A Turn in the Road (27 page)

She smiled up at him and closed her eyes as she allowed the rhythm of the music to carry her. Their steps matched easily, smoothly, as innate as breathing. They used to dance together like this, but that was in another lifetime….

M
ax Scranton pulled his motorcycle into the driveway of the home he'd once shared with Kate and their daughter. He hadn't been here in more than three years. This was the first time he'd come back to Monterey since climbing on his Harley. He'd never intended to stay away this long, but there'd been no reason to return.

Until now. Until he'd met Bethanne.

Time lost all meaning as he sat on the bike in his driveway and stared at the house. He'd expected a flood of grief and regrets, but he felt almost nothing. No guilt, no heartache, no melancholy. His overwhelming emotion was sadness for what no longer existed. The life he'd known here was gone. He'd handed the business over to his brother and had lost touch with the majority of his friends.

Shutting down the engine, he climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. The key to the house was hidden under a fake rock near the front door. His brother and Rooster routinely stopped by to check on the place and give him updates, although he wasn't all that interested. He'd wanted to put the house on the market, but
that would've meant returning and cleaning it out. He'd found the task too daunting.

The car pulling in behind him took him by surprise.

Rooster.

He should've realized his friend would show up. Rooster looked quite different in slacks and a shirt with a button-down collar than he did in his leather vest and chaps. Max wondered what Ruth and Annie would think if they could see Rooster now. They probably wouldn't recognize him; the biker bore little resemblance to the successful advertising executive he was for most of the year.

Rooster got out of his car and closed the door, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the late afternoon. His friend joined him on the porch.

“What are you doing here?” Max demanded.

Max had phoned Rooster a few hours earlier, when he'd arrived in town. They'd parted ways the week before because of Rooster's business commitments. He should've known his friend wouldn't leave it at a simple call. “I was in the neighborhood.”

Max didn't bother to respond to the obvious lie.

“Okay, I wasn't. I figured you might need some company.”

“I'm fine.”

Rooster's skeptical look revealed his doubt. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

Max studied the locked door as he considered his reply. He wasn't ready to face this alone. He appreciated the fact that Rooster was with him, although he'd be hard-pressed to admit it.

He finally inserted the key and opened the door. For an instant he stood there paralyzed. Moving forward required an effort so great he began to sweat. He went in and, after three steps, again stood motionless.

Noticing that Rooster was watching him intently, Max advanced another step. The house was exactly as he'd left it, exactly as he remembered. Directly in front of him was a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows. White leather furniture was tastefully displayed; a black grand piano rested in
one corner of the living room and a huge natural-rock fireplace took up the far wall. The original artwork was worth ten times what Kate had paid for it. She'd always had an eye for talent.

“What are you thinking?” Rooster asked. “How do you feel?”

Max heard the hesitation in his friend's voice. He didn't know what he was
supposed
to think, what he should feel. Closing his eyes he tried to remember what it was like when he'd lived here with Kate and their daughter. Happy. He'd always love Kate, but she was gone and he was alive. He hadn't realized how much life he was capable of until he'd met Bethanne and discovered he could feel again, love again.

“This is a beautiful house,” Rooster commented.

“Kate loved it,” Max said. And so had he. Their home had been a place where friends and family gathered, where they enjoyed good food and wine and one another's company. “I did, too.”

He moved into the kitchen, and then the family room. Portraits of Katherine at different ages lined one wall; her wheelchair and special computer had been stored in her bedroom.

“I kept an eye on the wine cellar,” Rooster said.

Despite himself, Max grinned. “I assumed you would.”

“Do you want me to get us a bottle?”

That sounded like a good idea. “Go ahead.”

Rooster disappeared, and Max found two wineglasses in the alcove off the kitchen and brought them out. One day he'd share a bottle of exquisite wine with Bethanne….

The minute she came to mind, he experienced a burning need to hear her voice. He missed her smile, her scent, missed being with her. Before he could continue with these thoughts Rooster returned with a bottle of expensive French Bordeaux.

“Are we celebrating?” Max had to ask. The wine wholesaled for one hundred and fifty dollars, or it had three years ago. It was probably more now.

