A Turn in the Road (31 page)

“Oh, Andrew…” Bethanne had no idea her son had ever tried to reason with Grant.

His jaw was clenched as she reached across the table and laid her hand over his wrist. “I wish I knew what to say.”

He grew even more intense. “Don't ask me to forgive him, Mom, because I don't think I can.”

“W
here's Dad?” Annie asked anxiously, turning to Bethanne as if she could supply the answer. Annie and the other bridesmaids were lined up at the back of the church. Everyone was there for the wedding rehearsal—everyone except Grant. Courtney carried a paper-plate bouquet comprising the ribbons from her two wedding showers; her grandmother, Vera Pulanski, had created it. Her father, along with her brother, his wife and their two children, were seated in a pew. Her sister, Juliana, was her matron of honor, so she, too, waited with Annie.

“Dad should be here,” Annie said. “Grandma and Royce were asking where he is.”

“I'm sure he's on his way,” Bethanne whispered reassuringly. The rehearsal was about to start and he hadn't shown up yet. This wasn't like Grant, who was rarely late for anything. The last time they'd spoken he'd said he'd be at the church by five, but it was quarter past now. She glanced at her watch again, fighting down her concern.

“Ms. Hamlin,” Pastor Hudson said, smiling over at Bethanne. “I need you to sit here.”

“Okay.” She moved to the spot he indicated.

“Your husband isn't here?” he asked.

“Apparently, my ex-husband has been delayed,” Bethanne said, and looked at her watch again.

“Your ex-husband,” Pastor Hudson repeated. “In that case we should make other arrangements.”

Bethanne was about to mention that Grant wanted the two of them to sit in the same pew. She couldn't decide whether she should. Grant would be disappointed if they took separate pews, but she was afraid their family and friends would read too much into their sitting together.

In the end, she didn't say anything to the pastor; she'd explain it to Grant later.

The rehearsal was almost over before he arrived—breathless and contrite. “I got held up in traffic. There was an accident and everything came to a standstill,” he said as he rushed through the church doors. “I tried to phone but everyone's cell is turned off.”

“It's all right, Dad,” Annie assured him.

“I'm sorry,” he said again, and looked at Andrew, who ignored him. “I would've been here if it was humanly possible.”

“We understand, Grant,” Bethanne murmured.

He seemed to appreciate that, but it was several minutes before he calmed down. Pastor Hudson reviewed the procedures a second time. When he pointed out that Grant wouldn't be sitting with Bethanne, Grant's eyes shot to hers.

His look of chagrin nearly undid her, but she was impressed by his quick recovery. He nodded and silently took his place. Bethanne felt bad about it, but she'd never agreed that they'd sit together as a married couple.

“What happened?” Ruth asked when the rehearsal was over. “Everyone was worried.”

“Traffic,” Bethanne explained, coming to stand beside Grant.

“It's my own fault,” he said. “I left the office later than I intended.”

Royce joined them, slipping his arm around Ruth. The couple were charming together—a reminder to everyone that love is ageless.

“We're heading out for the rehearsal dinner,” Annie said, approaching the group. “Grandma and Royce, do you want to ride with me?”

“Sure.”

“I'll take them,” Grant offered. “I need to spend as much time with my mother as I can.”

“Why, Grandma?” Annie asked. “Are you going somewhere?” She exchanged a smile with Bethanne.

“Florida,” Royce answered. “And the sooner, the better.”

“Royce,” Ruth protested, but not too much. “We weren't going to say anything until after Andrew's wedding.”

“Are you and Royce engaged?” Bethanne asked.

Royce raised Ruth's hand to his lips while she blushed. “We are,” he said. “No ring yet, but I didn't want even one more day to go by without making it official.”

“Congratulations, Mom,” Grant said, hugging her, then shaking hands with Royce. “So you're moving to Florida.”

“I am,” she said as she looked up at Royce. “You won't miss me.”

“Don't be so sure about that, but I can see you're in good hands.”

“You're welcome to visit as often as you like,” Royce told him.

“Within reason,” Ruth added. “We're going to be newlyweds and we might not be interested in company for some time.”

