“Down,” I commanded.
Bones sat at my feet trying to control his excitement.
“You have to go out,” I said, leading him to the back door. The quiet house was growing on me even though it seemed more like home when filled with people and chaos. Bones wiggled as I unlocked the French doors to the patio. He butted his way through the door with his snout and bolted into the backyard.
I went back to the front porch to get the flowers, brought them to the kitchen, then lifted the majestic arrangement from the packing. Somebody had gone overboard. Scads of petals covered the card. Carefully, I plucked the mysterious message from puddles of orange, yellow, and purple hues. It was from Fletcher Thompson.
My assistant is sending you the photos from Chicago. I’m glad that Brook brought you along. I look forward to seeing your work. Attach the photos to an email and we’ll see what we can do. These flowers reminded me of you. I’m serious about Los Angeles.
Marveled with the invitation I knew, I wouldn’t go. I booted up my computer and opened my email. This was insane. Things like this didn’t happen to me. The thought of spending time with Fletcher Thompson bristled my instincts. I flipped up the top of my computer, then downloaded photographs of my holiday cows. I wrote Fletcher a note.
Thanks for the lovely flowers. Although Los Angeles sounds intriguing, I cannot take any more time off from work. Attached are the photos of my work. These were intended as illustrations for a children’s picture book. Your generosity is much appreciated. Sincerely, Maggie Abernathy.
Pressing the send button, I didn’t worry one iota about the outcome. The idea was a whim and John’s interest consumed me.
In the kitchen, I picked up the heavy vase with two hands, sniffed the flowers, and carried them to the coffee table in the living room. I plopped down on the cushy sofa and put my feet up. Heavy eyelids squashed the sense of productivity and treading upstairs for yoga pants. Nestling into the cushy sofa, I dozed off.
Far off rumbling shook me from my sleep. Disoriented, I blinked my eyes wondering how long I’d been out. My sleepy eyes beckoned for more shut-eye. I sat up, steadied myself, then rubbed the sleep from my face. Not sure if today was a dream or reality, I thought back, trying to discern what really occurred. Did I really meet Jenny in Judy’s doctor’s office? Did flowers arrive with an outrageous invitation, and did Fletcher really request to see my work?
One thing was for sure. Judy’s prognosis was positive, and I was relieved for her. I said a prayer and crossed my fingers. My phone buzzed. I read the text.
Hi, Mom. I’m back in Boston. Almost home. Talk to you soon. XO Bradley.
I moved my fingers to see the photo he’d attached of the Boston skyline. Bradley filled my heart. I wondered how it was possible. There were days that he engrossed me, physically, and emotionally. We shared tired days, days filled with angst and joy. Now the days we shared were much different. Our long distance connection consisted of thoughts for his wellbeing, thoughts for health and happiness, and for God to keep him safe. The hectic day-to-day life we shared in his youth was filed in the back of mind. Without him, there was no one to sidetrack me from the future, except me.
Standing up, I stretched, and thought some exercise would do me good. The sound of John’s bike unmistakable. I sauntered to the front window to see, but the street was empty and the sound had dissipated. The excitement of him tickled my skin. The doorbell rang, and I shuffled to see who was there. Peeking through the peephole, I grinned. John stood with a motorcycle helmet in hand. When I opened the door, the laugh lines around his eyes danced as he smiled at me.
“Wanna see if this helmet fits. You heard Bradley. He thinks it would be a good idea if you went for a ride.”
The thin smile grew as I took the heavy, black helmet from John. I inspected it for a skull and crossbones decal, but found nothing. It should’ve had a decal, something that quietly stated, badass.
“I don’t know,” I said, trying to picture myself on the back of John’s orange Harley.
“How about a ride? Chloe’s at her friend’s house for another hour and the weather is beautiful. We can drive by the lake?”
Enticed by the invitation, I nodded. The lake’s mystical power called to me. I loved the water. “I’ve never been on a bike before. I’m not sure I know what to do,” I said.
