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Bo's Journey Home - Chapter 27 When Bo left Nora’s house, he was furious. He slammed his car door, skidded out of the driveway and roared off down the street. “I’m the one who ups and leaves!” he thought to himself. “Let’s just think about this,” Bo continued out loud. “Who’s the one who ran off to the hospital to have brain surgery without me?”   He reached the end of her block and turned to his right. “And who’s the one that chased me from the beach house when Todd was holding her hostage there?”   He reached the next block and made another arbitrary turn. “And who’s the one who ran off to the cabin with Rachel, ready to flee the country and leave me behind?” A few blocks more and he made another arbitrary turn. “And who’s the one that ran off to some motel and called Sam after the whole Georgie thing?”   He continued driving, taking more arbitrary left and rights, his mind on over drive. “Okay,” he thought again. “Maybe he did go over the edge when Drew had died, shutting her out. But he had felt dead inside, like a stone. He hadn’t wanted to bring her down with him.”   Without realizing it, he had driven into a residential neighborhood and subconsciously let up on his accelerator. He drove slowly down the street taking notice of where he was. As he glanced around the lighted homes, he recognized the street and felt his chest begin to constrict. In his anger, he had driven ‘home’. He hadn’t done this subconsciously in years; not since he had thought he had lost Nora in the train wreck. He stopped his car in front of the only darkened house on the block. He glanced up at the dark house, before pulling his car over to the curb and turning off the key.   He glanced down at his watch and then back at the dark house. The timer for the lights should have come on by this time. He didn’t want the house to be broken into or appear vacant. Why did he bother having a caretaker if the house wasn’t being looked after?   He could call the caretaker and have him come check. But that was kind of stupid. Bo was here now. He should go inside and check the timers himself. The question really was, could he? He sat in his car a few minutes longer, convincing himself he could do it. He finally jerked on the door handle and slowly got out of his car. The walk up the long driveway seemed to take forever. He nervously twirled his key ring around his index finger as he walked. He got to the front door and started to put the key in the lock, but his hand began to shake slightly. He backed away from the front door until he felt the stone wall behind him and leaned against it. He felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his head swimming with dizziness. His stomach started to churn and he felt like he was going to be sick. He bent his body over at the waist, his hands clutching his pants at the knees, trying to keep himself from falling, taking in a few deep, cleansing breaths.   The last time he was here, Nora had been here too. He had come for the corner stone. He had split the corner stone with her and told her he was selling the house; that they both needed to move on. It had been a real good-bye for them. He had put their house on the market, received offers, and then refused every one. And he still wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t even stepped foot in the house since that last day with her. Why couldn’t he let go of it? He took a few more deep breaths. After a few minutes, his head was clearer and he felt a little better. It was now or never. In one motion, he stood upright, walked purposely to the door, inserted his key and pushed the front door open, stepping over the threshold and shutting the door and the rest of the world out behind him.   From the entrance, he glanced quickly around. The downstairs was semi-illuminated by the light of the full moon streaming in from the wall of windows off to his right. The living room was empty, except for one table with a darkened lamp over by the windows, several boxes of light bulbs on the floor. He moved from the entrance into the center of the living room. He stood completely still, just his eyes moving around the room; then he slowly turned in place, making a complete circle as he glanced around, stopping again. He could almost hear the sounds from their past. He closed his eyes, remembering the first time he had brought her here and a small smile came to his face. He opened his eyes and moved towards the stairs.   He made his way up to the second floor, turning to his right at the top of the steps. He knew his way with his eyes closed. He reached the closed bedroom door, turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open, staying outside the boundary of the room. He leaned forward, stretching his neck to see around the door, pushing it open further. His heart was pounding, the pressure building as if there were a strap of steel wrapped around his chest. He rubbed his forehead slightly and stepped into the empty room. Well, almost empty. One thing remained; a trophy on the mantle. He could almost hear their laughter, echoing off of the bare walls.   He walked over to the windows, looking out and down at the large yard. The bed had been right here. He sat down on the floor, lying back on ‘his side of the bed.’ He closed his eyes and the memories that he kept buried deep within his heart came rushing to the surface. Once he released them, they couldn’t come fast enough, like waves from a storm, crashing on the surf. But the waves were his tears, and the surf was his face. Thoughts of her and of them together could still move him to tears. They had lived here, danced here, loved here, and ended, here. So many dreams, so many memories. He wanted them all back. He wanted his life back, the one they had planned together. But he knew they couldn’t go back. There was nothing for them in the past. Or was there? Was that the answer he had been looking for all of these years? Maybe, they had to step back, in order to move forward. They had never really done that together; revisit the past.   He opened his eyes, wiped at the tears, and looked to his left, almost expecting to see her there. Sometimes, at night, he could still hear her breathing next to him. He wondered if she experienced the same sensation. He sat up and glanced around the empty room and suddenly realized he felt comfortable. The fear and anxiety he had experienced at the front door was gone, replaced by a comfort basked in familiarity and calmness. The tears that had come so quickly to his eyes were gone, replaced by a sparkle he couldn’t even see. Matthew was right. This was it. The three of them could do this.   He stood up quickly, leaving the bedroom and heading back downstairs. He took out his cell phone and placed a call to one of his father’s assistants. “Leo?” he said into the phone. “It’s Bo Buchanan. I need a huge favor.” Bo smiled as he continued to talk To be continued…