A Turn in the Road (17 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: A Turn in the Road
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It rang again as she held her breath. Again.

Then Royce answered. “Hello.”

Despite all the years since they'd spoken, she recognized his voice.

She couldn't speak.

“Hello?” he repeated.

“Royce?” Somehow she managed to whisper his name.

“Yes? Who is this?”

His own voice fell, and Ruth was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

“It's Ruth.” The silence was terrible. “I heard you planned to attend the class reunion,” she said.

“Yes.”

“I…I thought it was only fair that you know I'll be there, too. Actually, my daughter-in-law and granddaughter felt I should warn you.” At first, she couldn't utter a word, and now she couldn't seem to shut up. “We're driving across the country…. We're in Branson and we— Oh, none of that's important.”

The silence on his end of the line returned and Ruth was convinced she'd made a mistake.

“Would you rather I didn't attend the reunion?” he asked after another long moment.

“Oh, no…I mean, yes. I want you there. I'd really hoped we'd have a chance to talk first, though…if you agree.”

More silence. Ruth couldn't stand the tension.

Eventually, he spoke. “I think that would be a good idea. Call me when you get into town, okay?”

“Yes…I'll do that.” Her hand squeezed the phone so hard, she thought her fingers might leave indentations.

“Ruth?”

“Yes?”

“I'm glad you called.”

The tension between her shoulders eased. “I am, too.”

She replaced the receiver, but her hand lingered on it for several minutes as she considered their short conversation. Already she felt better. Setting the phone back on the nightstand, she nearly collapsed against the pillows.

 

Annie's sour mood improved fast, which was due, no doubt, to some old-fashioned retail therapy. Bethanne made her purchases
in record time. The two of them returned to the hotel room, their arms loaded with packages.

Ruth talked to Annie about their shopping excursion as Bethanne hurriedly changed into her new outfit, complete with red cowboy boots. If her friend Anne Marie Roche, the local bookstore owner, could own a pair, then she could, too.

“How do I look?” she asked her mother-in-law, twirling around and modeling her new clothes.

Ruth frowned. “Like Dale Evans.”

“Dale who?” Annie asked.

“Never mind.” Ruth got her purse. “Come on, Annie, or we'll be late.”

“Late? For what?”

“The show. I told you I wanted both of you to see it, and your mother obviously isn't coming with me. I've got three tickets, for heaven's sake. I have no intention of going alone.” She frowned. “Maybe I can scalp one of them.”

“Grandma!” Annie rolled her eyes. “Until yesterday I didn't even know who this Andy person was.”

Bethanne didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. She was out the door before either of them had time to protest. Entering the lobby, she looked around, disappointed to see that Max hadn't arrived yet. She found a vacant wingback chair by the fireplace, where she sat and waited—but not for long. A few minutes later, the elevator doors slid open and Max and Rooster stepped out.

Max looked even better than she remembered. For a moment all Bethanne could do was stare. He didn't immediately see her, but when he did, a slow smile crossed his face.

“Hi,” she said, standing and walking toward him.

“Hi.” He met her halfway.

Bethanne held out her hands to him, and Max took her fingers in his.

“I didn't ride all this way to hold hands,” he said. “I'm desperate for one of those hugs of yours.”

She was equally desperate to give him one, knowing the kisses would come later. As they embraced, she closed her eyes. His arms felt so good around her, so right.

“Twenty hours on the bike and all he wants is a hug?” Rooster laughed. “There's definitely something wrong.”

“Twenty hours?” Bethanne asked, breaking away to study him.

“We took off the minute he got your message,” Rooster elaborated.

“Where were you?”

“Doesn't matter. I'm here now,” Max said, glaring at his friend.

“Vegas,” Rooster supplied.

“Oh, Max.” She held her palms against his face, wanting more than anything to kiss him. She couldn't. Not here in the hotel lobby, but soon. Very soon.

Seventeen

“D
addy,” Annie said the minute she was in her assigned seat at the Moon River Theater. She didn't appreciate having to attend this show with her grandmother, especially since her mom got out of it. Fortunately, that meant the seat beside her wasn't occupied. “It's Annie,” she said, leaning into the empty seat and doing her best to keep her voice down.

“Hi, sweetheart. Did you get to Branson okay?”

“We made it fine.”

“What's that noise?”

Annie wouldn't have believed old people could make such a racket. The noise level was as high as a rock concert. Well, maybe not
quite
as high, but it was up there. She pressed one finger to her other ear.

“I'm sitting with Grandma, waiting for Andy Williams to come onstage, but I thought I should call you right away.”