“You don’t have to do anything but sit tight and hold on. I’ll do the rest. “It’ll be fun.”
Narrowing my gaze, I crossed my arms. “Really?”
“Really,” he replied. “Those biking classes really paid off.”
I envisioned myself standing in the middle of the road. The only person impeding the path was, me. Bradley’s image flashed before me. He was a toddler, and I was holding him on my hip, singing and laughing, and then he was sixteen and we were celebrating his driver’s license, then he was twenty-one and holding a bottle of beer at a barbeque and then he faded into the distance, grown, smiling, nervous yet happy to be starting a new chapter in a place far from the place he’d grown up and I was left behind to find my way. The fork in the road more evident than ever. Dear Bradley was my beacon, our roles reversed.
The corner of my mouth lifted and I went back inside the foyer to check myself in the mirror. Putting on the black shell, I buckled the strap beneath my chin, my wavy strawberry blond hair ready for the wind.
“Looks great.” John smiled at me as I joined him on the porch. “We better go before we run out of time.” I tugged the door shut.
“That’s more like it,” John said, trotting down the front stairs ahead of me.
“This thing is heavy.” I reached up to adjust my helmet. It felt crooked, my neck scrunched from the weight pressing down. I thought about who might see us riding together and this time I didn’t care. John straddled the bright-orange Harley and gestured for me to join him on the sleek motorcycle. I swung my leg over and caught my foot on the seat. My hands landed on his thick sturdy shoulders as I caught myself. I settled into the leather seat and he smiled back at me.
“Hold on,” he said.
Holding onto his waist, I thought about our night together, his skin against mine, his breath in my ear, our bodies intertwined. He revved the engine and kicked up the stand. I tightened my grip with the jerk forward. He glanced back at me and gave a little wink, his green eyes sparkling in the early evening light.
We rolled out of the driveway and hung a left. The motor purred. I loosened my grip as I became more comfortable. John maneuvered the bike along the tree-lined streets of our quaint town of Grosse Pointe. The lake appeared on the horizon as we passed Grand Boulevard. Sunlight danced on the rippled water sending bright flashes of hope and dreams into the atmosphere. The sun at my back nudged me closer, prodded me to reach out, and grab the water’s offering.
John slowed the bike and veered into the park where so much had happened, a place that seemed so different to me from Bradley’s younger’s days. I pictured John strolling down the beach with Chloe, that horseshoe tattoo on his left shoulder, their voices dancing in the breeze, and their hands linked together. The sun had lit up Chloe’s freckled face as she stared up to her dad while I stood secretly contemplating what it would be like to be with him. And now I knew.
The man at the gate checked John’s identification. After parking the Harley, I undid the strap and wiggled out of the helmet. John watched my every move with a sly grin.
“You don’t mind if we stop here, do you?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“I thought you might like to sit by the shore, take a load off for a few minutes.”
My pulse raced. John and I rarely spent time alone like this. This was different territory than the front porch, the backyard or the kitchen where we knew Chloe lurked. We hadn’t been alone together since that night when everything seemed so right. My skin prickled. Brushing my hair away from my face, I lifted my chin to the sun.
“You act like you don’t know me,” John sai
d. “You seem so nervous.”
He was making me nervous, my pulse unsteady. Damn him. I smiled. “I do know you, most the time,” I said.
His brow furrowed. His laugh lines at the corners of his eyes creased when he flashed his rugged smile.
“Most of the time?” he said. “What does that mean?”
He slowed his pace as we neared the rocks at the shoreline. I followed as he stepped up and across one jagged rock onto a large flat boulder wide enough for both of us. He reached out to help me balance and I grabbed his hand. My legs dangled near the wet surface when I sat down. Lapping water threatened to slurp my toes like wet dog kisses.
“I didn’t even know this spot existed,” I said, scanning the horizon for freighters.
“Chloe found this place. We come down here when she’s feeling blue.”
“What would we do without Chloe?” I said, smiling.
John sighed.
