She slept late, since it had been close to 4:00 a.m. when he had brought her back to her car, then followed her home.
She wouldn’t even have woken up when she did, except that Angie came in to tell her it was almost noon, and she was supposed to be ready for Max to come by in an hour—they had to finish the play.
When he picked her up, he was all business again. They were going to take an hour to visit the newlyweds, then get started.
Back in his hotel room, they got right to work.
One cousin was determined that Rebecca go to trial for what she had done. The young police officer was falling in love with her. There was a great deal of money at stake, since the patriarch’s entire fortune had been left to her.
Rebecca herself was ready to go to prison for what she had done. The young officer wanted her to fight, but she had reminded him that she had helped her grandfather go peacefully, gently.
The play climaxed when the rest of the family slowly turned away from the vengeful cousin, swayed by the policeman’s passionate speech about the value of life lying in its quality, not its quantity.
At the end, a courtroom scene, the wait for the verdict, and a moment between the police officer and Rebecca. The belief that there would be a future…
“Is it done?” Aurora asked.
He shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll do a little tweaking, but it’s probably the most amazing play I’ve ever written. No, I didn’t write it. We wrote it.”
“I wrote a few speeches.”
“Don’t downplay your contribution.”
“I don’t. It’s still your play.”
He shrugged again, looking at his watch. “It’s almost six.”
She hesitated. “It’s all right. Angie is staying with a friend.”
He frowned. “Not—”
“Josh? No. He’s been calling like crazy, but she’s been hanging out with her friends. She even went to a club up in St. Augustine last night.”
“Good for her.”
He watched her.
She expelled a long breath. “We finished the play. You were supposed to pick me up jubilantly and spin me around, and then you were supposed to ask me—beg me—to stay.”
He smiled. The chair fell over as he got to his feet. He swept her up, spun her around, then set her down so slowly that she could feel every inch of him.
“My last night in Paradise. I’m begging you to stay.”
He dropped her off at her house at ten the next morning, saying he had some business matters to take care of for Mike before he left. She reminded him that it was Sunday, and he assured her that he knew that, but the things he had to do could be done on a Sunday.
At twelve she attended the nondenominational service at the home with Mary. At one, she had lunch with her grandmother and Mike.
At four, one hour before he had to leave for the airport, Max arrived. She offered to drive him to the airport, but he declined, saying that he had to return the rental car.
He said goodbye in the rec room, being incredibly circumspect, given that they had an audience of seniors.
Aurora awkwardly shook his hand.
“Kiss her, you fool,” a throaty voice called out.
Aurora turned, astonished. Mr. Hollenbeck had spoken.
“Thanks,” Max called. “I will.”
Mary and Mike look astonished as he matched his actions to his words.
The rest of the room applauded, but then Max was gone, and she was alone.
In the days that followed, she discovered that Paradise was just a place. The moon continued to ride the night sky. The breezes blew by. The surf pounded the white sands of the beach.
But it had only come close to heaven when Max had been there.
She was busy, though. She had to help Mike and Mary get ready to move. She had to make her final choices of plays, cast and crew for the coming season. Angie needed help, as well, as she finished her summer classes and prepared for her last tests.
Life went on.
Alone in the theater with Jon one day, she found herself asking him just what her splurge with Max had accomplished.
“Happiness,” he told her.
“Great. And now he’s back in New York. Forgetting all about me.”
Jon sighed. “Aurora, Aurora. No one is eternally happy. But we only get to go around once. So we reach out for things that we want, and we savor them while we’ve got them. And sometimes…well, think about it. Mike and Mary are older, they know they don’t have all that much time left, so they’re going to make the most of what they do have. That’s how we should all live.”
She frowned. “Jon, that didn’t help me any.”
“Ask yourself this, were the moments you had with him worth it?”
“I don’t know. Because…”
“Because…?”
“I think I fell in love with him. And now…”
“Now…?”
“I didn’t know that I was lonely before. I didn’t know that I…needed someone.”