Grant laughed. “You'll definitely see me in Vero,” he said. His eyes met Bethanne's and he smiled.

Bethanne kissed the older woman's cheek. “I couldn't be happier for you, Ruth.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

The church had started to empty; the wedding party, plus as
sorted family members, were on their way to the Blue Moon, where the rehearsal dinner was being held.

Grant led his mother and Royce outside. “Don't worry,” he joked, “I won't be late for dinner.” He pulled out his keys and pushed the remote to unlock the car door.

Bethanne waved and walked toward her own car.

The Blue Moon was a restaurant Bethanne had often worked with through the years. She had a good relationship with the manager, who'd been accommodating and helpful.

When she got there, Grant caught up with her just as she was about to enter the banquet room. “Before we go in, I have a question.”

“Yes?” Bethanne said, although she would've preferred to put off a conversation with him until after dinner. She had a number of last-minute things she needed to check.

“Did Andrew decide to serve the wine…Max sent?”

“Yes.” No point in prevaricating or dodging the truth.

Grant stiffened at her answer.

“It was up to Andrew and Courtney.”

“If someone asks about the wine, what will you tell them?”

“I'll say it came from a family friend—but why would anyone ask?”

Grant held her look for a long moment before he lowered his eyes. “You're right,” he mumbled. “No one will.”

Bethanne reached for his hand and gently squeezed it. “Tonight and tomorrow aren't about us. This time is for our son and Courtney. Agreed?”

Grant nodded. “I shouldn't have said anything. I can't seem to keep my foot out of my mouth, can I?”

Bethanne patted him on the shoulder. “Grant, it's fine.” His evening had begun badly with that traffic accident and then arriving late for the rehearsal. She could see how tense he was throughout dinner, not really connecting with anyone, which was uncharacteristic for him. He stayed close to his mother and Royce and
made eye contact with Bethanne several times, but she was busy organizing the dinner and greeting family and friends.

By the time she was ready to leave, he'd disappeared.

 

The wedding was taking place on Saturday afternoon at three. Bethanne helped Courtney dress, as did Courtney's sister, Juliana, her matron of honor. In her beautiful slim-fitting gown, with the wedding purse their friend Anne Marie Roche had knit and wearing Bethanne's gloves, she looked elegant. Lovely. Her beauty came from more than simply her appearance; so much love and happiness shone from her face that Bethanne was nearly brought to tears.

The photographers showed up around one and everyone gathered for the big photo shoot. Bethanne noticed that Grant remained in the background as much as possible, although he did spend some time talking to her father and his lady friend, Suzette, who'd arrived in Seattle that very morning and had rushed to the church.

Fifteen minutes before the ceremony was to begin, Bethanne, Courtney and the matron of honor, along with the three bridesmaids, assembled in a small room off the church foyer. Bethanne could hear the guests arriving.

If she survived this day it would be a miracle. Of all the hundreds of events she'd worked on through the years, the one that frayed her nerves the most was her own son's wedding.

“There's something you should know,” Courtney said as Bethanne adjusted her veil.

Her future daughter-in-law looked so serious that Bethanne paused and lowered her hands. “Oh?”

“Andrew sent Max an invitation to the wedding. He felt it was the least we could do after he gave us the wine.”

“And he didn't think to tell
me?
”

“He was going to, but, well, he wasn't sure how you'd react. We knew Grant wouldn't be pleased but Andrew said he really didn't care.”

Bethanne inhaled a calming breath. If she was nervous before,
this news set her completely on edge. Max could very well be in the church right now!

“Mom?” Annie stepped toward her. “You okay?”

She forced herself to nod. “Andrew invited Max to the wedding.”

“He did?”

Bethanne clasped her hands.

“Are you glad?”

Bethanne suddenly broke into a huge smile. “Yes…very glad. I know that disappoints you, Annie….”

“No,” her daughter said, stopping her. “It doesn't. I could see it wasn't really working with you and Dad. You both wanted it to, especially Dad, but it's too late.”

Her daughter had recognized that almost before Bethanne did. “I'll talk to your father after the wedding.”

“All I ever really wanted was for you to be happy, Mom.”