“Yes, we are. We're celebrating the fact that you're home.”

“Home,” Max repeated. He hadn't expected to feel this sense of welcome. He was really, truly back, and it felt damn good.

Rooster opened the wine and left it to breathe as they wandered from room to room, inspecting the house.

Max paused just inside the master bedroom door. The walk-in closet was filled with Kate's things—her clothes, shoes, jewelry. Seeing it gave him an emotional jolt. Automatically, he turned and walked away. He'd deal with that later. It was still too soon.

By the time he returned to the living room, Rooster had poured the wine. They sat across from each other in a comfortable silence. With a friend as good as Rooster, words weren't necessary. They savored the wine; Max decided it was worth every penny.

“Have you heard from Bethanne?” Rooster asked after a while.

“No, have you?”

Rooster chuckled. “Not lately.”

“She's with her ex.”

His friend's eyebrow arched. “You worried?”

Max could brush off his concern but Rooster would see through that easily enough. “I'd be lying if I said I wasn't.” He tried not to think of Grant and Bethanne together. No one needed to tell him that the ex would do everything in his power to persuade Bethanne to give him another chance. For that matter, maybe she should. They had plenty of reason to try again.

“Are you going to do anything?”

“Like what?” Max reached for his wine goblet, holding the stem as he studied the dark purplish liquid. It helped if he focused on something like the rich color of the wine rather than his feelings for Bethanne.

“You could always call her. It wouldn't hurt to keep in touch, you know. Her ex phoned her every day, sometimes more than once. Fair is fair.”

Max didn't remember it that way and said so.

“Okay, so Grant talked to the daughter, but you can bet Annie relayed every message.”

Annie was definitely Grant's ally, as she should be. With Max out of the picture and Grant pleading his case, Max had to wonder if he stood a chance. “There's a good possibility I'll lose her.”

“You okay to sit back and let that happen?”

“I don't have any choice.” Before they parted, Max had told her he'd give her breathing room, and he was keeping his word.

“What do you mean?” Rooster argued. “The least you can do is tell her how you feel. Fight fire with fire.”

Max mulled over his friend's advice. “I'll take it under consideration.”

“Do.”

Rooster left a little while later. Max remained in his chair, the wineglass in his hand. His cell phone was attached to his belt, within easy reach. Not once since they'd parted had he called her, although she'd phoned him that one time. Their conversation had been far too short—and then silence. And he knew why. Grant was being persuasive. No doubt about it, the ex had the advantage.

He unclipped his phone, punched out the number and closed his eyes as he waited for her to answer.

“Hello.”

She sounded busy, harried.

Background noise made it difficult to hear. “It's Max.”

“Max. Oh, Max…”

This wasn't the warm reception he'd been hoping for. The tension between his shoulders increased.

“Can you talk?” he asked.

“Give me a minute,” she said. “I need to go out on the patio. I'm in a restaurant and it's hard to hear you.”

The background clatter died down as Bethanne apparently stepped outside. “Where are you?” she asked.

“Monterey, California. At the house where Kate and I lived.”

“Are you okay?”

Funny how that was the first question everyone seemed to have.

“So far. What about you?”

“I'm fine. Everything's good. Annie, Grant and I threw prom night for Ruth and Royce yesterday evening—they're out with friends right now. We fly home next Sunday, after the reunion.”

“Prom night?” He frowned. “You arranged a prom night for your ex-mother-in-law and her high school boyfriend?”

“It's a long story. I'll explain later.”

So there'd be a later for them. Or at least it sounded that way. “Bethanne, listen, there are things I need to tell you, things I should've told you before.”

“Please don't say anything—it isn't necessary.”

A chill went through him. “Are you telling me you've made a decision and you and Grant are getting back together?” That seemed the only logical explanation.

“Yes…no. I don't know… He's been so wonderful and…well, I didn't think it was possible, but after the past few days I'm wondering if maybe we should give it a shot.”

Max couldn't blame her, although his disappointment was devastating. “Are you
sure
this is what you want?”

