A Turn in the Road (11 page)

T
here wasn't much to recommend Wells, Nevada, as a tourist destination. The entire town consisted of two casinos, gas stations, a fast-food joint and a few watering holes. After the vehicle was repaired, with the promise of a replacement once they reached Las Vegas, Bethanne, Ruth and Annie found a room for the night.

“I think we should call Dad,” Annie said, sitting cross-legged on one of the two queen-size beds. “He should know where we are.”

“You can if you want,” Bethanne told her daughter. She propped her suitcase up on the luggage holder, unzipped it and took out what she needed for the night.

“He's not going to be too happy with us,” Annie murmured, looking thoughtful. She nibbled on her lower lip. “Maybe I should wait until we're in Vegas.”

Bethanne made a noncommittal sound.

“We might as well face the music,” Ruth said. “Get it over with.” She sat on the edge of the bed, obviously worn-out from their unexpected adventure. “Guaranteed, Grant will mention it to Robin and then we'll all get read the riot act.”

“The riot act, Grandma? What's that?”

“Oh, it's an expression based on an old English law. It just means Robin's going to be furious—and she's going to let us know it. I don't care. She can say what she wants. We're safe now and that's all that matters.” Ruth set her pajamas on the second bed and sank into the mattress. “I don't mind telling you, after a day like this, I'm completely exhausted.”

“Me, too,” Bethanne said. Both Ruth and Annie had questioned her repeatedly about the time she'd spent with Max. It wasn't that she didn't have an answer, because she did. Her thoughts, however, were ones she wanted to keep to herself. Although she was unlikely to see Max again, she couldn't help being curious about him. She'd wanted to ask about his wife, Kate, and what had compelled him to take to the road three years ago—and stay there.

Annie glanced from one to the other and frowned, disappointment flashing from her eyes. “You're going to bed? Now? Don't you want to go downstairs and gamble?”

“Tonight?” Ruth asked. “Not me.”

“Me, neither,” Bethanne concurred.

“You mean we're spending the night in a casino hotel and no one wants to play the slot machines?”

“Not tonight, sweetie,” Ruth said again, and yawned.

“I'll wait until Vegas,” Bethanne added. She was tired; besides, she'd already promised herself a forty-dollar limit, the money she'd earned in tips, and didn't want to start spending it yet. “But, Annie, if you want to check out the casino, go ahead.”

“Okay,” her daughter muttered, but she didn't sound enthusiastic. In fact, she stayed where she was, her expression perplexed and a bit glum.

Ruth took the first shower and Bethanne went next, brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas. When she came out of the bathroom, Annie was on the phone, talking to Grant.

With her cell against her ear, Annie paced the room, looking guilty as soon as she saw Bethanne.

“Mom's here now. Do you want to talk to her?”

Apparently, Grant did, because Annie thrust the phone at her. Bethanne hesitated, then reluctantly took it. She didn't owe Grant any explanations and she didn't plan on listening to his complaints, either.

“Hello, Grant.”

“It seems the three of you had quite an adventure,” he said. Although his comment was mild enough, Bethanne sensed his concern, mingled with irritation.

“We're fine.”

“Bethanne, don't you realize what a crazy risk you took?”

“Like I said, we're fine. Nothing happened.” She didn't want or need a lecture from him.

“You rode off with a biker? A
biker?
”

“His name is Max, and like I told your mother and Annie, he was a perfect gentleman.”

Grant was silent for a moment, as though weighing how best to continue. “Annie suggested they might be Wild Hogs. You remember the movie? Businessmen escaping the corporate world? She even said they went skinny-dipping, just like in the movie.”

“I…don't know about that. What I do know is that they came to our rescue and I'm grateful.”

Again he paused. “Promise me you won't do anything that foolish again.”

“Grant, I'm not a child.” She appreciated his concern but at the same time found his reaction condescending. She hadn't been in any danger; her instincts told her as much. Grant still didn't seem to grasp that she was an independent woman now. While she understood his feelings, she wasn't about to let him scold her.