“I know.”

“Don't worry about Dad. He'll be fine.”

Bethanne was convinced of that, as well.

Just knowing Max would probably appear at some point during the day filled her with a sense of joy, of anticipation and excitement—and it did nothing to calm her nerves.

To her delight, the wedding ceremony went perfectly. Bethanne dabbed at her eyes when Andrew and Courtney promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. Grant looked over at her as if remembering the day he'd spoken those same vows. She saw the pain in his eyes and knew how deeply he regretted having broken that promise. She smiled at him, telling him he was forgiven. And this time she meant that wholeheartedly, without reservations or lingering resentments.

Annie rode with Bethanne to the reception, which was being held at the Century Club. Years earlier, Bethanne had been a member and supporter of the club and, because of her association with it, was able to secure the hall. It was a Victorian building in the middle of the city, with five acres of manicured gardens and
lawns. As far as she could tell, Max hadn't attended the ceremony, although she'd looked for him.

“Mom, did you see how happy Grandma is with Royce?” Annie asked.

“How can anyone avoid seeing it? I'm so pleased for your grandmother.” Robin, however, hadn't taken the news of her mother's impending nuptials with good grace. Suspicious by nature, she'd demanded a background check, an idea Ruth had bluntly rejected.

Although she was preoccupied with keeping an eye out for Max, Bethanne managed to smile and exchange greetings throughout the meal. She moved from table to table, welcoming their guests. She lost track of Grant, but later noticed him making the rounds, too. When she could, she'd find a moment to talk to him about Max's invitation.

The best man offered the toast and the band began to play. Andrew had just escorted his bride onto the dance floor when Bethanne saw a figure standing in the back of the room.

Max.

She blinked, excitement mingling with joy.

This wasn't the Max she knew who wore chaps and a leather jacket. This wasn't the Max of simple needs and simple tastes, content to live life on the road. This was Max in a suit and tie. A man of sophistication and finesse and power. And yet…he was still Max. The Max she loved.

Drawn as if by invisible strings, she walked toward him.

He walked toward her.

They met halfway across the room, which was now crowded with dancing couples. They stood motionless, facing each other.

“You did come,” she whispered, hardly able to believe he was there.

“Would you rather I left and we talked later?”

“No…stay, please stay.” She reached for his hand and held it in both of hers.

G
rant saw Bethanne approach the other man and instinctively realized he must be Max Scranton. Anger surged through him but as he started across the room his son placed one hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing, Dad?”

“That's Max! How dare he show up here.” The anger burned even hotter inside him.

“I sent him an invitation.”

Grant felt as if his own son had thrust a knife in his back. He stared at Andrew, shocked that he'd betrayed him in this way.

“Why?” He choked out the question. Did Andrew hate him that much?

“Dad,” Andrew said, locking eyes with him. “Look at them. Take a good, long look at them.”

Grant did and in that instant he knew with absolute certainty that it was too late. It didn't matter if Andrew had mailed Max an invitation or not. Grant had already lost Bethanne. He'd sealed his own fate the day he'd abandoned his family.

Without another word he turned and hurried out. Not knowing
where else he could go, he went into the men's room. Pain overwhelmed him and, fearing he was about to collapse, he braced both hands against the wall, head down. He closed his eyes and struggled to breathe normally.

Despite all his efforts, his folly had cost him everything. He'd hoped to win back Bethanne. God help him, he loved her; he hadn't known how much until it was too late.

“Dad?” Andrew stepped into the room and stood directly behind him.

Grant didn't respond.

“It's going to be all right.”

No, it wasn't. Nothing would ever be all right again. He was without hope. “I've lost your mother.”

“Yes, I believe you have.”

“She's going with Max.”

“She's falling in love with him,” Andrew said.

Grant straightened, fists clenched at his sides. He fought to hold on to his composure, although tears scalded his eyes.

“You're going to be all right,” Andrew told him again.

Grant snickered. “Like you care what happens to me.”

“Actually, I do,” Andrew whispered. “I didn't think I did, and I'd rather not, but you're still my father.”

