A Turn in the Road (23 page)

Annie didn't say anything right away. “I'm glad Max isn't here,” she mumbled.

“I know.” Bethanne tried not to sound defensive.

“I can see how much you like him.”

“I do.” Bethanne understood her daughter's concerns. “You're afraid Max might ruin any chance of a reconciliation between your father and me. Look, Annie, I know how much you want me to get back with your father. But what you need to remember is that nothing's the same as it was six years ago. Our family will never return to the way it used to be. You and Andrew are adults now. I'd never attempt to convince either of you to enter a relationship you didn't feel was right. I expect the same courtesy and respect.”

Her daughter blinked and then nodded.

“We understand each other?”

Annie nodded again. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Give Dad a chance. Just give my dad a chance.”

“M
om,” Annie whispered. She hadn't slept. The glowing digital alarm by her side told her it was a little after three. There was a strip of light under the door from the hallway, but except for that and the clock, the room was dark. Grandma Hamlin snored softly in the other bed.

“Hmm?” her mother returned groggily.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now,” Bethanne said, and rolled onto her back.

Annie stared at the ceiling. “Are you mad at me?”

Her mother sat up, leaning against the pillows, and studied Annie. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because of what I said about Max,” she whispered. “The thing is, I think I might really like him if it wasn't for Dad.” Annie had lain awake, examining her feelings, and realized that Max and Rooster were good guys, kind and helpful. She had no idea what would've happened at the lake if they hadn't come by when they did.

“You really care about him, don't you?” Annie sighed. Her father could have put an end to this romance and he hadn't. More
than that, he'd actually insisted they leave Bethanne alone to make her own decision. Annie admired his attitude, which she viewed as brave and selfless, but she wanted to shout at him to
do
something and fast. He wouldn't listen, though. Both her parents were such complicated people.

“I do care about Max.” Her mother's voice was tender.

“It's kind of weird watching my mother fall in love with someone other than my father.”

“I can't say I'm in love with him, Annie. It's too soon for that. I'm…infatuated with Max, but we haven't faced any real difficulties yet. I think it would be easy to fall in love with him one day. I like Max a lot, and I hope things work out so we can be together, but they might not.”

“But you love Dad, too, right?” She felt as if the dream she held of seeing her parents reconcile was crumbling at her feet.

“I do care a great deal for your father. I can't dismiss our years together because of an error in judgment he made.” Her mother lay down again. “However, I doubt that you woke me up to chat about your father and me. What's up, sweetie?”

Annie sighed, unsure where to start. “I heard from Vance again.” She made it sound like he'd only emailed her a couple of times. The fact was, Vance had contacted her nearly every day since he'd left for Europe with Matt and Jessie. She hadn't answered most of his emails.

“You mentioned that he's homesick and wants to come back to Seattle.”

“He can't. His ticket home isn't good until next year. When he tried to change it, the airlines wanted to charge him for a whole new ticket. He doesn't have that kind of money and he can't ask his parents. He says the airline's being unreasonable and I agree with him.”

“He must have known that when he booked his flights.”

“But he already paid for his return ticket!”

“He's had a pretty quick change of heart, hasn't he?” Bethanne commented. “He's only been in Europe a couple of weeks.”

“Yes…”

“What aren't you telling me, Annie?”

That was the problem with her mother, Annie thought. She read between the lines far too easily.

“Okay.” She closed her eyes tightly. “Vance wants me to meet him in France at the end of the month.” There, she'd said it, and held her breath while she waited for her mother's reaction. “What do
you
think about that?”

Annie should've known. Her mother always did this. She turned everything into a question. “I'm not sure,” she admitted. “That's why I wanted to talk to you. I need advice.”

“All right,” her mother said. “Obviously, this is bothering you. Otherwise, you'd be fast asleep.”

“And so would you,” Annie added, smiling.

“True.”

Her mother didn't sound upset, though, and that was reassuring.

“First, how do you feel about Vance?”

“Now or before we left?”

“Now.”

“Well…I miss him. Before he decided to go to Europe, we talked practically every day. We were almost always together, which is one reason I was so upset when I found out he was going to Europe with Matt and Jessie.”

“He kept it a secret.”

“He wanted to tell me, or so he said, but Matt told him not to.”

“And he listened to his friend instead of doing what he knew was right.”

“Yeah.”

“Did he say why he wants you to meet him in France?”

