Part 19 (2/2)
Spending two nights in Branson, MO.
She hesitated before she pushed the send b.u.t.ton, but sent it, anyway.
What was she doing? She felt like a first-time shoplifter certain to be caught. Regardless of all her a.s.sertions that what she did was her own business, she didn't want Ruth or Annie to know. She felt like a first-time shoplifter certain to be caught. Regardless of all her a.s.sertions that what she did was her own business, she didn't want Ruth or Annie to know.
”You okay?” Annie asked.
”Sure. Why wouldn't I be?” Bethanne realized that, once again, she must look guilty. Why else would Annie question her? In fact, she felt felt guilty. She'd resolved to reconcile with Grant, or at least try, and yet she'd impulsively contacted Max.... guilty. She'd resolved to reconcile with Grant, or at least try, and yet she'd impulsively contacted Max....
”Mom!” Annie nudged her. ”Your ice cream's melting all over your hand.”
”Oh.” She looked down to discover that Annie was right. In the warm sun the soft-serve ice cream had melted and dripped down her wrist.
”Here.” Ruth pa.s.sed her a wad of napkins.
Bethanne licked away at the cone but soon realized it was a lost cause and tossed the entire mess into a nearby garbage can.
Back on the road with Ruth driving, Bethanne fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing her legs. She stared out the window and chewed on her fingertip. Even knitting didn't help.
”What's wrong with you?” Annie demanded.
”Why should anything be wrong?”
”How would I know?”
It wasn't until they stopped for the night that Bethanne had a chance to look for Max's reply, if there was one. Her eyes widened when she saw it. She held her breath. His response was simple:
I'll meet you there.
Snapping the cell phone closed, she held it against herself only to find both Ruth and Annie studying her curiously. She exhaled and carefully set her phone aside.
Annie leaped off the bed, stalked over to the dresser and grabbed Bethanne's cell. She opened it and frowned at the screen. ”Mother!”
”What did she do now?” Ruth asked.
”She's meeting Max in Branson.”
”Now listen,” Bethanne said. ”First of all, Annie, what you've done is rude and it's an invasion of my privacy. Secondly, I make my own decisions and I'm telling you right now, the more you pressure me into going back to Grant the more attractive Max looks. Unless I figure out how I feel about Max, I'll never be happy with Grant.”
Ruth shrugged and got her book from her economy-size purse. ”What you decide is up to you. You're over twenty-one.”
”Way over.” Annie threw herself down on the bed.
”Thank you.” Bethanne felt better for having spoken her mind, although she could have done without Annie's comment.
Her daughter plugged in the earbuds to her iPod and lay back, eyes closed.
Bethanne took a long, hot shower, crawled into bed beside Annie and opened her book. She read late. Both Annie and Ruth were asleep by the time she turned off her light.
Although it was past midnight and they had every intention of getting an early start in the morning, Bethanne couldn't sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was Max. Not Grant. Max.
He planned to meet her in Branson. She didn't know where he was when he got her message. Apparently, close enough to Missouri to get to Branson by the following afternoon. She wondered if Rooster was traveling with him. She didn't like the thought of him on the road alone, although she understood that was often the case.
The next day when they arrived in Branson, the traffic was worse than Manhattan at rush hour. It took them forty-five minutes just to reach the hotel. Once they were in their room and unpacked, they went downstairs and ate a quick lunch in the hotel's coffee shop.
Ruth paid the tab and went to collect the show tickets Annie had ordered for her. While she was away from the table, Bethanne's cell phone rang. In her eagerness to answer, she dropped her purse and scrambled to retrieve it.
”Is that Max?” Annie asked.
”I don't know yet,” she said as she bent down to get her cell from her bag. Caller ID revealed Grant's name. She pushed the b.u.t.ton that would send him directly to voice mail. ”It's your father.”
”Why didn't you talk to him?”
”I will when I'm ready.”
”You'd rather speak to Max? Max?” Annie sounded like a hurt little girl.
Bethanne put the cell beside her on the table. ”Annie, please try to understand. I don't know what I find so attractive about Max. I wish I did. I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you and your grandmother, but I need to do this.”
”All right, Mom, have your fun. Dad and I will be waiting for you.”
The call from Max came fifteen minutes later. She and Annie were just finis.h.i.+ng their coffee.
”Hi,” she said, keenly aware that Annie was listening.
”Hi. Where are you?”
She gave him the name of the hotel. ”I'm not the most popular person at the moment.”
”So you told Grandma and Annie I was meeting you?”
”I did,” she admitted.
”I thought you didn't want to see me again,” he commented, obviously amused.
”A sensitive man wouldn't remind me of that.”
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