Part 39 (2/2)
”Oh.” Grant looked somewhat taken aback. ”I thought you two were about to discuss the menu. How do you know if you want white wine or red? Actually, it might be a good idea to order a case of each.”
”Like Mom said,” Andrew told him. ”We've got that covered.”
”It isn't that we don't value your input,” Bethanne was quick to add, wanting to avoid a disagreement.
”What kind is it? Sauvignon blanc? Merlot for the red? That's what I'd recommend.”
Bethanne looked to her son for help.
”I'm not sure yet, but I know it's going to be the best wine available,” Andrew said. ”Along with the wine, the same person's giving us three cases of champagne for the reception.”
”Someone's giving giving you wine and champagne?” you wine and champagne?”
Bethanne nodded.
”Really?” Grant's eyebrows rose slightly. ”That's no small expense. Who's being so generous?” He rested his hands on the counter behind him. ”Is it one of my clients?”
Since he obviously wasn't letting this go, Bethanne left it to her son to explain.
”It's Max Scranton,” Andrew said after a brief hesitation.
”Who?” Grant asked, and then comprehension came into his eyes. ”Max? That biker? You've got to be kidding!”
”Max owns a wine distribution company,” Andrew informed his father.
”His brother's a partner,” Bethanne corrected.
”True,” Andrew said with a shrug, ”but Max owns the larger part of the business.”
This was news to Bethanne. Max and Andrew's conversation had obviously been longer than her son had implied.
”You aren't going to accept it, are you?” Grant frowned at Andrew, then Bethanne. ”How do you think that would look?” he asked. ”The two of us are working on a reconciliation and another man gives our son all the wine for the wedding. This has the potential to be embarra.s.sing. What are you going to tell people?” He seemed to expect Bethanne to second his objection.
”I wasn't going to tell anyone anything,” Bethanne said. ”It's no one's business.”
”Son,” Grant said, looking at Andrew, ”are you really really going to accept this?” going to accept this?”
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 Was.h.i.+ngton 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. 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.” 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 fl.u.s.tered-”
”I most certainly do not.”
”There,” he said, pointing his finger at her. ”You're doing it now.”
Embarra.s.sed, 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 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. 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.”
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