“No…no. Oh, Max, the minute I heard your voice my heart went crazy. Grant's here and everything seems idyllic. But I'm afraid this won't last.” She sighed. “Try as I might, I can't get you out of my mind.”

He relaxed a little. “I can't get you out of mine, either.” He couldn't lose her so soon after he'd found her. “There's no need to decide anything now,” he said. “You have time.”

“Andrew and Courtney's wedding. I have to get through my son's wedding.” Her voice was frantic. “I have to—”

“Bethanne.” He murmured her name. “Stop. Take a deep breath and listen to me.”

“Okay.”

He heard her soft intake of air. “Everything's going to work out. I'm not going to pressure you one way or the other. This is up to you, and if you want to reconcile with Grant, then I'll abide by your decision and get out of your life.”

“You'd do that? You'd walk away without a word?”

He would. He hated the thought of it, but he would. “Yes. I'd respect your wishes.”

“But…” She sounded hurt, confused.

“Bethanne,” he said. “That's what people do when they love the other person. Your happiness is paramount to me.”

“Do you love me, Max? Is it possible to love someone after such a short time?”

These weren't questions Max felt qualified to answer. “I don't know.” Anything less than total honesty would be wrong. “What I do know is that I feel alive when I'm with you. You inspire me to open my eyes and accept the past and not worry about the future.”

“Oh, Max.”

“If that's love, then that's what I feel. If you think Grant's the man who'll make you happy, then I'll remove myself from the equation.”

“Max, hold on a minute.”

She'd lowered the phone, but Max could still hear. “Tell everyone I'll be back in a minute.” Someone else spoke, although Max couldn't tell who it was. “I'm not being rude. I'll be inside when I'm finished.”

This wasn't a good time. He shouldn't have phoned.

“I'm back now. I'm sorry,” Bethanne said.

“It's all right—I understand. I'll let you return to your meal.” If he'd been smart enough to remember the three-hour time difference, he would've realized it was the dinner hour.

“I…want to see you,” she whispered as though it was a weakness of character. “I know I'm being completely unfair and that you deserve so much more than to be left hanging. I'll be able to think more clearly once I'm back in Seattle and Andrew and Courtney are married. I…apologize that I can't be more definite than that.”

At this point Max was willing to take whatever she was willing to offer. “Get through your son's wedding and then we'll talk. I'll fly up to Seattle and we can meet face-to-face.”

“Does this mean we won't talk until after the wedding?” she asked.

“I'll leave that up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it would be better if you phoned me instead of the other way around.”

“Okay.” She seemed uncertain. “Do you
want
to hear from me?”

That was an understatement. “Yes, very much.”

“Okay.”

“I'll wait for your call.”

“All right.”

“Now go back inside that restaurant and enjoy your dinner.”

“I will. Bye, Max.”

“Bye.” He didn't want the conversation to end, didn't want to break the connection. So he continued to hold the cell phone against his ear. He heard the click and knew she'd terminated the call.

He was losing Bethanne. He felt it and was powerless to do anything more than hope.

A
nnie's suitcase was packed, and while her mother and grandmother ran a few last-minute errands, she stayed at the hotel. Her father would be picking the three of them up early that afternoon for the evening flight to Seattle.

While she waited, she sat in the restaurant that overlooked the Atlantic and read through her emails. Vance sent her as many as five a day. He said basically the same thing in each one.

He was miserable.

As he should be!

He wanted to come back to Seattle.

He should've thought of that before he took off without me.

He wanted her to join him.

Fat chance of that.

Annie wasn't willing to forgive and forget. Okay, deep down maybe she could be talked into letting bygones be bygones. Eventually. But as her mother had pointed out, she wanted Vance to admit he was wrong, which was something he seemed incapable of doing. That being the case, she ignored his pleas. If she sent him one email a day, he should consider himself lucky. Maybe it was
petty and immature, but she made sure he knew she wasn't sitting around pining for him. In fact, she mentioned Craig's and Jason's names at every opportunity.