Grant turned to face his son. His vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears. He'd thought he'd lost his son completely. With a wrenching sob he reached for Andrew and drew him into his arms and hugged him close, as though his very life depended on this moment. Perhaps it did.

“I'm so sorry,” he sobbed. “So sorry. I need my son…please, I need my son.”

It took Andrew a few seconds to return the hug. For a long time, they clung to each other.

“I need you, too,” Andrew confessed. “I didn't want to, but I do.”

They broke apart and after a few minutes Grant said in a husky
voice, “Okay, I'm ready.” He wiped the moisture from his cheeks with the back of his hand.

Andrew stared at him quizzically.

“I need to meet Max and wish your mother happiness.” It wouldn't be easy but he'd told Bethanne he loved her enough to want her happiness above his own and he meant it.

Andrew nodded approvingly. “I'll come with you.”

Grant regarded him for a few seconds. Although he'd lost Bethanne, he'd found the road back to his son. He put his hand on Andrew's shoulder, proud of the fine young attorney he'd become, and managed to say, “Thank you.”

 

“I couldn't wait another second,” Max whispered.

With a huge lump forming in her throat, Bethanne seemed incapable of doing anything other than gazing up at him. Not until she'd learned he might be at the wedding did she realize how desperately she'd missed him.

“I sincerely hope you're as glad to see me as I am to see you,” he murmured.

Still in a trance she continued to stare. This was
Max
. Right here. Now. This minute.

Grinning boyishly, he added, “You don't need to give me your answer yet as long as you let me hold you.”

Looking around her, Bethanne became aware that they stood in the middle of the dance floor with couples all around them. The music was slow and sultry, a love ballad.

“Maybe we should just dance,” she suggested.

Max's grin widened. “I welcome any excuse to wrap my arms around you.”

They moved a step closer and Max slipped his arms around her waist. Holding her tight against him, he lifted her feet off the floor, nearly crushing her in his embrace. Bethanne put both arms around his neck and buried her face in the curve of his shoulder. “I have missed you so much.”

He snorted as though discounting her words. “You have no idea what I've been through.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. This time apart had been hard on her, too, but necessary. In the weeks they hadn't spoken, she'd been able to listen to her inner self and recognize what she wanted. Just as her son had said—once she listened, she knew.

What she wanted. Who she needed. Max.

Because of her twenty years with Grant and because of their children, she felt she had to give reconciliation an honest attempt, but it hadn't worked. It never really would, despite Grant's efforts to win her back.

Max's hold relaxed and she slid down his front until her feet were secure on the floor. Although they made a pretense of dancing, all they really did was shuffle their feet and gaze at each other. Bethanne was nearly giddy with joy.

Max pressed the side of his face against her temple and she closed her eyes. This must be what it felt like in heaven, she mused. This overwhelming sense of happiness, of being complete. This elation.

“Mom, Mom…” Annie's voice broke into her near-trance. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Max to look at her daughter, who'd hurried across the polished dance floor.

“Mom,” Annie repeated, and stopped abruptly when she saw Max. Her jaw fell open. “Wow, you look…fabulous.”

“Thank you.” Max smiled down at Bethanne.

“I came to tell you Rooster's here.”

“You brought Rooster?” Bethanne directed the question to Max.

He winked. “It's more a case of him bringing me.”

“I owe him,” Bethanne whispered.

“We both do.”

“Rooster is talking to Grandma and Royce,” Annie said. “And Dad's—”

“Oh, boy.” Bethanne wasn't so sure what Grant's reaction would be, although she sensed that he knew it was over. Really over.

Annie shook her head. “Don't worry. I've already talked to Dad. He and Andrew…well, you'll see.”

“I'll talk to your father myself.” Bethanne couldn't leave this to anyone else. He had to hear it from her; she was about to explain that when Andrew and Grant approached them.

Grant stepped forward and the two men eyed each other intently. Andrew clasped his dad's shoulder and after a momentary hesitation Grant extended his hand. “I'm Grant.”

“Max.”

His gaze shifted to Bethanne, and he hugged her, then looked back at Max. “Love her.”

“I intend to do exactly that,” Max said. “Thank you.”