I mulled over his sullen expression, his tender eyes displaying true feelings, feelings I could relate to when it came to Bradley. He rubbed his chin. His chest rose and fell with the swaying lake beneath our dangling feet.
“I don’t know. Life certainly wouldn’t be the same. That’s for sure,” he said, taking the black Ray Ban sunglasses from his collar.
“Yeah, it certainly would be different,” I mumbled. “I’d probably be living next door to a beauty queen and her perfect husband with three amazing kids.”
John chuckled.
I glanced at him. He tossed a pebble into the lake. Plunk. “I think I prefer you guys.” I shaded my eyes. The corner of my lip curled to the perfect blue sky.
“So you don’t think you know me, huh?”
“Only sometimes.” The black-and-white pictures of the ranch that Chloe shared were fresh in my mind. “Chloe showed me some photos of you and your family,” I said with smiling eyes. “I liked looking at them with her.”
“She told me.”
The breeze picked up. It rustled the loose sleeves of my tunic blouse. A shiver tickled the nape of my neck making my shoulders twitched. John scooted closer and put his arm around me.
“All you have to do is ask, Maggie.”
I settled into the curve of his body. It felt like home. “What if it doesn’t work out? I don’t know if I can survive another broken heart. It’s bad enough that we—” I paused, thinking about our night together.
“We what?” he asked.
“Um, slept together,” I answered.
“That was more than just sleeping together,” John said, kissing the side of my head. “You’re a mystery to me, Maggie Abernathy. Most the time you act like nothing has happened between us.”
I sighed. “I can’t help it. Tell me about your mom and your dad.”
“Well, you know my dad still lives on the ranch where I grew up. Winston Ludlow McIntyre,” he muttered in a low grumbling voice. “He’s got a great name. His parents knew what they were doing.” John threw another stone into the water.
I snickered. “He sounds like a movie star. I bet he’s burly.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to meet him in an alley.” John chuckled at his own words. “He’s got a few horses, but he likes his cattle.”
“What about your mom?”
“I think following my dad’s dream proved challenging, but farming and wrangling ran in her blood. She was as hearty as the land.”
My spine stiffened.
“She got sick one summer, said she wasn’t feeling good, but the doctors couldn’t find anything and then she just left us one night in her sleep. The woman was as healthy as a horse, stubborn as a mule. She and my dad belonged together. You could just tell.”
“Sounds like it.” I snuggled closer to John.
“Yeah, he got tired of city life. Had some money, moved to the country, met Mom, and settled down. Not sure why it was so important for me to get out of ranching if it was good enough for him. Maybe he thought I needed to experience the world to truly appreciate my roots.”
I contemplated Brook’s need to live in the city. “So Brook brought you to the hustle and bustle of city life? You wanted Brook to have what she wanted?” I asked, treading lightly.
“I never thought of it like that. I was on a fishing excursion with my buddy, Mac, in Mexico, and she was there on a shoot. We met in a bar. Somehow we stayed in contact and I met her in Paris on a break, my first and only time in Paris.”
“I see,” I said, remembering Chloe’s sticker collection. “Chloe told me she was your Paris Girl.”
“She’s right. I married Brook because she was pregnant.”
I stared at John’s profile as he squinted into the distance. He was just trying to right thing.
“I wanted to move back to Montana and practice medicine there, but Brook wouldn’t have it. She needed the city, any city. Coming to Detroit was never in the picture. Some days, I have no clue what went down to land me here.” He took a deep breath. “Actually, I do know, a job offer.”
“Well you won’t have to be here much longer,” I reminded him. “You’re putting the house up soon. Please don’t sell to a cat owner. Bones hates cats.”
John laughed then sobered quickly.
“I’m going to miss you,” I said, putting my hand on his chest.
“You don’t have to, Maggie. We can make it work,” he said.
“How? My work isn’t like yours. And I don’t have family in Montana.”
“Is that what’s holding you here Maggie?”
