A Turn in the Road (14 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: A Turn in the Road
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“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.”

Despite her effort not to, Bethanne laughed. She wasn't going to argue with Ruth, wasn't even going to point out that this was
her
business. “I won't be late,” she said as she breezed out of the room. One day was all Max had asked of her and she couldn't refuse him—or herself.

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.

Neither seemed to know what to say. After a moment, Max touched her face. “You taste nice,” he whispered, sounding unlike himself.

She lowered her lashes. “So do you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her again as though testing his own observation. She clung to him. His kiss was urgent, needy, and once again desire sparked between them, scorching Bethanne's senses. She turned her head away and buried her face in his shoulder, trying to understand what was happening to them. Max ran his fingers through her hair and continued kissing the side of her face.

Anywhere else Bethanne would have been embarrassed. Thankfully, no one here seemed to notice or care.

They danced and kissed and became so involved with each other that it was after two in the morning before she was aware of the time. Resting her forehead against his, Bethanne sighed. “I have to go.”

His hold on her briefly tightened. “Okay.”

“Don't think that's what I want,” she said. “I'd like nothing better than to spend the rest of my time in Vegas with you.”

“But you can't.”

“No, we're leaving for the Grand Canyon tomorrow morning.”

“It's spectacular. You'll love it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I'm so glad you called.”

“I am, too. Can I call you again?”

She didn't know how to respond.

“Tell you what,” Max said. “You call me. You should have my cell number in your phone index. If I don't hear from you…let's say by August first, after your son's wedding, then I'll know you've decided to go back to Grant.”

She nodded.

Max escorted her to the hotel and kissed her one last time. He was wrong about one thing, she thought. What happened in Vegas
wouldn't
stay here. It would always be with her.

Fourteen

B
y the time Ruth, Annie and Bethanne left Las Vegas, it was almost noon. They'd slept in until after ten, eaten a late breakfast, packed up the car and were now on their way. This was the new rental and once again they'd opted to do without a navigational device. They had their map and an atlas; that should be enough.

No one seemed to be talking much, and the tension inside the car remained high as Bethanne headed toward Henderson, Nevada, and then over Hoover Dam south on Highway 93. It went without saying that Annie and Ruth were upset with her for staying out so late with Max, but neither commented. Just as well. Her relationship with Max was none of their business, regardless of what they might think. Soon the map directed them toward the cutoff for Grand Canyon National Park.

Finally, Annie broke the ice. “Will you be seeing Max again?” she asked from the backseat. Although the question was thrown out casually, Bethanne could see that both her daughter and Ruth were keenly interested in her answer.

Would she see him again? That depended on what she decided about Grant—a decision that was hers alone. She'd told Max she'd
contact him after Andrew's wedding. The beginning of August, he'd suggested, but that seemed so long to wait. Even after she'd slipped into bed beside Annie, all Bethanne could think about was the kisses she'd shared with Max. No man had affected her the way he did, not since she was in college and first met Grant.

“Mom?” Annie prompted.

“I…I don't know,” she said. “Will you be seeing Jason again?”

“Probably not,” Annie admitted reluctantly, “but he has my cell number.”

Max had hers, too, but he wouldn't use it, wouldn't phone until she'd called him. That was how they'd left it.

“We're in a different time zone,” Ruth announced, changing the subject as they crossed the state line. “Arizona isn't on daylight savings.”

Bethanne knew that her mother-in-law had always been uncomfortable with conflict and tried to avoid it whenever possible. Bethanne had been much the same for most of her married life. But that had gradually changed; she'd reinvented herself as a businesswoman, which had required her to negotiate, to compete and to promote her services. A woman who lacked confidence couldn't do those things.

The tension in the car eased, and the silence became companionable. Bethanne turned on the radio, filling the car with ABBA and the Fifth Dimension. It wasn't long before Ruth and Bethanne were singing along and Annie's voice harmonized with theirs.

“That's just plain good music,” her daughter said, apparently surprised that she'd be enjoying the same songs as her mother and grandmother.

They drove out of range and lost that station after half an hour or so. Bethanne snapped off the radio, and they lapsed back into silence.

“How are the wedding gloves progressing?” Ruth asked after another lengthy period when no one seemed inclined to talk.

“When has Mom had time to knit?” Annie joked. “Frankly, I never imagined I'd see my mother on a Harley.”

Her daughter didn't know her nearly as well as she thought, but Bethanne didn't say anything. Annie's vision of her was a contradictory one—including both the independent businesswoman of today and the complacent wife of years past.

