A Turn in the Road
“You’re joking, right? Parties for dogs?”
“Cats, too, and the idea’s really caught on. Baby boomers love their pets and are willing to spend hundreds of dollars to throw them birthday parties.”
“That I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to, but trust me, it’s big business. I’ve had offers to franchise, but it doesn’t feel right. Not yet. The problem with so many companies is that they expand too quickly. I don’t want to do that. Once the five stores are all operating at a comfortable profit margin, I’ll look into it again, but for the moment, I’m content.”
“It sounds as if you have a good head for business.”
“I like to think so.” She didn’t mention that most of what she’d learned had been gleaned from her years with Grant. She’d often remained in the background, but she’d absorbed a lot of business strategy and financial wisdom.
“So the divorce is actually responsible for your starting up the business?”
She nodded. “I had help.” She told him the story of the knitting class she’d joined and the friends she’d made, including Elise Beaumont. “Elise’s husband, Maverick, was a professional gambler—and he took a gamble on me.”
“One that paid off.”
“Yes, thankfully. So you’re right. Grant was indirectly responsible for my decision to start this business.”
“And now he wants to get back together with you?”
She cradled her mug with both hands and looked down into the cooling coffee. “He does, and I’m having a hard time deciding. I was with him for twenty years. We have a long, shared history, two children and a lot of happy memories. He realized he made a mistake and will do anything he can to rectify it…. I just don’t know if it’s possible to go back. I’ve changed and so has he.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
“I hope so.” She paused, then resumed, speaking slowly. “About a year after the divorce I woke up feeling miserable and depressed. Annie had let it slip that Grant and Tiffany were in Paris. Paris. I’d longed to visit Paris, and Grant knew that.
“All I could think about was how unfair it was that I should be alone, while Grant and Tiffany were off having the time of their lives. I buried my face in the pillow and just sobbed.” The memory of her grief and her tears that bleak morning was fresh in her mind even now. “I realized then that I had to forgive him.”
“What made you decide right then that you had to forgive him? And how did you manage it?”
“At first, I thought it would be impossible. I thought no one could forgive what Grant had done to me and our children. But then…” She bit her lip.
“Then I understood that unless I freed my heart of the bitterness and resentment I felt toward Grant, I’d be incapable of ever loving again. I had to unclench my fist of anger in order to fill my palm with happiness, with joy…with love.”
“And you’ve done that?”
“Max,” she whispered, unsure how to respond. “I’ve done my best but I’ve discovered forgiveness is a lot harder than it looks. Just when I think I’m completely over what he did, something will happen that shows me how far I still have to go.”
“Like what?”
“I told you he was upset with me because I took a risk and rode off with you. That angered me and I let him know it. Later, I felt bad because all Grant was really doing was telling me he was concerned about me and that he loves me. I was shocked by how quickly those old resentments returned.”
Max circled the straw around his empty soda glass. “How’s Grant’s relationship with his children?”
“Better.” Bethanne carefully chose the appropriate word. “Andrew’s had a hard time trusting his father. When we were first divorced, Annie acted out her anger but eventually she calmed down and now they’re as close as they used to be. I’m pretty sure he’s keeping tabs on me during this trip through Annie.” In other words, Grant had more than likely heard an earful about Max already.
“No doubt,” he mumbled.
“Andrew’s wedding complicates matters even more,” she said. “Grant wants us to stand together, united as a family, as we celebrate our son’s marriage. In theory it sounds like a good idea.”
“And you’d like that, too?”
“Yes, I suppose I would. Grant and I love our son and we adore Courtney. But…”
“But?”
She was astonished by how easily she could voice her feelings to him. “Grant and me together sends a message to our family and friends that isn’t accurate. We aren’t a couple and haven’t been for six years.”
Bethanne was grateful that Max didn’t share his opinions or offer advice. His willingness to remain silent told her that he trusted her judgment and her ability to make difficult choices. To make the decisions that were best for her and her children.
As the afternoon progressed, she saw that the ice cream parlor had started to fill up. Max looked around and noticed it, too. They were taking up spaces paying customers could use.
“Can I take you to dinner tonight?” he asked.
Max smiled, too. “The night isn’t over yet.”
They set a time and place to meet, and Bethanne went up to her room to change clothes and check on Ruth. Her mother-in-law sat on the bed, leaning against some pillows she’d stacked behind her, feet crossed at the ankles. She was knitting and watching television.
