A Turn in the Road
He grinned at that.
“There’s nothing wrong with red wine,” she said.
“Nothing whatsoever. You might ask Max about that the next time you see him.”
Bethanne doubted she’d have the opportunity.
The waitress came for their order and quickly returned with another beer for Rooster and a glass of merlot for Bethanne. Actually, she was glad she’d run into Max’s friend.
“He nearly tore this town apart looking for you,” Rooster commented. He leaned toward her, his elbows propped on the table.
By contrast Max had made it sound as if he’d tracked her down without much effort. “Did he tell you why it was so important to find me?”
“No.”
“Where are Willie and Skunk?” She shouldn’t ask questions. What she should do was drink her wine, thank Rooster and go up to bed.
“They took off on their own when they got tired of racing from one casino to the next. Can’t say I blame them.”
“I don’t think Max is all that pleased he found me.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Frankly, I’m not sure of anything, including how I feel.” She thought for a moment. “I guess I’m sad, mostly.” Still, she felt honored that their brief time together had such a strong impact on him. It’d been the same for her, but the timing was all wrong. The situation, too. She tasted her wine, then held the glass by its stem. For some reason, she felt an urge to explain. “I can’t get involved with Max,” she said. “I just can’t. Not right now. I have responsibilities, decisions to make, and I need a clear mind.”
“You sound like Max.”
“How?”
“At every casino he said he didn’t need a woman messing with his mind. He said he wasn’t going to let a woman make him stupid.”
“What does that mean?”
“Hell if I know. You’ll have to ask him. All day, casino after casino, he kept saying he needed his head examined and yet he kept searching. I asked him what was so special about you, and he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t stop until he found you and I don’t think he would have, either.”
Despite herself, she smiled. “When he hugged me, he said I…belonged in his arms.”
“You hugged? That’s all?” Rooster sounded incredulous.
“That’s all.”
“He hasn’t touched another woman since Kate died. You’ve obviously had a powerful effect on him.”
She sipped her wine while she tried to make sense of all this. “He’ll be fine.” Taking her business card from her purse, she handed it to Rooster. “Give this to him and tell him to call me when he’s ready.” By then she would have reached her own decision regarding Grant. She’d know what she wanted. With time and distance she’d be able to think, to put her history with Grant and this new attraction in perspective. If she went back to Grant, she’d inform Max—provided she even heard from him again. If not…
Rooster put the card in his pocket and frowned at her. “You sure you want to do this?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
And she was.
Thirteen
Bethanne was putting on eye makeup when Annie, dressed in her pj’s, stumbled into the bathroom bleary-eyed, her hair a tangled mess.
“Did you have fun last night?” Bethanne asked. She’d lain awake a long time and heard Annie tiptoe into the room around three that morning. In fact, Bethanne doubted she’d slept more than a couple of hours the entire night. She’d been thinking of Max and their conversation. She couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if she’d let him kiss her. Well, it was too late to question that now.
“I had a blast,” Annie said as she ran a brush through her hair. “Would it be all right if you and Grandma did your own thing today?”
“Are you seeing Jason again?’
“That’s okay, isn’t it? I met his parents. They’re with him and his sister is, too. Apparently, a cousin of his got married yesterday afternoon. We hung out with his sister most of the night.”
“Sure. That’s fine.”
“I’m meeting his parents for breakfast. Why don’t you come with us?”
“Thanks, I will. But I don’t want you to stay out as late tonight, okay? We’re leaving in the morning.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
Annie dressed quickly in cotton capris and a tank top, and put on minimal makeup. Oh, the benefits of being in your twenties! Not that middle age didn’t have its compensations…
When Bethanne had finished her own makeup, her mother-in-law was sitting on the end of the bed waiting. “You ready for breakfast, Ruth?” she asked. “We’ve been invited to join Annie’s friend Jason and his family.”
“More than ready.” Ruth reached for her purse and together they left the room. They spent a delightful hour with Jason and his extended family, all of them friendly and outgoing people, then walked the Strip, visiting one casino after another. They rode the gondola at the Venetian and shopped at Caesars Palace, then ate lunch at Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant. Ruth’s energy surpassed Bethanne’s. Her mother-in-law might be attending her fiftieth class reunion, but she was physically fit and mentally alert. And she’d had a good night’s sleep, unlike Bethanne.
“Of course. You do what you want. This is your trip.”