“This is all too weird for me,” Annie was saying. “My mom and Mad Max? It's just…odd, you know.”

“Odd?”

“Don't get me wrong, Mom. I realize this is your life and everything, but a guy on a bike? Really? My
mother?

“I don't find it odd at all,” Bethanne muttered. But it was a moot point, since she likely wouldn't see Max again, although the prospect saddened her.

Ruth broke into a half smile.

“That reminds me of my family's opinion of Royce and me.”

“Who's Royce?” Annie immediately asked.

“I think he's another friend your grandmother hopes to see in Florida.”

“Oh-h-h,” Annie said, dragging out the word in a meaningful way.

Bethanne could only assume her mother-in-law
wanted
to discuss this man—or else why bring him up?—but she had to grin at Ruth's blush.

“So, tell us about Royce,” Bethanne said, taking advantage of the change in subject so she wouldn't have to answer questions about Max. She wasn't so different from Ruth, after all, trying to maintain the peace and avoid discord. Perhaps she hadn't changed as much as she thought….

“Oh…” Ruth stared down at her hands. “As you've already guessed, we dated during our senior year. We broke up after I went to college and he became a marine.”

“So he's attending the reunion, too?”

“Yes.”

“And you're hoping to reconnect with him?” Bethanne asked.

Ruth nodded. “We had a…nasty falling-out, so I'm a bit apprehensive.”

“Oh, Grandma, he's probably just as excited about getting together as you are.”

“Do you really think so?”

Ruth's question was so sincere and charming that Bethanne wished she could lean over and hug her.

“So it's been years and years since you last saw him?” Annie asked.

“Oh, yes…so many that I can hardly believe it. I heard he lost his wife a few years back, and Richard's gone, and, well, I hoped… Oh, I don't know, other than that this would give me the opportunity to resolve things between us. We parted on such bitter terms.”

“Does he realize you're coming to the reunion?”

“I…I don't know.”

“Are you going to fall in love all over again and marry him, Grandma?” Annie teased.

“Annie,” Bethanne chastised. “Come on. Don't put your grandmother on the spot like that.”

Ruth twisted around to look at Annie. “Honey, remember we haven't seen each other in over fifty years and—and there's a lot we have to say.”

“Can't you say it on the phone?” Annie asked. “You should call him.”

“Call him? When?”

“Now. Or before you show up at the reunion, anyway.”

“I don't think I can do it,” Ruth murmured, pressing her palms against her cheeks. “What I need to tell him—well, it's the sort of thing I'd rather do face-to-face.”

“Oh,” Annie said as though she understood. “You loved him, right?”

“Yes. Very much. And then I met your grandfather and…everything changed.”

“Do you still love Royce?”

“How could I possibly know? I was eighteen when we dated. He came from a poor family, and my father never really approved of our relationship. In retrospect, I know Daddy only wanted the best for me. He liked Richard and, well, it was such a long time ago….”

Ruth was so quiet all of a sudden that Bethanne glanced in her direction, shocked to see tears making wet tracks down her cheeks.

“Ruth,” she whispered. “What is it?”

Shaking her head, Ruth buried her face in her hands and started to weep in earnest.

“Grandma?” Annie leaned forward, touching her grandmother's shoulder.

“What is it, Ruth?” Bethanne asked softly. Whatever it was must have to do with Royce.

“You don't understand,” Ruth managed between sobs.

“We will if you explain it to us,” Annie said in a gentle voice.

Ruth shook her head again. “I don't know if I can face Royce after what I did to him.” Ruth's hands trembled and she took a gasping breath. “I hurt him deeply.”

“Ruth, you were young. I'm sure he's gotten over it.”

Ruth refused to make eye contact. “He might have, but I'm not sure I ever can.”

Annie handed Ruth a tissue, which she clenched as if it were a lifeline.

“We promised to love each other and be true…” she choked out. “That's what we called it back then—being true.” She closed her eyes.

“And…you weren't?” Bethanne probed.

Ruth looked down at her purse, winding the strap around her hand. “I went to a party with friends soon after I got to college. I'd never drunk anything stronger than beer. Someone brought vodka and mixed it with orange juice and gave me a glass. I remember how good it tasted and I had more of them…and the next thing I knew, I was necking with this boy and I didn't even know
his name.” She tried to stem the tears, swiping at them with the crumpled tissue. “I told him I needed to get back to my dorm and he offered to walk me there. He seemed friendly and nice, and when we arrived, I let him kiss me again.”