To be honest, the thought of joining him in Europe did appeal to her, but she'd never let him know that. Besides, she had a year of school left before she got her MBA and she wasn't going to drop out now just to spend a month or two on vacation. As Vance had so incisively said, she had
responsibilities
. He would no doubt realize soon enough that
everyone
had responsibilities.

Annie opened today's first email from Vance, read it and then settled back to mull over this latest bit of news. Vance was returning home at the end of August. His parents had deposited money in his account so he could get his ticket changed. He was heading home.

Annie's first reaction was sarcastic.
Isn't that wonderful?
At the same time, she couldn't help feeling kind of good, knowing that Vance would be in Seattle again. However, she was determined that their relationship wasn't going to slip back to what it had been. For that matter, she wasn't sure she wanted to be with him at all.

Vance had been secretive, insensitive and a jerk, and that was just the beginning of the list of character defects she'd compiled. If he assumed everything would remain status quo between them, he was in for a shock.

Annie generally waited a day or two before she replied to any of Vance's emails. She carefully composed a response and then reviewed every word before she pressed the send button.

She decided not to reply yet. Instead, she emailed Jason. She planned to stay in touch with Royce's grandson, Craig, too; he'd been a lot of fun this past week. They had a great time putting together the prom for their grandparents. She thought it was really cool that Craig's grandfather and her grandmother had gotten together again after fifty years. Those two were crazy about each other. It reminded her of the way Max looked at her mother—and her mother at him.

She almost felt sorry for Max because after the past week it was
pretty obvious that her parents would reunite. The truth was, she actually liked Max. Her problem with him was simple—he stood, or used to stand, between her mother and father.

“I figured I'd find you here.”

Annie looked up to see her father. She checked her watch. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi,” he said, and slid into the booth across from her.

Annie closed her computer. “I didn't think we were leaving for another couple of hours.”

“We aren't. I was hoping you'd be alone so we could chat.”

The waiter approached, and her father waved him off with a grin.

“What's up?” she asked. Reaching for her glass of iced tea, she sipped through the straw.

Her father crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Did you notice how well things are going between your mother and me?”

Annie nodded.

“I think we might make a go of it.”

“I hope so.” However, Annie didn't discount her mother's feelings for Max. “Don't get overconfident, Dad,” she warned.

“I won't. All I want is a second chance.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I know I shouldn't be asking you this.”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Dad. Just ask me, okay?”

He didn't speak right away. “I know your mother got a phone call from Max the other night while we were at dinner,” he finally said.

“Everyone knew about that.”

“You went outside and talked to her.”

It wasn't one of Annie's smarter moves. “Yeah, I told her she was being rude, which she didn't appreciate.”

“Has…” He hesitated. “Has Max called again?” He frowned.
“Forget I asked that. I shouldn't put you in the middle. I apologize.”

“Dad!” She could so understand his wanting to know.

“I shouldn't have asked.”

“You're right.”

He exhaled slowly. “The problem is, I feel your mother and I are very close to patching things up, and yet I don't know exactly where I stand.”

“Because of Max.”

“You saw the two of them together—did you get a feel for what's going on between them?”

“Yeah, and, Dad, I don't want this to shake you or anything, but Max is hot.”

“Hot as in…sexy?”

“Yeah. He's the strong, silent type. The kind of man most women notice.”

“Oh.”

“Not to worry—you are, too. Well, sort of.”

He laughed. “Thanks. That's encouraging.”

“Oh, Dad, quit worrying. Mom will do what's best for her, and that's what we all want, right?” Of course, what
she
thought was best for her mom was her dad.

“Right,” he echoed. “I wish I knew what your mother was thinking, though.”

Annie did, too. That morning she'd caught her mother staring at her cell phone as though torn by indecision. She'd stared at it for so long that Annie was about to comment. Before she could say anything, Bethanne closed it abruptly, and dropped the cell inside her purse.

Leaning back, her father raked his hands through his hair. “No matter what happens, I'll always love her. I was an idiot.”

“We all are at one time or another.” Annie wanted to wrap her arms around her father. She wanted to reassure him that life was filled with mistakes and that the key was to learn from our errors in judgment.

