A Turn in the Road
Page 50

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.
Thirty-Five
Grant 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.