“Grandma dragged you with her to see Andy Williams?” He sounded far too amused, in her opinion.

“Don't go there, Dad. Grandma also got tickets for the Twelve Irish Tenors, and she expects me to go to that one, too.” She leaned
even farther into the empty seat so Grandma Hamlin wouldn't hear. This was ridiculous. If she wanted to listen to tenors, she'd attend church services more often.

Her father laughed outright.

“Dad, this isn't funny!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

He wasn't nearly as apologetic as he should be.

“I'm glad you made it safely to Branson,” he said. “Thanks for the updates on your travels. Otherwise, I'd be worried about the three of you on the road.”

“That's not why I'm calling,” Annie said. She didn't like being a tattletale, but someone had to tell him what was happening with her mother and Max.

“What's wrong?” Any amusement left his voice.

“It's Mom.”

Her father went completely silent.

“Did you hear me, Dad?”

“Is she talking to Max again?”

“It's worse than that. He's here.”

“In Branson?”

Although he couldn't see her, Annie nodded. “She sent him a text message sometime yesterday. I don't know when.” On second thought, maybe she did. “Actually, I think it was while we were at a Dairy Queen in Texas. She started acting all weird.”

“Do you have any idea what she said to Max?”

“Just that she'd be in Branson for the next two days.”

“How do you know?”

“I, uh, read it. And I read his reply. She got really mad at me. Max said he'd meet her here.” She felt even more like a tattletale but her father needed to know.

“Annie,” her father said, his voice solemn. “I appreciate you telling me this. However—and this is important—you have no right to be reading her private messages.”

“I know,” she mumbled. “But Mom was there in the room. And
she didn't do anything to stop me. Maybe she
wanted
me to see it,” she said mutinously.

“It doesn't matter. Don't do that again.”

“Okay, okay.”

“So—Max is in Branson?”

“Yup.”

“Has your mother seen him yet?”

Her father obviously didn't understand the seriousness of the situation. “Daddy, she's with him right this minute. Why else do you think I'm the one with Grandma? Mom was supposed to go, too, but she and Max went off together and Grandma and I are at this…event. I don't think there's anyone under thirty except for me.” In Annie's opinion, this was above and beyond her duty as a granddaughter.

“Where did they go?” her father asked.

It took Annie a moment to catch up with the conversation and realize he was asking about her mother and Max. “I don't know.”

Her father went quiet again.

“That's not all, either.” Annie felt a bit childish, but she couldn't stop herself.

Grant sighed. “Just don't tell me she's run off and married him.”

“No, she'd never do that.”

“Good.”

“Mom and I went shopping, and she got a whole new outfit and red cowboy boots.”

“Red?”

“Yes, Anne Marie Roche has a pair. She's the lady who owns the bookstore on Blossom Street, remember?”

“What have red boots got to do with anything?” He seemed confused.

“Nothing, I suppose, except that Mom always admired Anne Marie's, and when she saw a red pair she decided to get them for herself.”

“It sounds like your mother's become a…free spirit.”

“Oh, it's worse than that. All she thinks about is this biker. Yesterday morning at breakfast she—” Annie wished she hadn't said anything now. “Never mind. The thing is, Dad, Mom isn't acting like herself. Grandma and I don't know what to do.”

“I love your mother,” Grant said after a long pause.

“I know you do, and I'm afraid she's actually falling for this…this biker. As far as I can tell, he doesn't have a job. I can't believe it…I really can't. My mother and a
biker?
” Saying the words aloud made it seem even more unlikely. “Maybe she
is
falling in love.” Her father sounded sad, but not as disturbed as Annie had thought he'd be.

“Then we need to
do
something.” Annie hoped her father had an idea because she didn't. Acting upset and giving her mother the silent treatment hadn't kept Bethanne away from Max. In fact, it seemed the harder Annie tried, the less effective her methods. Grandma disapproved, too, and that hadn't influenced her, either. She seemed bent on being with Max. Bent on throwing away the past and destroying the future. It wasn't that Annie didn't understand that sometimes divorce was the best option, but this one should never have happened. Her parents belonged together. Andrew called her arrogant for saying that; however, Annie didn't care. She was absolutely
convinced
she was right.

“Annie, listen to me, and when we finish speaking, let me talk to your grandmother.”

“Okay, I'm listening.” Annie pressed her cell even harder against her ear and held her finger against the other ear. She closed her eyes because that helped her concentrate.

“I hurt Bethanne badly. I betrayed her and the vows of our marriage. I realize now what a huge mistake I made. I'm praying it's not too late and that there's something left of our relationship to salvage.”