That thought made her sit up straighter. She was willing to look past her father's mistakes but not Vance's. Maybe she was being unfair to him. Maybe she should give him a second chance.

“The thing is,” her father said, “if your mother decides we're finished, I don't know if I'll be able to love anyone else.”

“Oh, Daddy.” Hearing him say that made Annie want to weep. This was the kind of love she hoped to find one day. A forever kind of love.

“Also, before I forget, I wanted to thank you for telling me how much your mother admired that Civil War button. If there's anything else she likes, please pass the information along. I'm looking for ways to spoil her. I have six years to make up for.”

“Oh, Daddy, you can be so thoughtful.”

“Not always,” he muttered. “I want your mother to realize how much I love her.”

“If I think of anything else, I'll let you know.”

“Great. I appreciate it.”

He seemed in an optimistic mood and that pleased Annie. She glanced down at her computer. “Can I talk to you about something else?” she asked. “I could use your advice.”

“Sure, baby, anything.”

Annie flattened the paper napkin in her lap. “You remember Vance, don't you?”

“He's the guy you were dating.”

She nodded. “The one I thought was about to propose.”

“Oh, right.” He frowned as if he'd welcome the opportunity to give Vance a piece of his mind.

“But instead,” she went on, “he told me he was taking off for Europe. For a year.”

“That was a real disappointment, wasn't it, honey?”

The sympathy in his voice soothed her hurt feelings. “I was devastated,” she said. “I cried buckets.”

“He doesn't deserve you, Annie. No one treats my daughter like that and gets away with it.”

Annie loved the way her father rushed to her defense. “Vance is coming home at the end of August.”

“So this European adventure didn't work out the way he planned, huh?” Her father's eyes flashed with satisfaction, as if to say this was what Vance got for hurting Annie.

“Apparently, Europe wasn't what he expected.” She tried to hide the pleasure it gave her to tell him so. “Now he seems to think everything will go back to the way it was before he left.”

“You've got to be kidding!” His voice rang with righteous indignation.

“The problem is, I don't know how I feel about Vance anymore. I've gone out with a couple of other guys during this trip, but it isn't the same as being with him. He was more than my boyfriend. Vance was my best friend, too.” She sighed. “For a while I thought I missed him so much because I was just so used to being with him. I decided that wasn't a good enough reason to get back together. But now…”

“You'll get over him, honey. Vance needs to know he isn't the only bird in the flock.”

“I couldn't wait to tell him about Jason. He's the guy I met in Vegas. Jason was nice, and so is Craig. I talked to Mom about it and, well…”

“What did she say?”

It'd been a really helpful conversation. “We discussed me wanting Vance to be sorry for the way he treated me. Mom said—” Annie paused “—she said the real problem is that I wanted to make sure Vance understood that what he did was wrong. If he'd told me about this trip, it would've been different but to hide it from me and then expect me to be okay with it was too much.”

“I couldn't agree with your mother more. Like I said, Vance doesn't deserve you. You aren't really going back with him, are you?”

“That's just it. I…I don't know.”

“Don't, honey. If he's making plans behind your back now, that behavior isn't going to change.”

“What do you mean? Are you saying that even if he apologizes I shouldn't give him another chance?” Annie was surprised to find herself sticking up for Vance, but she felt compelled to be his champion.

“Annie, you're smarter than this.”

Annie stared at her dad.

“Once the pattern's set, nothing will change. Save yourself a lot of grief.”

She continued to stare.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“So I shouldn't forgive him?”

“No way.”

Annie blinked, more confused now than before. “But, Dad, you want Mom to forgive you.”

Her father's eyes narrowed slightly. “That's different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes! Listen, you can forgive Vance, if that's what you want. But can you trust him?”

Annie sucked in her breath. “Don't you think that's the same thing Mom's asking herself? Can she trust
you,
Dad?”

He blinked as though the question had caught him unawares. “Yes, she can. I've learned my lesson. I promise you before God and man that I will remain faithful to your mother. Never, ever again will I take her for granted.”

Annie hoped that was true. She believed him—she had to—and prayed her mother did, as well.