A Turn in the Road Part 15

"I am, too. A wonderful time," Bethanne a.s.sured her and, truthfully, she was.

"What will you do?" Ruth asked.

"Well, that Texas oilman and I have struck up a friendly relationship. I think I'll go visit that slot machine again and see if he's willing to hand over any more of those oil residuals."

Her plans for the afternoon seemed to appease Ruth. Bethanne walked her mother-in-law back to the Hard Rock casino and sent her off to find the Wheel of Fortune Wheel of Fortune slot machines. Then she strolled around until she came across the Texas Tea slots. Yesterday's machine was available and she grabbed it. Once seated and comfortable, she opened her purse to take out her wallet. She wouldn't have heard her cell phone if not for the fact that her purse was open. Automatically she pulled it out. She didn't recognize the number. slot machines. Then she strolled around until she came across the Texas Tea slots. Yesterday's machine was available and she grabbed it. Once seated and comfortable, she opened her purse to take out her wallet. She wouldn't have heard her cell phone if not for the fact that her purse was open. Automatically she pulled it out. She didn't recognize the number.

"h.e.l.lo," she said breathlessly.

"Why did you give your business card to Rooster?"

"Max?"

"I'm asking why you gave Rooster your cell phone number," he repeated.

"I don't know," she murmured, shocked to hear from him and equally pleased. Last night she'd reviewed their conversation over and over, and each time she'd felt a sense of loss. She needed to consider her relationship with Grant, but that didn't mean she had to shut herself off from a new one, did it? Well, yes, it did if she and Grant were going to reconcile. She'd finally fallen into a troubled sleep and woke with no clear understanding of what her ultimate decision would be. What it should should be. be.

"Yes, you do."

He was right; she did know why she'd done it. Even as she handed Rooster the business card with that vague comment about how Max should call when he was "ready," she knew. "I wanted to see you again."

"Where are you?"

"Same casino. Same machine."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

Bethanne's hand trembled as she dropped her phone back inside her purse. She told herself she should get up and walk away that very minute. But she couldn't do it.

Max seemed to recognize her indecision the moment he approached her. She started to talk, but he stopped her by pressing his finger against her lips. Taking her by the shoulders, he smiled down at her. "Haven't you heard that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?"

She nodded.

"I respect what you told me. I appreciate that you've got a weighty decision to make. All I ask is that you give me today. I won't ask for anything more. Can you agree to that?"

Again she nodded.

He smiled and slipped his arms around her, and they hugged.

His embrace felt warm and familiar as if this was where she belonged. Wasn't that what he'd said-that she belonged in his arms? It was exactly how she felt, too. Why, oh, why did he he have to be the one who made her heart flutter? Why, oh, why did it have to be have to be the one who made her heart flutter? Why, oh, why did it have to be now? now? If she was confused and uncertain when it came to Grant, meeting Max only complicated that situation. If she was confused and uncertain when it came to Grant, meeting Max only complicated that situation.

"I could hold you like this all day," he whispered into her hair.

She wanted that, too. Maybe, she mused, she was using Max as a distraction to avoid thinking about Grant.

"I have no intention of wasting what's left of today," Max said, clasping her hand. "Let's get out of here."

"Okay."

When they went outside, the summer sun beat down on them. The heat hadn't reached its zenith and wouldn't for several hours, but the sun shone with a brilliant intensity. Bethanne put on her sungla.s.ses as they walked. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"A place I know not far from here."

It turned out to be an ice cream shop a couple of blocks off the Strip. Bethanne slid into the booth and Max took the seat across from her. He ordered a vanilla ice cream soda, while Bethanne had coffee.

They talked for four hours straight. Four hours. The conversation drifted naturally from one subject to another. They discussed music, politics, books and friends. She learned he was in the wine distribution business. That was the reason Rooster had commented on her preference for wine over beer. Rooster owned an advertising agency and had worked with Max on his company's account.

He asked her plenty of questions, too. He wanted to know about her children and she described Andrew and Annie with pride. In fact, they talked about everything-except Grant or Kate or his daughter. It was as though the subject of the people they'd once loved was strictly taboo.

About halfway through their conversation, Ruth phoned to say she was feeling a bit under the weather. Too much sun, too much food and her dismay that Vanna was a lot greedier than she'd expected. Bethanne was concerned, but Ruth claimed she'd feel better if she didn't interrupt Bethanne's fun with her Texas oilman. Bethanne didn't enlighten her mother-in-law about where she really was or who she was with.

"Tell me more about your business," Max said after she'd put away her cell. He held her card in his hand and turned it over two or three times as if there was some invisible message scrawled across the back.

