A Turn in the Road
“Your family’s grown,” Bethanne continued. “You can come for visits and vice versa.”
“My friends are in Seattle.”
“Same goes for them. Plus you’ll make new friends and reconnect with old ones.” Bethanne leaned over and squeezed her arm. “Do you love Royce?”
“With all my heart, and he loves me.”
“Then you’ll work something out.”
Ruth went very still. “I wish it was that simple. I think these weeks apart will be good for us. They’ll give us time to mull over some decisions.”
“They will,” Bethanne agreed, although she hoped Ruth would be more successful at reaching a conclusion than she’d been.
Grant sat with Annie across the aisle, and they had their heads close together almost the entire flight. More than once Grant laughed out loud at something Annie said, and she basked in her father’s approval. There was no sign of the angry, rebellious girl Annie had been at sixteen.
Bethanne took the opportunity to knit, while Ruth watched a movie. When they landed in Seattle, Andrew was waiting in baggage claim. Bethanne’s spirits rose the instant she saw her son.
“Andrew,” she said, rushing forward. Her six-foot-tall son threw his arms around her and lifted her from the ground.
“Welcome home,” he said.
“It’s good to be back.” Bethanne felt as though she’d been away far longer than eighteen days. She wanted to unpack her suitcase the minute she stepped into the house and start a load of laundry. And then she’d walk from room to room in a small private ritual she had, something she did whenever she’d been traveling. She’d touch all the things she loved the most, the objects and pictures and mementos that made this house her home, the one place on earth where she truly belonged and that belonged to her.
“I thought your father phoned and told you he was giving me a ride.” Bethanne slipped her arm around Andrew’s waist.
“He did and I told him if he’d ordered a car, he should take care of Grandma and Annie. I said I’d drive you home. He didn’t mention it?”
“No.” But they’d barely spoken once they arrived at the Orlando airport. Bethanne had bought a Sudoku puzzle book and a couple of magazines after they’d checked their luggage and gone through security. She’d read the magazines while they waited at the gate, and on the plane he’d sat with Annie. As soon as they were airborne, Bethanne had taken out her knitting and finished her project.
Grant hugged his son, too, and although Andrew hugged him back, Bethanne noticed a decided coolness in her son’s attitude toward his father. Grant still had work to do if he hoped to repair that relationship.
Father and son collected the suitcases from the baggage carousel, while Annie sought out the driver Grant had arranged.
“Bethanne,” Ruth said, clasping Bethanne’s elbows. “I can’t thank you enough. This was the trip of a lifetime for me.”
“I’m grateful, too,” Grant told Bethanne. He hugged her before they parted. “Would you like to go to dinner Tuesday night?”
After all the meals out, she’d prefer to stay in but hated to disappoint Grant. “That would be nice.”
“We still have things to talk about.”
She nodded. “I’ll see you Tuesday, then.”
“Perfect. I’ll call first.”
As Bethanne and Andrew started toward the parking garage, Annie found them. “Mom, I had a great time. Thanks so much.”
“Thank your grandmother.”
“I will. I’ll see you Tuesday at the office, okay? Bye, Andrew. Talk soon.”
Bethanne had decided they should take Monday off to deal with chores and relax before going back to work. She nodded, readjusted her purse strap across her shoulder. “Bye, sweetie.”
Andrew was quiet on the way to the car. It wasn’t until they’d driven out of the parking garage that he spoke. “Are you okay, Mom?”
“Of course.”
He glanced at her. “Frankly, you don’t look that good.”
“Thanks a lot,” she said humorously. Leave it to her son to be that blunt. “I’m fine… Oh, Andrew, I’m afraid I’ve met someone I…really like.”
“Believe me, I’ve heard all about Max from Annie. Even Dad called me because he was worried. I’m glad. He could use a bit of competition.”
“Have I lost my mind?” she asked. “Just when it looks like everything’s coming together for your dad and me, I meet Max.” She valued her son’s opinion; Andrew knew her better than anyone.
“You haven’t lost your mind, Mom. You’re too down-to-earth for that.”
She immediately felt a sense of relief. “What seems to bother everyone is that I know so little about him. The crazy part is that it doesn’t seem to matter. I know what’s important—that he loved his wife and that he’s a good person, a really good person with a big heart.”
“Then that’s enough for me, too.”
“Thank you.” She meant that in the most profound way. She was grateful for his kindness and his faith in her.
“So, what about you and Dad?” Andrew asked next.