Annie folded her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling some more. “He said he's tired of being a third wheel. Matt and Jessie are having all these arguments and he's afraid he doesn't have enough money to last a year and—”

“In other words, nothing is turning out the way he thought it would,” her mother finished for her. “And that's why he invited you to fly over and join him?”

Just the way her mother asked told Annie she thought it was a pretty selfish reason. “That's what he said, but you have to remember Vance isn't exactly a great communicator.”

Annie wanted to believe he was lost and lonely without her and that he regretted everything. He hadn't said so, but she knew that was what he really meant. Or what she
hoped
he meant…

“Well, you'll have to decide if he's sincere,” her mother whispered. “If he's asking because he wants to be with
you
or he just doesn't want to be alone.”

Annie lowered her voice, too, not wanting to wake her grandmother. “He does want to be with me!”

“That's not what he said, though, is it?”

“Well, no, but it's what he
meant
.”

Her mother was silent for several minutes. “It sounds to me like you want to be with Vance, too.”

That was true, although Annie hated admitting it. “He really hurt me, Mom.”

“I know, honey.”

“I think he needs to work harder for me to put this behind us, don't you?”

“Are you saying you don't think he's suffered enough?”

Annie snickered in the dark. “You're funny, Mom.”

“You
do
want him to suffer, though, right?”

“Well, he should. He went behind my back and planned this whole trip without telling me anything. I'm supposed to be his girlfriend—wouldn't you assume he'd want me to know?
I
shared everything with
him
. I thought I wanted to marry him and I believed he felt the same about me.”

“I know.”

“Not only does he hit me with the news that he's going to Europe with his two friends, but then he insults my intelligence by asking me to drive him to the airport.”

“That does take gall,” her mother agreed.

“Wouldn't
you
want him to suffer?”

“I'm afraid I would.”

Annie knew she could count on her mother to be on her side.

“But when is it enough? It's hard to know when I should forgive and forget.”

“True,” her mother murmured.

“I can forgive him…in time.”

“In time,” her mother echoed. “Eventually, you'll be able to look past his behavior—if you choose to. Men can be completely oblivious to what matters most. When you think about it, Vance must've known how upset you'd be, and yet he wanted you to send him off with hugs and kisses.”

Annie felt better talking this over with her mother. Everything was starting to seem a little clearer. “I heard from Jason, too. He called me the day I spent alone in Branson. We've kept in touch since Vegas.”

“So, what do you think?”

“Well, to be honest, it felt good to have someone interested in me after Vance was such a jerk.”

“Do you like Jason?”

Annie shrugged. “He's okay.”

“That's not a glowing endorsement.”

“I know. I tried to figure out why I feel this way. He's really nice and fun and we had a great time together. Another girl would be over the moon about meeting someone like him. Then I realized what's wrong. Jason didn't act like Vance. I'm so used to being with Vance that it felt sort of…wrong to be with someone else.”

Her mother shifted onto her side. “I remember when Paul— Tiffany's ex—and I went to dinner after your father moved out.”

“Yeah?” Annie didn't like to remember that. Her father and the
lovely
Tiffany had hurt and betrayed two people. Well, four, including her and Andrew.

“I hadn't been out with another man for so many years that I
started to shake. I didn't know how to act or what to say, and when I did find my tongue, I was convinced I sounded like a nutcase.”

This wasn't a fair comparison to her situation with Jason. Her mother had been close to a nervous collapse the first few weeks after Annie's father moved out. Those days had been dreadful for all of them.

Annie had been furious with both her parents, but especially Bethanne. If her father fell in love with another woman, it had to be her mother's fault. Bethanne was boring, Annie decided. Her mother's whole world revolved around the house and the family and those dinner parties she put on for her father's business associates. She'd let herself go, too. Her hair was too long and she didn't shop for herself often enough.

In the weeks that followed, Annie had done her utmost to bring her father home. She'd cried and pleaded and told him she'd make sure Bethanne did whatever was necessary to make him happy. In retrospect, Annie was embarrassed by her behavior. She understood now that nothing she'd said had put a dent in his determination.

What hurt the most was discovering that he didn't even want to talk to her anymore, although they'd always been so close. Annie was convinced it was all
lovely
Tiffany's fault.

After she'd finished blaming her mother, Annie had turned her anger on the new woman in her father's life. The divorce was completely her fault, and if Annie could show her dad the truth about Tiffany, Grant would change his mind and come back to the family.

Annie had pulled some nasty tricks on the
lovely
Tiffany, but they'd backfired. The only thing her efforts had accomplished was to upset her father and widen the rift between them.