"I never dreamed Parties would be as successful as it is. All I set out to do was make enough money to take care of my children and keep our home. The shock was how timely this idea turned out to be." She smiled. "There was an article about me in the Wall Street Journal Wall Street Journal when we added birthday parties for cats and dogs." when we added birthday parties for cats and dogs."

"You're joking, right? Parties for dogs?"

"Cats, too, and the idea's really caught on. Baby boomers love their pets and are willing to spend hundreds of dollars to throw them birthday parties."

"That I don't understand."

"You don't need to, but trust me, it's big business. I've had offers to franchise, but it doesn't feel right. Not yet. The problem with so many companies is that they expand too quickly. I don't want to do that. Once the five stores are all operating at a comfortable profit margin, I'll look into it again, but for the moment, I'm content."

"It sounds as if you have a good head for business."

"I like to think so." She didn't mention that most of what she'd learned had been gleaned from her years with Grant. She'd often remained in the background, but she'd absorbed a lot of business strategy and financial wisdom.

"So the divorce is actually responsible for your starting up the business?"

She nodded. "I had help." She told him the story of the knitting cla.s.s she'd joined and the friends she'd made, including Elise Beaumont. "Elise's husband, Maverick, was a professional gambler-and he took a gamble on me."

"One that paid off."

"Yes, thankfully. So you're right. Grant was indirectly responsible for my decision to start this business."

"And now he wants to get back together with you?"

She cradled her mug with both hands and looked down into the cooling coffee. "He does, and I'm having a hard time deciding. I was with him for twenty years. We have a long, shared history, two children and a lot of happy memories. He realized he made a mistake and will do anything he can to rectify it.... I just don't know if it's possible to go back. I've changed and so has he."

"Have you forgiven him?"

"I hope so." She paused, then resumed, speaking slowly. "About a year after the divorce I woke up feeling miserable and depressed. Annie had let it slip that Grant and Tiffany were in Paris. Paris. I'd longed to visit Paris, and Grant knew that.

"All I could think about was how unfair it was that I should be alone, while Grant and Tiffany were off having the time of their lives. I buried my face in the pillow and just sobbed." The memory of her grief and her tears that bleak morning was fresh in her mind even now. "I realized then that I had to forgive him."

"What made you decide right then then that you had to forgive him? And how did you manage it?" that you had to forgive him? And how did you manage it?"

"At first, I thought it would be impossible. I thought no one could forgive what Grant had done to me and our children. But then..." She bit her lip.

Max reached for her hand, gripping her fingers hard, silently encouraging her to continue.

"Then I understood that unless I freed my heart of the bitterness and resentment I felt toward Grant, I'd be incapable of ever loving again. I had to unclench my fist of anger in order to fill my palm with happiness, with joy...with love."

"And you've done that?"

"Max," she whispered, unsure how to respond. "I've done my best but I've discovered forgiveness is a lot harder than it looks. Just when I think I'm completely over what he did, something will happen that shows me how far I still have to go."

"Like what?"

"I told you he was upset with me because I took a risk and rode off with you. That angered me and I let him know it. Later, I felt bad because all Grant was really doing was telling me he was concerned about me and that he loves me. I was shocked by how quickly those old resentments returned."

Max circled the straw around his empty soda gla.s.s. "How's Grant's relationship with his children?"

"Better." Bethanne carefully chose the appropriate word. "Andrew's had a hard time trusting his father. When we were first divorced, Annie acted out her anger but eventually she calmed down and now they're as close as they used to be. I'm pretty sure he's keeping tabs on me during this trip through Annie." In other words, Grant had more than likely heard an earful about Max already.

"No doubt," he mumbled.

"Andrew's wedding complicates matters even more," she said. "Grant wants us to stand together, united as a family, as we celebrate our son's marriage. In theory it sounds like a good idea."

"And you'd like that, too?"

"Yes, I suppose I would. Grant and I love our son and we adore Courtney. But..."

"But?"

She was astonished by how easily she could voice her feelings to him. "Grant and me together sends a message to our family and friends that isn't accurate. We aren't a couple and haven't been for six years."

Bethanne was grateful that Max didn't share his opinions or offer advice. His willingness to remain silent told her that he trusted her judgment and her ability to make difficult choices. To make the decisions that were best for her and her children.

As the afternoon progressed, she saw that the ice cream parlor had started to fill up. Max looked around and noticed it, too. They were taking up s.p.a.ces paying customers could use.

"Can I take you to dinner tonight?" he asked.

