
Right away her heart started to pound hard and fast. Certain now that it must be Rooster, Lauren leaped out of bed and ran a complete circle around the room before she could think clearly. Once she did, she grabbed a hairbrush and jerked it through her hair. Then she reached for her favorite cologne. In her rush, she sprayed her face instead of the pulse points in her neck and then was forced to blink several times as her eyes filled with tears from the irritation.
Rather than turn on the lights, she hurried downstairs and stood in the middle of the living room in her long white nightgown, clenching her hands in front of her, waiting to surprise her husband.
Sure enough, a few minutes later the door off the garage opened and Rooster stepped into the house. His boots made clunking sounds against the hardwood floor as he walked into the darkness. He had a side table just off the kitchen that Lauren had moved when she rearranged the living room furniture. When he went to drop his keys where he normally did, they crashed onto the floor.
“What the …” he muttered and switched on the lights. Instantly, a yellow softness flooded the area.
She wanted to say something, but her heart was in her throat as excitement and joy filled her. Her first glance at him nearly took her breath away. He looked tired and road weary, as if he’d been on his bike for days without end. His shoulders were slouched slightly forward as if he was deeply depressed.
Lauren wasn’t sure when he saw her or even if he did. “Hello, Rooster,” she whispered.
He stood half a room away and froze, glaring at her as if she were an apparition, as if he wasn’t sure he should believe it was her.
In her mind, Lauren had fantasized about their reunion. Being a die-hard romantic, she had envisioned him rushing to take her in his arms, kissing her senseless.
Instead, Rooster stared at her as if she was the last person on earth he wanted to see. She waited for him to comment, to say something, but he remained stubbornly silent.
“I moved a few things around,” she said, motioning toward the table. Her voice sounded odd even to herself. “Actually, I sort of rearranged the entire living room.”
His gaze left hers as he glanced around, and as his eyes scanned the room, his frown deepened. It went without saying that he didn’t like what she’d done.
Lauren felt she should explain. “While I was waiting for you … I read a book on feng shui and decided to put a few of the basic principles into practice.” She wanted to explain more of what she’d learned but hesitated. He still hadn’t said a word, didn’t give her even the slightest indication that he was pleased to find her in his home.
He certainly didn’t seemed impressed with her efforts. “What else did you do?” he asked … demanded.
She made flopping motions with her hands. “I baked oatmeal-raisin cookies.”
“I hate oatmeal.”
His words felt like an accusation, as if she’d purposely set out to bake something he would dislike. “They’re in the freezer …”
“The freezer?”
“I tend to eat when I’m upset, and so I removed the temptation.”
He hadn’t moved one step closer to her. Lauren had waited for this moment for days, her heart in her hand, and nothing was turning out the way she’d hoped … the glorious reunion she’d envisioned.
“What are you doing here?” he asked next, and again it was more demand than question.
The lump in her throat made it impossible for her to speak. Apparently, she’d made a huge mistake, and Rooster wasn’t willing to give them another chance. While he’d been away, he’d cleared more than his head; he’d cleared his heart of her as well.
Rather than even attempt an answer, she swallowed hard and nodded, letting him know that she received his message loud and clear and she would leave. Tears clouded her eyes. They both remained stock-still.
“You want me to leave, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
His action told her that was exactly what he wanted, but his eyes claimed just the opposite. His gaze remained intently focused on her, as if he couldn’t make himself look away.
It was that small encouragement that she clung to, that tiny hope that all wasn’t lost.
“I won’t do it,” she whispered, doing her best to keep the trembling out of her voice. “I’m not going away.” Ignoring the hard set of his mouth and the unwelcome in his stance, she moved toward him, not stopping until she stood directly in front of him. Right away she noticed that he couldn’t look at her. He closed his eyes as if some great battle was taking place inside of him.
Standing on tiptoes, she brus
hed her mouth over his. Her lips were soft, light, and gentle.
Rooster remained frozen, unyielding.
Refusing to be thwarted, she kissed him again, this time with more feeling, slanting her mouth over his, letting him know she wasn’t going without a fight.
She felt him weakening, opening to her, but it lasted only a moment before he jerked his head away. He took a step back, putting some distance between the two of them.
“What are you doing here?” Rooster asked again.
Lauren rocked back on her bare feet, accepting now that it simply might be too late and she might have already lost him. Tears pooled in her eyes and she bit her lower lip.
All at once Rooster swore under his breath. Within the space of a single heartbeat he came to her, taking hold of her by the shoulders, half lifting her from the floor. “I don’t care … I don’t care why you came … It doesn’t matter … I’m just glad you’re here.” He held her tightly against his upper body as though to absorb her right through his clothes and into his skin.
Lauren looped her arms around his neck and clung to him. And then he was kissing her as if he was a starving man who’d stumbled upon a Thanksgiving feast, as if he couldn’t taste enough of her fast enough. With her hands framing his face, she kissed him with the same hunger, with the same intensity, until they were both panting, nearly oxygen deprived.
When he finally broke away, Lauren swayed off balance. His hands on the curve of her shoulders were all that kept her upright. His own shoulders heaved as he held her at arm’s length.
After several moments, he seemed to regain his breath. “I need a shower and a shave.” He paused long enough to kiss her and added, “Then we can talk.”
“I’ll make coffee.”
Rooster nodded, and Lauren started to turn away, but her husband caught her hand and stopped her and raised her fingers to his lips, kissing the back of her hand.
As though it pained him to be away from her longer than necessary, he headed into the bedroom while Lauren went into the kitchen. She had just pulled out the coffeemaker when she heard Rooster call her name.
“For the love of heaven, woman, what did you do with my underwear?” he called out.