With her mother a weakling and her father refusing to have anything to do with her, Annie had nearly self-destructed. Fortunately, Andrew had stepped in and, with Courtney's help, gotten her away from the dangerous path she'd chosen.

“You're quiet all of a sudden,” her mother whispered.

Not wanting to confess where her mind had wandered, Annie said, “I had a thought.”

“Don't let it go to your head.”

“Funny one, Mom.” Annie smiled into the dark.

“And? Want to share that thought?”

“Jason's actually really nice.” Jason was more than nice; she'd probably try to keep this going, see where it went, although he lived in California and long-distance relationships were a drag.

“Do you know what you're going to tell Vance?” her mother asked.

“I think so.” She paused. “Vance should've thought about being a third wheel when he agreed to go to Europe with Matt and Jessie,” she began. “I've got more to do with my life than give up a whole month just so he doesn't feel lonely while he's away. He had his chance and he blew it.”

“But you'd still like to be with him, wouldn't you?”

“Yes, but for all the wrong reasons.”

“Oh?”

“I want to be with him because we're comfortable together. Familiar. But that isn't a good enough basis for uprooting my whole life.” The more Annie verbalized her thoughts, the more convinced she was that she'd made the right decision. And the more she felt that pursuing a relationship with Jason made sense. The very reason she'd had doubts about him—the fact that he wasn't Vance—was now why she wanted to see where a connection between them might lead.

“Can we go back to sleep now?”

“Okay,” Annie said, but she didn't think she would.

T
hey stayed in New Orleans another day, and after a leisurely drive, got to Vero Beach late Monday afternoon. Bethanne hadn't heard from Max. She'd toyed with the idea of contacting him, but had resisted.

For now.

“I can't believe how much everything's changed,” Ruth kept repeating as they made their way into town. On the drive down Route 60, she'd pointed left and right, shaking her head at what were once orange groves as far as the eye could see, but were now mostly housing developments and suburban sprawl.

“Call Royce,” Annie said when they reached their hotel and had unpacked.

Ruth paced the room, nervously rubbing her palms. “You think I should?” she asked, looking at Bethanne. “I mean, so soon? We just got here.”

“You said you would,” Bethanne reminded her.

“Grandma,” Annie groaned. “He's waiting to hear from you. Now call him!” Annie commanded, gesturing at the room's phone.

Ruth glanced uncertainly toward Bethanne, who nodded her encouragement.

“Okay…I will,” Ruth declared, sounding more like a schoolgirl than a mature adult, “but if this turns out badly, I'll blame the two of you.” She fixed them both with a shaky glare.

“It won't, I promise,” Annie said with utter confidence.

Bethanne watched discreetly as Ruth sat on the bed and punched in Royce's number from a slip of paper in her purse. She held the receiver to her ear, clenching and unclenching her fist. In the silence Bethanne could hear the phone ring, followed by a man's voice answering.

“Royce, it's Ruth,” she began, her own voice fluttering with anxiety. She rushed on. “My granddaughter thought I should let you know we made it here safely. We're in Vero Beach at the hotel the reunion committee recommended.”

While Bethanne couldn't hear what Royce said, she saw from Ruth's reaction that he seemed pleased to have heard from her. Ruth hunched over, and Bethanne could see her smiling.

“Sure—but my daughter-in-law and granddaughter are with me. All right. Uh-huh…that would be very nice.” She looked at Bethanne and Annie, who stood with their hands clasped as they awaited the outcome. “Okay, yes…that's very thoughtful. We'll see you soon.” Ruth hung up the phone.

“Well?” Annie asked expectantly. She and Bethanne were staring at Ruth.

“He wants to take us all to dinner,” Ruth said.

“
All
of us?” Bethanne asked to be sure she understood correctly.

“His grandson is with him, and he's bringing him along for you to meet.”

Annie smiled, clearly intrigued by this unexpected turn of events. “Was he happy to hear from you?”

Ruth blushed. “I think so,” she said.

“Told you,” Annie crowed, collecting a fresh set of clothes and heading for the shower.

“I need to change, too.” Ruth looked down at what she was wearing. She brushed an invisible speck of dirt from the front of her blouse. “I don't know if I'm ready to see Royce again,” she muttered, her forehead wrinkling.

“Yes, you are,” Bethanne insisted, amused and deeply touched at the sight of her mother-in-law in such a state.