“I know that, and it's your business if you want to take those kinds of risks. But don't drag Annie and my mother into it.”

The tightness of his words told Bethanne that he was struggling to hold on to his temper.

“I think we should change the subject,” she said, unwilling to get into an argument. He was right; she'd probably been far too trusting. Still, she didn't feel she'd had any choice.

“Fine,” he snapped. “We'll change the subject.” But he didn't introduce a different topic; neither did she.

“Would you like to speak to Annie again?” she asked a few seconds later.

“Please.”

Bethanne handed her daughter the cell.

Turning her back on both her mother and grandmother, Annie walked to the window. “All right, Daddy, I will. I know.” This was followed by a short silence. “I know. Okay. Goodbye. I'll check in tomorrow night, I promise.” She closed the cell, then turned around and stared at Bethanne.

“What?” Bethanne asked. She'd crawled under the sheets and opened her book. Ruth had turned off her light and was asleep, or pretending to be.

“You upset Dad,” Annie said. “All he cares about is our safety. There was no need to get huffy with him.”

Rather than argue, Bethanne shrugged. “Did I?”

“Yes, you did,” her daughter challenged. “Can't you see how hard he's trying?”

“I know he is,” Bethanne conceded. Annie had a point; she'd been short-tempered with Grant. In theory she'd moved past the divorce, past the pain, and yet every now and then, when she least expected it, those old resentments would rear up, taking her by surprise.

“He's doing everything he can to make up for what he did,” Annie said. “All he wants is for the two of you to get back together.”

“Annie—” She wasn't allowed to finish.

“Maybe you think I shouldn't have told him about you riding off with Max, but…I felt he has a right to know.”

“If you feel it's important to keep your father updated, then do so,” Bethanne told her daughter. She stopped herself from saying that she'd prefer it if Annie omitted any details pertaining to her.

“Daddy loves you,” Annie added. “You can't expect him to deny his feelings.”

Bethanne didn't doubt that Grant had loved her in the past, especially when they were first married. At the births of their children he'd wept tears of joy as he held her hand and thanked her for making him a father. She remembered the good years they'd shared, the career he'd built and the comfortable lifestyle he'd provided. However, those happy reminiscences were tainted by everything that had led up to and followed the divorce. Did he love her when he checked into a hotel room with Tiffany and then came home at night, all smiles? Did he love her the day he announced he wanted a divorce? He'd been heartless the morning he walked out the door. Bethanne had worked hard to forgive him, but she wasn't sure she could ever forget the devastating pain Grant had brought into her life and her children's. Or could she? If they were to reunite, that was the question she'd need to confront—and answer.

“I think I'll settle down for the night,” Bethanne said, closing her book.

“Mom?”

“Yes?” Bethanne rearranged her pillows and looked up at her daughter.

“Say something!”

“About what, sweetie?”

“The fact that Daddy still loves you.” Annie's eyes widened as she waited for Bethanne's response.

“I know he does, and I love him, too…. I always will.” That love had altered but the flame hadn't completely burned out. She didn't
want
to feel anything for Grant and yet she did. How could she not? They were married for twenty years. She'd given birth to his children. Those were facts she couldn't ignore or forget. But love, she'd discovered, had many sides, many angles, and some were sharper than others.

“Then there really is hope that you might reconcile?” Her daughter's face filled with anticipation.

This was the same question that had been rattling around her
head for the past few weeks—and the past few minutes. “I can't answer that yet.”

“But you're thinking about it?”

Bethanne smiled at her. “I'm giving it…consideration.”

“If you don't mind my saying so…” Ruth levered herself up on one elbow. She hadn't been sleeping, after all. “Grant's learned from his mistake. He's paid the price. We all do sooner or later,” she said, looking tired and sad. “For myself, I appreciate that he's man enough to admit it. Not many would, you realize?”

“You're right.”

Annie and Ruth exchanged warm smiles.