Jon didn’t have an answer for that one. He stood up and patted her on the shoulder. “Think of it this way. You’re going to be a better, stronger person. You’ll probably even be a better writer.”
That night, she was working on the theater’s budget when Angie came rushing in from her bedroom. She’d been watching television in her room, but had come out to turn on the set in the living room.
Max was on one of the entertainment channels, answering questions about his upcoming show. There had been a preproduction party at Sardi’s. Max was pictured with one of the most stunning young women Aurora had ever seen. Jena Ronson. His actress.
The piece was over almost as soon as it had begun.
“Well, there goes Max,” Aurora murmured.
“There goes Max.” Angie said. “Mom, you missed the beginning. He said he had a co-writer on the play. He said it was you!”
“That was very…decent of him.”
“Mom, I bet you’re going to get some bucks for this.”
“Good. We can always use bucks.”
“You should call him right now and thank him.”
Aurora hesitated. “I will.”
She didn’t call him, though. After all, he hadn’t called her. She just retired to her room, telling Angie that she was exhausted and trying to remember all the good advice she had ever given her daughter. There was no reason for her to be so hung up on Josh, because there were lots of other men in the world. She was young, with life stretching before her. She was a beautiful woman with a compassionate heart. The world was hers.
Okay, so Aurora wasn’t exactly young herself. But neither was she old. She had a life. The world was still there to be conquered.
But that night, she indulged in a fit of tears that might have rivaled her daughter’s.
The days marched on.
She went out with a very handsome professor from the community college. There wasn’t a thing wrong with the man. She just wasn’t the least bit attracted to him. She even avoided a good-night kiss.
She almost asked Angie for advice.
Two weeks after Max had left, she sat cross-legged on the stage of the Paradise Playhouse, the moment of reckoning before her. Plays, plays…plays.
“One Shakespeare. We always need one Shakespeare,” Jon insisted.
“Macbeth this year,” she said.
“My favorite,” Jon agreed.
The door opened. Aurora shielded her eyes from the stage lights and looked down the aisle, then jumped awkwardly to her feet.
Max.
She was in cutoffs and an old production T-shirt. He was in perfectly pressed chinos and a polo shirt, his jacket tossed over his shoulder.
“Max,” she murmured. “What are you doing here? I saw you on TV. I should have thanked you for the mention.”
“You could have called, you know.” He didn’t sound happy. He paused and stared up at her as he reached the stage.
“I think I left my…my…oh, hell, I didn’t leave anything backstage, but I’m getting out of here,” Jon said.
Aurora looked at him with a scowl, but he walked away anyway.
“You could have called me, too,” she said.
“The hell with that. I have a proposal for you. A proposition.”
“Oh?” she said carefully.
He nodded, looking at the stage. “You’re making your final choices for the season now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Forget one of them. You’re doing my comedy.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and you’re starring in it.”
“Here? In Paradise?”
“Here, in Paradise. Fifty-fifty creative control.”
“And what do I get?”
“You get a Max Wulfson play.”
“And that’s…all that I have to do? Schedule the production and act in it?”
He leaped up on the stage and walked over to her. “No.”
“What else?”
“You have to have sex. Lots of it.”
“With whom?”
He sighed, throwing his jacket down. “Me, of course. Well?”
“I have to think.”
“About what?”
“You’re still a Yankee.”
“Right. And we won the war. And though I’ll grant you the beauty and grace of the South, I want you to learn that the North can be an incredible and vibrant place, as well. Maybe not Paradise, but…”
“Max,” she said, backing away slightly. “There’s still a lot to think about. We live in separate worlds. And you…well, you have a glamorous, sophisticated and…beautiful actress-filled life. This isn’t as easy as you think. I want more…. I…” He was dogging her footsteps, coming closer even as she backed away. “Max, there are some serious issues here. We barely know each other. And there’s the distance factor to consider—”
She broke off. He had backed her into the wings.
“Shut up, Aurora,” he said. “Because this—” he kissed her, then finished the sentence against her lips “—is all that matters.”