“I want that, too, Daddy, more than anything.”

“I know you do.”

“So does Grandma.” She didn't mention Andrew. Her brother
wasn't willing to forgive and forget as easily as the rest of them. Annie got frustrated with him but Andrew had apparently divested himself of all feelings for their father. Their relationship was as minimal as he could make it. Well, her brother had an excuse. He had other things on his mind, like getting married. Still, she hoped his attitude would change with time.

Annie knew Andrew and their mom were close, the same way she was with their dad. Her brother was quick to defend their mother and blame their father. But Dad recognized that he'd been in the wrong, and in her opinion Andrew should take that into consideration.

“I gather my mother isn't a fan of Max's, either,” her father continued.

“Dad, if you met him you'd wonder what Mom ever saw in him. He's…he looks just like a stereotypical biker.” Okay, maybe he was attractive for an older guy, but muscles and lean good looks weren't everything.

“I understand your mother. We weren't married all those years without me knowing her….”

Annie couldn't figure out why her father wasn't more upset. “It sounds like you're happy Mom's chasing after him.” That was a slight exaggeration. But she'd expected him to react more strongly to this latest update.

“I started to tell you, Annie, I hurt your mother.”

“I know and she knows that, too, better than anyone. But it's different now. You're back and the
lovely
Tiffany is out of your life.”

“Yes, thank God, but this isn't about Tiffany or me. It's about your mother and Max.”

“You have a plan.” Annie should've guessed her father wouldn't stand idly by and let some other man step into the place he belonged. “You're flying into Branson, aren't you?”

“No.”

“No?” Annie echoed. “What do you mean?”

“Your mother's well aware of how I feel. If I could go back six years, trust me, I would.”

“Oh, Daddy.” Annie, too, would give anything to turn back time.

“Your mother and you and Andrew are my whole world and I was stupid enough to leave you. I've paid the price for being such an idiot, but I might still lose your mother.”

“I want you and Mom to get back together,” Annie said fervently.

“The thing is, Annie, it might be too late.” His voice was bleak, as if he'd already given up. “If that's the case, then all I can do is accept it.”


Accept
it?”

“I don't have any choice but to abide by your mother's wishes. I'll always love her, always. Even when I was married to Tiffany I loved your mother. I might not have shown my love the way I should have, but my feelings for her never went away. Tiffany sensed that, I think. My family was an issue between us from the beginning, which is why she tried so hard to keep us apart.”

Annie felt her throat thicken. She didn't like to remember how it had been when her father left them. Those were dark days for all of them. Her brother was the one who'd held the three of them together those first few weeks. Meeting Courtney had helped him, and that was good, but at the time she'd had no one. Her mother was a basket case and Annie had floundered badly.

“Mom said that when I get upset about her seeing Max, that only makes him more appealing.”

“She's right,” her father agreed. “Don't you remember that plaque she has up in the kitchen?”

“The plaque,” she repeated. “The one about setting a bird free?” That ceramic wall hanging had been in the kitchen for years, and while she'd seen it practically every day of her life, she didn't remember the exact words. What it meant was that if someone was meant to return they would of their own accord.

“Annie, listen. You and I need to set your mother free. Let her
enjoy her time with Max. Let's both give her that. I'll meet you in Florida in a few days and we'll see how things go. Until then, leave your mother alone. Tell your grandmother to do the same. Okay?”

“But, Dad—”

“I love your mother enough to want her happiness. If she finds that with Max, then all I can do is step aside.”

Annie wanted to argue—but she couldn't. Her father was wise. “You're right,” she said. Bethanne would choose for herself; that was her privilege and her responsibility. Annie just hoped she made the choice they wanted her to make.

“Now let me talk to your grandmother.”

“Okay.” Annie straightened and tapped her grandmother on the arm. “Grandma, it's my dad. He wants to talk to you.”

Ruth looked concerned. “Did you tell him about you know who?” she asked in a loud whisper.

Annie nodded. “He's cool with it.”

Her grandmother widened her eyes as she took the cell. “Hello,” she said.

Annie listened hard but she could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation. Apparently, her father said the same thing to Ruth that he'd said to Annie, because her grandmother shook her head as if she had trouble accepting his advice.

After a few minutes she handed the phone back to Annie. “He wants us to let your mother have her fun.”

“I know.”

“I don't think this is a smart decision.”

Annie was inclined to abide by her father's judgment. “He says he'll be in Florida next week and we should be patient.”

“He loves your mother.”

Annie nodded. Until then, she'd never realized how much.

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