If Bethanne had an answer, she wouldn’t be in this emotional mess. “He was wonderful the whole time I spent with him. He realizes what he did was wrong. Now he wants to…start over again.”
“Is that possible, Mom?”
For years she’d been convinced a reconciliation was completely out of the question. Yet over the course of the past week, Grant had proven that he was willing to do whatever it took.
“Is it?” Andrew repeated.
Bethanne couldn’t be anything but honest. “I’m beginning to think it might be.”
“I’ll never be able to completely erase the pain he brought into our lives,” she admitted, “but I think I can let go of the bitterness.”
“What about your feelings for Max?”
She shrugged helplessly. “I wish I knew what to do. In some ways I wish I’d never met him.”
“But you did.”
“I know.” Max had seriously complicated her life. But before she could give that any further thought, Andrew turned onto her street.
This was the home she loved, the one she’d been determined to keep after Grant left. It represented far more than a house in a nice neighborhood. It was a symbol of her determination to rise above what Grant had done. She felt its welcome the minute Andrew pulled into the driveway.
She unlocked the front door and walked inside while her son dealt with her luggage. As he carried her bags upstairs to the master bedroom, she scooped the mail off the floor.
“You need me to do anything else?” he asked, walking back downstairs where Bethanne was sorting through her mail. Other than bills and a letter from an elderly aunt, there didn’t seem to be anything of importance.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you for everything.”
Andrew kissed her cheek, then headed for the front door.
“Can you and Courtney stop by on Thursday?” she called after him. “We should discuss the rehearsal dinner.”
“Sure,” he said, turning toward her. “What time?”
“How about six? I’ll put something in the Crock-Pot.”
“Courtney’s got a bridesmaid thing, so she’ll come later, but six works for me.” He paused.
“Mom, I know you’re troubled about this situation with Dad. I doubt I could give you any pearls of wisdom, but I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”
“I’d appreciate hearing your opinion.” She set the mail down and looked at her son.
“First, I want you to know that whatever you decide is fine by me. As far as I’m concerned, Dad doesn’t deserve a second chance, but that’s neither here nor there. All I really want to say is that you should go with your gut instinct. You did that when you started Parties and it’s never failed you yet. It won’t now.”
“But I don’t know what my instinct’s saying,” she muttered.
“Yes, you do. Just relax, sit back and listen to your inner voice.”
He made it sound easier than it was. She walked him to the door, hugged him one last time and watched him pull out of the driveway. As soon as the car disappeared around the corner, Bethanne decided unpacking and laundry could wait. She visited each of the downstairs rooms, performing her coming-home ritual, before going up to her bedroom. Halfway there, she stopped and closed her eyes. Andrew had advised her to listen to her inner self. She concentrated hard and made a genuine effort to hear whatever message her intuition was trying to send. She heard her pulse roaring in her ears, but the message, unfortunately, wasn’t clear.
Once in her room, she sat on the bed and, after debating for a couple of minutes, reached for the phone. Her hand closed around the receiver, and without further hesitation, she punched out the cell number that was engraved in her memory.
Thirty-One
Bethanne pressed the receiver to her ear and held her breath with each ring. She was nearly gasping by the time Max picked up.
“It’s Bethanne,” she said, struggling to talk. “Don’t say anything, please. This isn’t going to work. I’m so sorry.” She was on the verge of sobbing. “Grant is trying so hard and he wants us to reconcile and…and I owe him that. We were married all those years and until the affair he was a good husband, a good father. He’s sorry and I can’t be confusing myself with you…so I won’t be talking to you again.” Despite her effort to make this as quick as possible, to say what she had to say and be done with it, a sob escaped.
She brought her hand to her mouth and managed to stifle a second one.
“Are you finished?” Max asked.
“Yes…I don’t have anything more to say. I’m sorry, Max, so sorry. At any other time, I really think we could’ve made this work.”
“This is your final decision.”
She knew this break had to be definite. “Yes.”
“You don’t want to wait until after Andrew’s wedding?”
Drawing this out any longer would make it even more difficult. “No.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
If she confessed that she hadn’t stopped thinking about him all the while she was in Florida with Grant, she’d only confuse matters. She couldn’t let Max know that she had to get him out of her head if she intended to work things out with Grant.
“Bethanne?”
She couldn’t answer for the lump in her throat.
“Bethanne,” he said softly. “Are you crying?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
She laughed then, and the sound mingled with that of a sniff so it sounded almost as though someone was strangling her.
“If I could hug you right now, I would.”
She wished it was possible. She needed to feel his arms around her, needed the comfort of his embrace.