“Ruth, you were on your own for the first time,” Bethanne said. She found it painful that after all the years, her mother-in-law still couldn't forgive herself for a youthful indiscretion.

“Grandma, so what if you let a boy kiss you?” Annie said. She rubbed her grandmother's shoulder with soothing strokes.

Ruth continued in a ragged voice. “I told him I already had a boyfriend and…and he said that was fine.”

“Did you see him again?” Annie asked.

“I couldn't help it. We were in the same history class. We talked after the lecture a couple of times and went for a Coke. He was always nice to me. I wouldn't let him kiss me again and he respected that. I wrote Royce every single day but I never told him about Richard.”

“Richard?” Bethanne repeated, stunned. That was Grant's father.

“Yes. Then one night we attended another party. He and I went together. I thought I'd be all right because I was with Richard, but someone gave me a spiked drink and we…we—” She paused and once more hid her face in her hands. “We made love in the backseat of his car and a few weeks later I realized I was pregnant.”

“Oh, Ruth.” Bethanne looked away from the road long enough to reassure her mother-in-law that she was the last person who'd think badly of her. How strange that they should be having this conversation, which was probably the most serious and honest of their entire relationship, while driving down the freeway.

“Richard took the news like a gentleman…. He said he loved me and would marry me. But we hardly knew each other and I hadn't even told Royce I'd met anyone else…and then I had to tell him I was marrying another man and that I was pregnant—and all of this happened while he was still in basic training!”

“Ruth, my poor Ruth…”

“Oh, Grandma, how awful for you.”

“I broke his heart,” Ruth said with finality. She gazed at Bethanne, her tears drying as she resumed her story. “He said if I could be unfaithful so soon after leaving home, I wasn't the person he thought I was. He said he was happy to be rid of me.”

Again Bethanne looked away from the road. “I'm sure he didn't mean that. He was speaking from his pain.”

Ruth went on as if she hadn't heard. “Richard was a good husband. We were both determined to make the best of the marriage, and we did, but through the years…” She hesitated. “I often wondered what might've happened if I'd stayed home that night instead of going to the party. I wonder if Royce and I would eventually have married.”

“It's only natural to wonder,” Bethanne said.

“You were pregnant with Dad when you married Grandpa?” Annie said. “Wow. I never added up the dates before.”

“Annie.”

“Grandma.” Annie ignored Bethanne. “I meant what I said—I bet Royce is just as anxious to see you again. You're probably the reason he's attending this reunion.”

“I hope so, but I can't be sure.”

“You should call him and at least let him know you'll be there.”

“I can't,” she said adamantly.

“Why not?”

“For one thing, I wouldn't know what to say. Besides,” she said as though this was a more convincing excuse, “I don't have his number.”

“That's easy.” Annie pulled out her cell phone. “Tell me his full name and I'll get it for you.”

Frowning, Ruth turned to Bethanne, her face creased with doubt and indecision. “Do
you
think contacting Royce before I arrive is a good idea?”

“I don't think it would hurt,” Bethanne said. “If you chatted
briefly, then your mind would be at rest. You'd know what to expect.”

Ruth's shoulders sagged. “Maybe later. Okay?”

“Of course it's okay,” Bethanne assured her.

“You do what you feel is best,” Annie echoed. “But I'll look up his number for you, anyway.”

“Okay,” Ruth said. “I'd like to have it…in case I do decide to call. In case I can figure out what to say,” she added under her breath.

 

It was afternoon when they entered the national park. The sights were as spectacular as Max had promised. They walked across the Grand Canyon Skywalk and marveled at the twisting, curving Colorado River far below.

Later, Ruth was in the gift shop and Annie was speaking to one of the park rangers, a young woman who didn't look much older than her daughter, when Bethanne's cell phone rang.

Digging in her purse, she located it just before it went to voice mail.

“Hello.”

“Bethanne, where are you?”

She groaned inwardly. “Hello, Grant.” She almost wished she hadn't answered—or that she'd taken the time to check call display. “We're at the Grand Canyon.”

“Sounds like you got a late start.”

“We did, but we drove straight here. Your mother's eager to get to Florida.”

The words were barely past her lips when Grant asked, “What's this about you taking off with that biker?”

Apparently, Annie had told Grant, which Bethanne didn't appreciate. “Is that what Annie said?”

“Well, some variation of it. I'm sure she's exaggerating.”

“I'm sure,” Bethanne echoed, unwilling to discuss Max with her ex-husband.

“So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You took off with this biker and according to our daughter you spent the night with him.”

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