She looked up when Bethanne walked into their room. “I called Jane in Florida,” she said, blushing a little. “I used the hotel phone, which probably cost me more than I lost at the slots, but I wanted my friends to know where we were. Jane asked how soon we’d be in Florida.” She beamed with pleasure over the phone call.
“What did you tell her?”
Ruth’s grin seemed to brighten her entire face. “I told her we have a long way to drive, but we’ll get there. Jane said that since we’re in the area, it would be a shame not to see the Grand Canyon. We should go, don’t you think?”
“We really should,” Bethanne agreed. She opened her suitcase and unpacked the only dress she’d brought. “Have you heard from Annie?”
“Not a peep.”
Bethanne nodded and called her daughter’s cell. Annie explained that she and Jason had tickets for a show that evening; she was definitely amenable to visiting the Grand Canyon. “Might as well,” she said cheerfully. “Bye, Mom!”
Bethanne shook out her dress and hung it in the closet. While her back was to Ruth, she said, “Max invited me to dinner. Will you be all right by yourself?”
“You’re going out?” Ruth sounded surprised. “With that biker?”
“It’s Vegas.” Bethanne shrugged, but she did feel guilty about deserting her mother-in-law.
Ruth frowned. “Are you sure that’s wise?”
“I’ll be fine, although I hate the thought of you spending all your time in the room. You should go out, explore the town, enjoy yourself.” She took her dress into the bathroom to change into and set out a pair of strappy heels to wear.
Ruth didn’t seem keen on the idea of going out on her own. “I suppose I could find something to do,” she muttered when Bethanne reappeared. “But I wonder whether you should be having dinner with another man…” She left the rest unsaid.
“Ruth, don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Ruth glowered. “I hope you haven’t taken leave of your senses.”
Max met her in the lobby and did a double-take when he saw her. He’d changed, too, and wore slacks and a crisp cotton shirt, one she suspected from the crease marks was brand-new. It occurred to Bethanne that it hadn’t been practical to wear a dress if he planned on taking his bike. Rooster was with him and straightened when he saw her.
“Wow, you clean up nice,” the older man said.
“Thanks.” She ran her hand down the front of her pale pink sheath.
“What’s Ruth up to tonight?” he asked.
“She’s threatening to order room service.” Bethanne rolled her eyes at that. Ruth could pitch guilt with the best of them, but Bethanne refused to cancel her evening with Max.
Both men chuckled and Rooster sauntered over to the elevators. “Shall we?” Max said, offering her his arm. Once they were outside the hotel, the doorman got them a taxi. The restaurant Max took her to turned out to be a high-end steak house. Everything was delicious, from her salad to the rich dessert they shared. Max selected the wine, a rich cabernet sauvignon from France, and they discussed various Old and New World wines.
Max paid the bill, and when they left, he waved down a taxi. He gave the driver an address, and Bethanne asked, “Where are we going?” as he held her door.
He smiled, eyebrows raised. “To a biker bar.”
“Oh.” She’d feel terribly out of place.
“Don’t worry,” he said as he got in beside her. “It isn’t what you think.”
A few minutes later, they arrived at what appeared to be a honky-tonk tavern, where the band was loud and the crowd boisterous. Max found them a table in a shadowy corner and ordered drinks—pints of beer from a microbrewery she’d never heard of. Several couples were dancing, and before the waitress returned, Max led Bethanne onto the floor.
They danced until they were breathless. The live music was energetic, the atmosphere festive. Several men cast her questioning looks but she doubted their curiosity was due to her or the way she’d dressed. The men seemed surprised to see Max with a woman, which made Bethanne feel even more special.
When she was convinced she couldn’t dance another step, they went back to the table and collapsed into their chairs. Bethanne hadn’t spent that much time on the dance floor in years. Max dragged his chair next to hers and picked up his beer mug, draining half of it. Then he set the mug aside, slipped his hand around her shoulder and drew her mouth to his.
This time Bethanne didn’t hesitate. She closed her eyes and met him halfway. Winding her arms around his neck, she leaned into the kiss, which was gentle and soft. In the beginning. That quickly changed as passion flared between them. It’d been so long since she’d experienced desire, real physical need, that it rocked her. The kiss became so intense, she nearly slid off her chair.
Max seemed to feel just as shaken. He broke off the kiss and slumped back. His eyes met hers; he had the look of a man who was dazed, stunned. Bethanne understood, because she felt that same mixture of astonishment and wonder.