Ruth looked unsure. “But I want you to enjoy yourself, too.” She paused. “Annie certainly seems to be having a good time.”
“I am, too. A wonderful time,” Bethanne assured her and, truthfully, she was.
“What will you do?” Ruth asked.
“Well, that Texas oilman and I have struck up a friendly relationship. I think I’ll go visit that slot machine again and see if he’s willing to hand over any more of those oil residuals.”
Her plans for the afternoon seemed to appease Ruth. Bethanne walked her mother-in-law back to the Hard Rock casino and sent her off to find the Wheel of Fortune slot machines. Then she strolled around until she came across the Texas Tea slots. Yesterday’s machine was available and she grabbed it. Once seated and comfortable, she opened her purse to take out her wallet. She wouldn’t have heard her cell phone if not for the fact that her purse was open. Automatically she pulled it out. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello,” she said breathlessly.
“Why did you give your business card to Rooster?”
“Max?”
“I’m asking why you gave Rooster your cell phone number,” he repeated.
“I don’t know,” she murmured, shocked to hear from him and equally pleased. Last night she’d reviewed their conversation over and over, and each time she’d felt a sense of loss. She needed to consider her relationship with Grant, but that didn’t mean she had to shut herself off from a new one, did it? Well, yes, it did if she and Grant were going to reconcile. She’d finally fallen into a troubled sleep and woke with no clear understanding of what her ultimate decision would be. What it should be.
“Yes, you do.”
He was right; she did know why she’d done it. Even as she handed Rooster the business card with that vague comment about how Max should call when he was “ready,” she knew. “I wanted to see you again.”
“Where are you?”
“Same casino. Same machine.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Bethanne’s hand trembled as she dropped her phone back inside her purse. She told herself she should get up and walk away that very minute. But she couldn’t do it.
Max seemed to recognize her indecision the moment he approached her. She started to talk, but he stopped her by pressing his finger against her lips. Taking her by the shoulders, he smiled down at her. “Haven’t you heard that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?”
She nodded.
“I respect what you told me. I appreciate that you’ve got a weighty decision to make. All I ask is that you give me today. I won’t ask for anything more. Can you agree to that?”
Again she nodded.
He smiled and slipped his arms around her, and they hugged.
His embrace felt warm and familiar as if this was where she belonged. Wasn’t that what he’d said—that she belonged in his arms? It was exactly how she felt, too. Why, oh, why did he have to be the one who made her heart flutter? Why, oh, why did it have to be now? If she was confused and uncertain when it came to Grant, meeting Max only complicated that situation.
“I could hold you like this all day,” he whispered into her hair.
She wanted that, too. Maybe, she mused, she was using Max as a distraction to avoid thinking about Grant.
“I have no intention of wasting what’s left of today,” Max said, clasping her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Okay.”
When they went outside, the summer sun beat down on them. The heat hadn’t reached its zenith and wouldn’t for several hours, but the sun shone with a brilliant intensity. Bethanne put on her sunglasses as they walked. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“A place I know not far from here.”
It turned out to be an ice cream shop a couple of blocks off the Strip. Bethanne slid into the booth and Max took the seat across from her. He ordered a vanilla ice cream soda, while Bethanne had coffee.
They talked for four hours straight. Four hours. The conversation drifted naturally from one subject to another. They discussed music, politics, books and friends. She learned he was in the wine distribution business. That was the reason Rooster had commented on her preference for wine over beer. Rooster owned an advertising agency and had worked with Max on his company’s account.
He asked her plenty of questions, too. He wanted to know about her children and she described Andrew and Annie with pride. In fact, they talked about everything—except Grant or Kate or his daughter. It was as though the subject of the people they’d once loved was strictly taboo.
About halfway through their conversation, Ruth phoned to say she was feeling a bit under the weather. Too much sun, too much food and her dismay that Vanna was a lot greedier than she’d expected. Bethanne was concerned, but Ruth claimed she’d feel better if she didn’t interrupt Bethanne’s fun with her Texas oilman. Bethanne didn’t enlighten her mother-in-law about where she really was or who she was with.
“Tell me more about your business,” Max said after she’d put away her cell. He held her card in his hand and turned it over two or three times as if there was some invisible message scrawled across the back.
“I never dreamed Parties would be as successful as it is. All I set out to do was make enough money to take care of my children and keep our home. The shock was how timely this idea turned out to be.” She smiled. “There was an article about me in the Wall Street Journal when we added birthday parties for cats and dogs.”