Ruth immediately started riffling through her clothes, searching for the perfect outfit in which to rendezvous with her high school sweetheart. With both Annie and Ruth occupied, Bethanne grabbed her cell and stepped out onto the patio, closing the sliding glass door carefully behind her. The waves breaking on the beach were hypnotic, and the ocean breeze dispelled the intense heat and humidity of late afternoon.

Sitting in one of the patio chairs, Bethanne punched out Max's cell number. She had no idea if she'd reach him. If she didn't, she'd leave a message.

Max picked up on the fourth ring, just before the call went to voice mail.

“Max…it's Bethanne.”

“Bethanne.” His voice was low.

“Where are you?”

“On the way to California.” He paused. “Are you in Florida yet?”

“We arrived about thirty minutes ago.”

“Is Grant there?”

“Not yet. He's meeting us later.” She didn't want to think about Grant right now. “How are you?”

“Miserable.” He laughed hoarsely.

“Are you really?” Bethanne hugged the phone tighter.

He muttered something under his breath. “You don't need to sound so happy about it.”

“I can't help it. I'm feeling exactly the same without you.”

“How was New Orleans?”

“We ate beignets at Café du Monde yesterday morning. Last night we listened to jazz on Bourbon Street. After that, I ended up
drinking some wicked alcoholic concoction in a hurricane glass. It knocked me for a loop.”

“You three didn't get into any trouble, did you?”

“None that I care to mention,” she joked. “I'd always heard that New Orleans was famous for its food, and it was fantastic.” She found herself chattering on. “Annie talked Ruth and me into trying a mint julep—”

Max snorted in amusement. “Were you able to walk back to the hotel afterward?”

“No…” Bethanne giggled. “We had to get a taxi.”

She paused as their laughter died away, then said quietly, “I wish you'd been there.”

“I do, too,” he told her. “Maybe one day we'll go back together.” Grant had said that, too…. Just then, Annie opened the sliding glass door, wearing a sleeveless summer dress Bethanne had never seen before. She must have purchased it in Branson.

“I need to go,” Bethanne said hurriedly.

“I'm glad you called.”

“I am, too. Give my best to Rooster.”

As she ended the call, she experienced a piercing sense of loss. Instead of feeling better, she felt worse.

“Was that Max?” Annie asked.

Bethanne nodded.

“Dad called,” Annie continued. “His flight landed on time and he's on his way to Vero.”

“Okay.”

“Grandma suggested he join us for dinner,” Annie said, leaning against the glass door.

Bethanne's voice was cool. “What about the conference? Won't he be missing that?”

Annie shrugged. “You'll have to ask him.”

For a moment, Bethanne wondered if there even was a conference. It had certainly come up very conveniently.

“Aren't you going to get ready for dinner?” Annie prompted.

Reluctantly, Bethanne stood up and prepared to go back inside the room.

“Mom,” Annie murmured, putting a hand on her arm. “Grandma's pretty nervous about seeing Royce. You might want to help her.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Bethanne searched Annie's face.

“I don't know. You always managed with me.” Annie smiled.

“But…Ruth isn't my daughter.”

“Pretend she is.” Annie glanced over her shoulder. “Someone's got to do something. She's pacing back and forth, and I'm afraid if she sprays on any more cologne she might set off the fire alarm.”

Sure enough, Bethanne found her pacing the length of the room, pausing only to gnaw on her cuticles.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” she told Ruth.

“Fifteen minutes for what?”

“To take a quick shower and change clothes.”

“Then what?”

“Then I'm taking you to the bar.”

“I can't let Royce find me in the bar!” she cried.

“Yes, you can.” Bethanne adopted her firmest parental tone. “Now, don't argue with me.”

Ruth stared at her like a forest animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

Shortly thereafter, Bethanne escorted her to the lounge, which was a cozy, unpretentious place, with an old-fashioned wooden U-shaped bar and a few mismatched tables and chairs. A cheerful bartender took their drink order. Bethanne asked for two glasses of white wine, which were brought to the table a few minutes later.

Ruth took one sip and nearly coughed her lungs out.

“Are you okay?” Bethanne pounded her on the back.

Ruth shook her head vigorously.

“What's wrong?” Bethanne asked, startled.

“Royce just came in,” she whispered, while she dug in her purse for a tissue to wipe her eyes.

“Where?” Bethanne scanned the dimly lit room.

Ruth nodded toward the tall, silver-haired man who'd just slipped onto a bar stool with his back to them.

“Are you all right?” Bethanne whispered.

Ruth seemed paralyzed with fright. “I don't know if I can face him.”

Bethanne was surprised to see Ruth's hands trembling.