His glare rustled my nerves. “I made a commitment, John. I want to finish my career. I’ll have thirty years in three years and I’ll be able to collect my full pension. I just want to finish what I started.”
John tucked me closer. “I’m not so sure that’s the whole reason. Maggie, I couldn’t bear knowing you were living with a broken heart,” he said. I chastised myself for being impulsive with my thoughts. “I thought…” He paused and let out a sigh. “I just thought maybe …”
I stared into his eyes. I wasn’t the only one struggling, teetering between reality and fantasy. “I know, and I appreciate the thought. And you’re right, what we shared was something more. I feel it, too.”
John kissed the side of my head again. “We’d better go. I should get Chloe,” he said, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.
John reached for me. I took his hands as I lifted myself upright. He drew me close. My chin rested on his chest as my gaze met his. “You’re something else, John McIntyre.”
He smiled.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and I rested my hands on his thick shoulders. I tilted my head back, my lips met his, and the world seemed right, even if life seemed to make being together impossible. I leaned back and he released me. Was I capable of risking a life-altering change that would turn my world upside-down? I opened my eyes. John swept away the tear at the corner of my eye.
“We can finish this conversation later.”
I nuzzled my cheek into the palm of his hand wondering if I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
Chapter 24
I lit the fire, then arranged my book and hot tea on the coffee table before sinking into the sofa. Although Mondays were usually pretty rough, this Monday brought a different type of work. I never thought I’d run into Jenny McBride. We hadn’t spoken in a long time. A familiar hurt resurfaced as I thought about our early friendship. When I found out they passed me by, I confided in her, I’d no clue she applied, too. I sipped at my tea thinking about her red-rimmed eyes as she sat alone waiting to see the doctor at the cancer center. Maybe I was wrong to take her tactics as a blow. Maybe we could salvage something from the past, probably not, but I knew animosity didn’t breed loyalty and that was something I prided myself on.
Setting my teacup down, I diverted my thoughts to something more productive, reading. Picking up the book, I inspected the cover. A young woman crouched near the ground luring me into her world. I hadn’t read this author before, but
Judy assured me I would get sucked into the prose and magic.
“Sarah Addison Allen,” I whispered. “What do you have in store for me?”
Bones trotted by, sniffed around the table, and hopped up at the other end of the sofa. He put his head on the armrest then snorted in disgust.
“What? You had your walk, now it’s my turn.” I gave him the stink-eye. He puffed out his chest and let out a monumental sigh of disagreement. “Sorry, Charlie,” I said.
I fingered the cover of my newest novel thinking about John. He was asking me to do something I didn’t know if I had the guts to do. Chloe was doing fine here, couldn’t he just stay for her, for me? He was following his heart. I was trying to follow mine and although our attraction mutual, maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. The firelight bounced off the bright hues of Fletcher’s flowers arrangement.
I mimicked Bones’ sigh and opened to the first page of my current read. Not before long, I found myself immersed into a world other than my own. Night set in as I got lost in the pages. Bones nuzzled into my body with his wrinkly head on my thigh, my robe wet with drool. I checked the time, finished the chapter, then got up to head for bed. Bones yawned then stretched, his hind quarters in the air.
“Come on, boy. You’re going out.”
His tags jangled as he followed me out of the living room. There was a knock at the door. I peeked out at John, flipped on the foyer light, and opened the door slowly. “Hi, is everything okay?”
“You have a minute? I was hoping you were up.”
“Sure, meet me round back. I was just about to let Bones out.” I shut the door and headed to the kitchen. Bones sauntered ahead. His waggling bottom made me smile, along with John’s unexpected appearance. Bones ran out into the yard making the motion sensitive light go on. I heard the click of the latch when the gate shut. Standing on the patio in my pink fluffy robe, I peeked into the dusky evening, inspecting Chloe’s bedroom window. A dim glow lit up her room.
“Hey there,” John said. “Sorry to bug you.”
Maggie's Fork in the Road (Montana Bound Series Book 2) Page 16