Grant nodded and they exchanged handshakes. Grant turned to face Bethanne.

She met his look and saw the pain in his eyes. He held her gaze a moment longer and whispered, “Be happy.”

She swallowed tightly. “I will.” Then her eyes met Andrew's and she realized that the wall between her son and his father was gone.

Grant moved away and greeted an old friend as if nothing of importance had taken place.

Andrew came forward. “You're Max.” The comment was more statement than question.

“I take it I have you to thank for the invitation,” Max said as they shook hands.

Courtney joined them, and Andrew slipped his arm around her waist. “And this is Courtney, my wife. I imagine we'll be seeing a lot more of you in the future.”

Max turned to Bethanne, his eyes full of warmth. “That's certainly my intention. By the way, congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Courtney smiled at him. “Andrew and I also wanted to thank you for the wine.”

“And the champagne,” Andrew added. “I'd offer you a glass but it disappeared pretty quickly after the toast.”

Max seemed touched by their appreciation. “I wanted to do something for you. I hope your guests enjoyed it.”

“We all did,” Andrew assured him. Then, looking from him to Bethanne, he said, “I hope you intend to make my mother blissfully happy.”

Max took Bethanne's hand in his. “I plan to see to it at my earliest opportunity.”

“And when will that be?” Bethanne asked.

“How about right now?”

“Celebrate, Mom,” her son whispered. “This is a festive occasion.”

“I am happy.” How could she not be? Max drew her back into his embrace and they resumed dancing, held close in each other's arms. They passed her father and Suzette on the dance floor; he smiled and gave them an outrageous wink.

Annie left soon after, and Andrew and Courtney continued to mingle with their guests. Bethanne noticed that Max's appearance had caused a stir. She could almost hear the speculation as to who he might be and how she knew this handsome stranger. “So that
is
you.” Ruth marched up to Max and Bethanne, with Royce at her side.

“Hello, Ruth,” Max greeted her, releasing Bethanne yet again.

With one hand on her hip, Ruth said, “If you'd been dressed like that when we first met you, you would've saved me a lot of grief.”

“Sorry about that.”

“As you should be.”

Max laughed out loud. “And this has to be the famous Royce.”

Royce thrust out his hand. “Glad to make your acquaintance,” he said.

“Likewise.”

“We were talking to Rooster a few minutes ago,” Ruth said. “He was wearing a
suit.
And a tie.”

Bethanne nodded. “He cleans up pretty well, too, doesn't he?”

“You two certainly played me for a fool.”

“Ah, Ruth, would we do that?” Max teased.

“It appears so. Now, you listen to me, young man. For whatever reason, this girl loves you. I can't understand it myself. She was married to my son and I have to tell you, she—”

“Ruth,” Bethanne interrupted, convinced Ruth had had one glass of champagne too many.

“She deserves a man who'll love and appreciate her,” Ruth went on. “If that isn't you, then I suggest you leave now before I make a fuss and embarrass my grandson and his bride on their wedding day.”

“I'm your man,” Max said. “I plan to love Bethanne for the rest of my life.”

“I can shorten that life if you fail me.”

“What's going on here?” Robin, Grant's sister, rushed over to them, reading the situation all wrong. “Should I contact the authorities?”

“Oh, hardly,” Ruth told her. “This doesn't concern you.” She planted her hands on her daughter's back and steered Robin away. “By the way,” Ruth said over her shoulder, “Max, this is Robin. Robin, Max.”

He sent her a small wave.

“Is there anyone else I should meet before I take you someplace private and show you how much I've missed you?”

“I'm not sure.” Bethanne looked around, conscious of all the people watching her and Max.

“Well, I am.” With one sweep of his arms, he lifted her completely off her feet.

Bethanne gave a cry of surprise as she slipped her own arms around his neck. His right arm was around her waist and the other supported her legs. He started toward the exit.

It was such an outrageous, romantic thing to do, Bethanne didn't know how to respond. “Put me down,” she gasped.

“Not on your life.”

“Then at least tell me where we're going!”

“We're headed,” Max whispered, his eyes brimming with love, “for the rest of our lives.”