Page 58 of Risk It All
Chapter Nineteen
Max
Aweek later, I drive up the long drive to Madeleine's parents' home in Virginia. I'm tired, annoyed, and ready for a fight. In the week since leaving Springer's, I identified the area of Mexico that Madeleine had taken the picture, but when I got there, she'd already left. I flew to New York, and after two days determined she wasn't at her apartment. In a last-ditch effort, I'd flown to Washington, D.C. and pushed my way into Eleanor's office; a move that nearly got me arrested. Fortunately, Eleanor took pity and told me that Madeleine was in Virginia visiting her parents.
I considered waiting until she left her parents’ home before seeing her. Barging in and demanding we talk isn't a good way to meet the parents. But who knew where she'd be off to once she left Virginia? I can't risk losing her trail again. So, now I'm at her family home, where I park my rental car and look up at the large Georgian-style brick home.
I’d long ago shed the feelings of unworthiness based on my childhood. I mingle with the rich and don’t care if they look down on me because of my upbringing. But now as I stand in front of her family’s home, I wonder if they’d accept me. Hainsworths are old money. The family business and wealth, first built after the civil war, is run by Madeleine’s uncle who as the oldest son took over the management. Her father is a professor, although I doubt he has to work as the family is rich and he married well.
“Can I help you, sir?” an elderly man in a black suit says when he opens the door to my knock.
“I'd like to see Madeleine Hainsworth.”
“Is she expecting you?”
“No.”
The butler waits for me to say more. When I say nothing, the man asks, “Whom should I say is calling?”
“Max.”
The butler's narrow eyes scrutinize me. I decide the expensive, albeit wrinkled, Brioni suit I'm sporting convinces the butler that I'm not a homicidal maniac.
“Wait here and I'll see if Ms. Hainsworth will see you.”
I nod, but follow the butler, who makes his way to a room off the foyer.
“Sir, I said—”
I ignore him and walk into the room. There are others there, but the only person I see is Madeleine. My heart stops and it's all I can do not to run to her, hold her, and never let her go. She's even more beautiful than I remember. Her auburn hair is down, hanging in natural curls around her shoulders. She's wearing a flowery, sleeveless dress that makes her look like a summer day. What I don't see is the glint in her eyes, or the energy, the zest for life I remember.
She looks up at me, her eyes wide with surprise. She stands, but doesn't move toward me.
“What's going on?” another man asked.
“This man, Max, wants to see Ms. Hainsworth,” the butler explains.
“Which one?” A woman who looks around Madeleine’s age asks. She looks from me then to Madeleine. “Never mind. You must be Max.”
I don’t respond. I stare at Madeleine like I’m afraid if I look away she’ll vanish again. “You left something in London.”
She gives me a quizzical look.
“Me. You left me.” If that doesn't make it clear why I'm here, I don't know what will.
“Should I call the sheriff?” the butler asks.
“I've been looking for you for over a week.” I'm willing to risk getting thrown out or going to jail. So, I continue to plead my case. “I've been to Mexico, New York, and Washington. All I want is to talk to you and then if you want me to go, I'll go.”
“Let him stay,” the woman to my right says.
I wait for Madeleine to say something, but she remains quiet. I’m not sure if she’s shocked that I’m here or wishing I wasn’t.
“Well, Max, we're waiting,” the other woman says.
If she's not going to talk, maybe she'll listen.
I take a breath and tell her what I should have said in London. “I love you, Madeleine.”