“I hurt him so much…” she began in a broken voice that Bethanne had never heard before.

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

Ruth cut her off with a sharp shake of her head. “He might have, but I'm not sure I ever can.” She sat for several minutes, clutching the now-tattered wisp of tissue. Then, as Bethanne watched, she slid out of her chair and squared her shoulders.

Bethanne gave her a smile of encouragement.

Ruth walked up behind Royce and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Royce whirled around. His face registered shock. For a long moment all they did was stare at each other. “Ruth… Ruth, is that really you?”

“Have I changed so much?” she asked, taking a step back, as if dreading the answer. She pressed her fingers to her lips, seemingly on the verge of tears.

“No, no…” He blinked, apparently to clear his vision. “You're even more beautiful now. More beautiful than I remembered.”

“Royce…” she said, then faltered.

They embraced wordlessly, then he took Ruth's face in his hands as he gazed down at her.

Just then, Annie entered the bar, having updated her Facebook page with photos from the road. Taking in the reunion between Ruth and Royce, she broke into a huge smile and gave Bethanne a thumbs-up.

Royce's grandson, Craig, was the next to arrive; shortly after he joined the party and introductions were made, Bethanne noticed
that he and Annie fell into animated conversation. Royce and Ruth hardly looked up, drowning in each other's eyes.

Leaning back in her seat, Bethanne savored her wine and surveyed the scene. In a few days' time they'd fly home to Seattle and Bethanne would return to her regular life, but she wouldn't be the same woman. The trip had changed her. It had changed them all. The three of them had grown close, sharing their secrets, confronting their fears. And despite some moments of tension, they'd come to understand and support one another in new ways.

She was so immersed in her thoughts that she almost missed Grant's entrance. He walked into the bar and glanced around, brightening when he saw her. To her surprise, Bethanne felt a surge of affection. Tall and lean, Grant still cut a striking figure, and his energy was palpable. They'd been a good match—partly because Bethanne had always been content to remain in the background, his silent partner in more ways than one.

His smile was electric, transforming his entire face. As he started toward her, she was reminded of his ability to make people feel they were the sole focus of his attention. Over the years, she'd heard many of his colleagues talk about his charisma and its effect on clients. He obviously still had it.

Ruth spotted her son before he reached Bethanne and pulled him over to make introductions. Grant caught her eye and winked, but when the three couples sat down together, he was trapped on the other side of the table. After sharing a bottle of wine, they all left for dinner at the restaurant beside the hotel.

The Ocean Grill boasted an interesting assortment of wrought iron, stained glass and other collectibles. While they were being seated at their table next to the window, Grant wangled a seat next to Bethanne. Outside, the surf roared against the sand and groups of tourists walked the beach, waves crashing at their feet.

Bethanne felt Grant's hand touch hers beneath the table. “I've missed you,” he murmured.

She gave him a fleeting smile but kept her eyes on the menu. The truth was, he'd been in her thoughts more than she wanted
to admit. Despite her reservations, his familiar presence brought back the glow of happier times. Grant slipped comfortably into his role as father and son—something that Max, for all his intensity, could never do. She studied him as he chatted effortlessly with Royce and Ruth, full of high spirits and completely at ease. Grant was family, and that was difficult to ignore or dismiss.

The wine flowed as the evening progressed, and Bethanne relaxed. At Royce's urging, she ordered the pompano with apricot sauce and found it outstanding. As was typical, Grant and Annie both ordered the same entrée—the stone crab claws—which they ate with gusto.

After dinner Annie and Craig went for a walk along the beach. Royce and Ruth did, too, leaving Grant and Bethanne alone at the table. Bethanne stirred her coffee, suddenly self-conscious.

“I brought you something,” Grant said.

“From Seattle?”

“Not exactly.” He reached inside his dinner jacket and took out a small wrapped package.

“You don't need to buy me gifts,” she protested, although she couldn't suppress her curiosity. Grant had always been a generous and original gift-giver; it was one of his talents. He never once forgot an anniversary or her birthday, and outdid himself from year to year in the extravagance and thoughtfulness of his presents.

“I wanted you to have this,” he said as she untied the bow and removed the paper.

The instant she saw the box, Bethanne knew.

Nestled inside was the button she'd seen in the antique store in New Orleans. Annie had obviously mentioned it to him; he must have ordered it that same night.

“Do you like it?”

“Very much,” she breathed, recalling the story about the soldiers and their sweethearts.

“Every time you look at that button,” he said, his head close to hers, “I want you to think of me.”