A Turn in the Road

by Debbie Macomber

  Bethanne couldn’t remember the last time Grant had addressed Andrew as “son.”

  “Well, Dad, I did talk to Mom and she said the decision was mine and Courtney’s.”

  Grant glanced at Bethanne.

  “The wine and champagne were given to them, not me,” she said.

  Grant blinked. “So...you’re taking the wine.”

  “And the champagne.” Andrew shrugged again. “It’s a gift. Courtney and I were offered a nice gift by a friend of Mom, Grandma and Annie, so we’re saying yes. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “All right,” Grant said, attempting to disguise his wounded pride. Seeing the two soup bowls set on the kitchen table, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “It looks like you two have everything under control here. If you need me for anything, give me a call.”

  “Sure,” Andrew muttered.

  Wearing an expression of both hurt and disappointment, Grant walked out of the house.

  Bethanne waited until the front door closed before she confronted her son. “Andrew, was it really necessary to say that the wine’s from Max?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it was. Dad would find out about it sooner or later, and frankly I’d rather tell him now than have him discover it the day of the wedding.”

  She sighed, regretting the hostility between father and son, as she removed the corn bread from the oven and set it on the stove top to cool.

  “Annie said earlier that you and Dad looked at a house on Lake Washington yesterday,” Andrew commented.

  “He wanted me to see it.”

  “So things between you and Dad are going okay?”

  Bethanne didn’t answer. Instead, she picked up the bowls, filled them and brought them back to the table. Andrew took the sour cream from the refrigerator and spooned it into a small serving dish.

  “Your father is making every effort.” She sliced the corn bread, not meeting his eyes.

  “Sure he is. Dad wants you back because you flattered his ego. He needs that. He needs you. It took him long enough to realize he was never going to find anyone who’d do anything close to what you did for him.”

  “Andrew... I know you and your father have problems that need to be resolved, but Grant isn’t that mercenary.”

  Her son laughed outright. “Mom, don’t you believe it. Dad’s always been about Dad. I’m not championing Max. I’ve only spoken to him the one time, so I don’t know him. What I do know is the way you react whenever I mention his name. You get flustered—”

  “I most certainly do not.”

  “There,” he said, pointing his finger at her. “You’re doing it now.”

  Embarrassed, Bethanne raised her hands to her face.

  “It’s been six years since the divorce and I’ve never seen you react to any man like you do to Max. You’re crazy about him and I have to tell you I think it’s great. I don’t want Dad stepping in now and ruining it for you.”

  “But I don’t know what I want,” she said, sitting down and reaching for her napkin. Although she made a pretense of eating, she hardly swallowed a single bite.

  “Yes, you do,” Andrew countered softly. “You do know.”

  “Your father and I have talked about this and maybe he’s right... I’d gotten so wrapped up in you kids and all the volunteer work I did with—”

  “Mom,” Andrew said, cutting her off. “You’re a good mother. You always were.”

  “But was I a good wife?”

  “Yes,” he said emphatically, “and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. You did everything for Dad. You staged homes and ran errands and organized parties.”

  “Well, yes, I helped where I could.”

  “Trust me, you were a good wife.”

  “I played a role in the divorce, too, Andrew. I didn’t see it right away but I wasn’t completely innocent. I allowed our marriage to grow stale. Your father was manipulated by a woman out to advance her career and the shortest path came through using Grant. Yes, he let her do it, but he paid a high price for that. I wish you’d stop being so hard on him.”

  Andrew stared at her as if seeing her with new eyes. “I can’t believe you’re defending him.”

  “Think about it, Andrew. Your father’s alone. Really alone. Oh, he talks to Annie but until recently the two of us hardly ever spoke. You don’t have much contact with him, either. He isn’t fond of his sister and—”

  “And he doesn’t visit his mother nearly as often as he should.”

  “Okay, I agree. Not only that, I believe your grandmother might be moving to Florida.”

  “Yeah, I got that feeling when I talked to her. She’s head over heels for this old boyfriend of hers, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.” Bethanne smiled. “But getting back to your father...”

  “Okay, Mom, I see what you mean. Dad’s out in the cold, but frankly he put himself there. It isn’t like we shoved him out the door and then turned the lock. He chose to leave.”

  “It takes a big man to admit when he’s been wrong,” she said, consciously quoting Ruth. “Your father would give anything to undo the harm he did. I admire him for that. Look at it from his point of view.”

  Andrew slowly shook his head. “I wish I could. You and Annie might be willing to forgive and forget, but I can’t. Dad was heartless and calculating. He couldn’t dump us fast enough when he left. I tried to talk to him, tried to get him to see reason. I begged him to reconsider, and you know what?” Her son’s voice rose with emotion. “He hung up on me. And you know what else? He doesn’t even remember doing it. My coming to him meant nothing. Nothing. Well, he can come to me now and I’ll give him the same treatment and we’ll see how much he likes being ignored.”

  “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.”

  Thirty-Four

  “Where’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.

&n
bsp; 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 assorted 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.