"Ice cream? Dinner? Apparently, what happens in Vegas is really pretty tame." She smiled as she said it.

Max smiled, too. "The night isn't over yet."

They set a time and place to meet, and Bethanne went up to her room to change clothes and check on Ruth. Her mother-in-law sat on the bed, leaning against some pillows she'd stacked behind her, feet crossed at the ankles. She was knitting and watching television.

She looked up when Bethanne walked into their room. "I called Jane in Florida," she said, blushing a little. "I used the hotel phone, which probably cost me more than I lost at the slots, but I wanted my friends to know where we were. Jane asked how soon we'd be in Florida." She beamed with pleasure over the phone call.

"What did you tell her?"

Ruth's grin seemed to brighten her entire face. "I told her we have a long way to drive, but we'll get there. Jane said that since we're in the area, it would be a shame not to see the Grand Canyon. We should go, don't you think?"

"We really should," Bethanne agreed. She opened her suitcase and unpacked the only dress she'd brought. "Have you heard from Annie?"

"Not a peep."

Bethanne nodded and called her daughter's cell. Annie explained that she and Jason had tickets for a show that evening; she was definitely amenable to visiting the Grand Canyon. "Might as well," she said cheerfully. "Bye, Mom!"

Bethanne shook out her dress and hung it in the closet. While her back was to Ruth, she said, "Max invited me to dinner. Will you be all right by yourself?"

"You're going out?" Ruth sounded surprised. "With that biker?"

"It's Vegas." Bethanne shrugged, but she did feel guilty about deserting her mother-in-law.

Ruth frowned. "Are you sure that's wise?"

"I'll be fine, although I hate the thought of you spending all your time in the room. You should go out, explore the town, enjoy yourself." She took her dress into the bathroom to change into and set out a pair of strappy heels to wear.

Ruth didn't seem keen on the idea of going out on her own. "I suppose I could find something to do," she muttered when Bethanne reappeared. "But I wonder whether you should be having dinner with another man..." She left the rest unsaid.

"Ruth, don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

Ruth glowered. "I hope you haven't taken leave of your senses."

Despite her effort not to, Bethanne laughed. She wasn't going to argue with Ruth, wasn't even going to point out that this was her her business. "I won't be late," she said as she breezed out of the room. One day was all Max had asked of her and she couldn't refuse him-or herself. business. "I won't be late," she said as she breezed out of the room. One day was all Max had asked of her and she couldn't refuse him-or herself.

Max met her in the lobby and did a double-take when he saw her. He'd changed, too, and wore slacks and a crisp cotton shirt, one she suspected from the crease marks was brand-new. It occurred to Bethanne that it hadn't been practical to wear a dress if he planned on taking his bike. Rooster was with him and straightened when he saw her.

"Wow, you clean up nice," the older man said.

"Thanks." She ran her hand down the front of her pale pink sheath.

"What's Ruth up to tonight?" he asked.

"She's threatening to order room service." Bethanne rolled her eyes at that. Ruth could pitch guilt with the best of them, but Bethanne refused to cancel her evening with Max.

Both men chuckled and Rooster sauntered over to the elevators. "Shall we?" Max said, offering her his arm. Once they were outside the hotel, the doorman got them a taxi. The restaurant Max took her to turned out to be a high-end steak house. Everything was delicious, from her salad to the rich dessert they shared. Max selected the wine, a rich cabernet sauvignon from France, and they discussed various Old and New World wines.

Max paid the bill, and when they left, he waved down a taxi. He gave the driver an address, and Bethanne asked, "Where are we going?" as he held her door.

He smiled, eyebrows raised. "To a biker bar."

"Oh." She'd feel terribly out of place.

"Don't worry," he said as he got in beside her. "It isn't what you think."

A few minutes later, they arrived at what appeared to be a honky-tonk tavern, where the band was loud and the crowd boisterous. Max found them a table in a shadowy corner and ordered drinks-pints of beer from a microbrewery she'd never heard of. Several couples were dancing, and before the waitress returned, Max led Bethanne onto the floor.

They danced until they were breathless. The live music was energetic, the atmosphere festive. Several men cast her questioning looks but she doubted their curiosity was due to her or the way she'd dressed. The men seemed surprised to see Max with a woman, which made Bethanne feel even more special.

When she was convinced she couldn't dance another step, they went back to the table and collapsed into their chairs. Bethanne hadn't spent that much time on the dance floor in years. Max dragged his chair next to hers and picked up his beer mug, draining half of it. Then he set the mug aside, slipped his hand around her shoulder and drew her mouth to his.