“I guess I'll wait until we get to Vegas to check out a casino,” Annie said, and swallowed a wide yawn. “We've had quite a day.”

“Indeed,” Ruth murmured.

Grinning to herself, Bethanne reached for her novel again, while Annie changed clothes and slid into bed beside her. Within minutes, her daughter's even breathing told Bethanne she was asleep. Ruth was, too. As soon as she finished her chapter, she closed the book and turned off her light. With her head nestled in the pillow, she shut her eyes, confident that sleep would soon overtake her despite the relentless glow from the casino's blinking sign. On, off. On, off…

To her surprise, she found her thoughts drifting to Max and what he'd told her about losing his wife. It'd been three years, he'd said. He'd grieved for three years. This man loved deeply. The possibility of that kind of unwavering love brought her solace, and she fell instantly asleep.

 

Annie woke when she heard her mother flick off the bedside lamp. The hotel room was bathed in muted shades of red and green from the casino's neon lights, which shone outside their window. They flashed off and on in Christmas colors and flickered through the slit between the drapes.

Rolling onto her side, Annie pulled the sheet over her shoulder
and tucked it securely around her. She wished now that she hadn't called her father. She'd tried Andrew, but he hadn't been home and apparently hadn't checked his text messages, either. Otherwise, he would've called her back.

Mainly Annie had wanted to tell someone about their adventure. In retrospect, the afternoon had been amusing. A great anecdote that the three of them would repeat for years. Until recently, she would've immediately called Vance and regaled him with it, too. Only, he was out of her life.

Her ego was gratified by the fact that he'd made several efforts to contact her, all of which she'd ignored. He was not to be trusted. Annie had never hidden anything from him and yet he'd— Well, it didn't serve any useful purpose to review the list of wrongs Vance had committed against her.

Because her brother was clearly preoccupied, and she wasn't talking to Vance, and her friends were all off in various places this summer, Annie had phoned her father. She thought her grandmother had been hilarious, taking the bikers' clothes. Even now, just thinking about it made her smile.

Except that her dad hadn't been nearly as amused. When he learned Bethanne had ridden into town with Max, he'd been upset. Justifiably so. She could see his point and, again, wished she'd squelched the urge to call.

Another mistake she'd made was giving her mother the phone. That hadn't gone nearly as well as she'd hoped. Before long, her parents were snapping at each other, and it was all Annie could do not to grab the phone out of her mother's hand.

More than anything, Annie wanted her parents back together. They belonged with each other; at least her father could see that now. Lots of men made mistakes. Women, too. Annie knew that from watching her friends' parents.

Men, in particular, supposedly went through this middle-age form of adolescence, where they behaved badly. According to what she'd heard, sooner or later they came to their senses. Some were smart enough to do whatever it took to get their families back.
The lucky ones did. They reconciled with their wives and kids and started fresh, with a new appreciation of what they'd lost.

Annie wanted her father to be one of the lucky ones. He had to be impressed by everything her mother had accomplished since the divorce. Annie would admit that even she was surprised by the success of the party business. She wasn't the only one, either.

Annie suspected that the attention her mother received had become an issue between Tiffany and her father. Grant didn't openly acknowledge that but Annie could read between the lines. The
lovely
Tiffany's career wasn't exactly going gangbusters these days, not that Annie was sorry to hear it. Frankly, she'd be just as glad never to hear the other woman's name again. Fortunately, the
lovely
Tiffany was out of the picture.

She'd given her own motivations some serious thought when Andrew had challenged her. He'd accused her of wanting to revert to a perfect past that hadn't been as perfect as she'd chosen to believe. Not true. This was more about instinct and love than any childhood fantasy.

Her parents needed each other, and Annie considered it her duty as their daughter to encourage their reconciliation. Now all she had to do was pave the way for her mother and father to meet in the middle and resolve this.

Come to think of it, she might offer her father a suggestion or two. Flowers for when they arrived in Vegas might help her mother forget their little argument that evening.