“What does that mean?” Bethanne asked, twisting around in her seat.
Ruth wouldn’t look at her. “It means,” she said, glancing at Annie, “that Bethanne wants to have an affair with this biker before she takes your father back. It’s tit for tat.”
“Ruth!” Bethanne could hardly believe she’d said that. “How can you even suggest such a thing?” After all these years she’d assumed her mother-in-law knew her better. “If it’ll help either of you, I’ll let you know that Max and I have done nothing more than kiss.” She instantly regretted telling them even that much.
“Mom,” Annie said in the same voice she’d used as a little girl when she wanted something important. “I promise I won’t bring up Max’s name again if you’ll do just one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Give Dad a chance. It isn’t fair when Dad’s in Seattle.”
What do you think I’m doing? she wanted to shout. This is all about giving him a chance.
“It isn’t like Max is trailing behind our car on his motorcycle,” she said tartly.
“Just don’t do anything foolish, okay?”
“I’m not a foolish woman,” she told her daughter.
“I didn’t used to think so,” Ruth muttered under her breath but loudly enough for Bethanne to hear.
“I am not a foolish woman,” Bethanne repeated, and then suddenly realized her purse wasn’t within sight. “Did either of you pick up my purse?”
“I didn’t,” Annie said.
“Why would I take your purse?” Ruth asked.
Oh, my goodness. Bethanne remembered that she’d left her purse in the restroom at the Albuquerque diner. “Annie,” she said, trying not to panic. “I left my purse at the restaurant.” She’d been upset and walked off without it.
“Mom, we’re on a freeway! I can’t just turn around. I have to wait for the next exit.”
Ruth leaned forward. “Now, what were you saying about not being a foolish woman?”
Sixteen
“I’ve always wanted to see the Alamo,” Annie said once they were back on the road after collecting Bethanne’s purse. Her forgetfulness had cost them over an hour.
“I have a reservation in Branson for tomorrow night,” Ruth said. “Remember what happened the last time we went off course?”
“Oh, come on, Grandma, Vegas was fun.”
“More fun for some than others,” Ruth said sharply.
Bethanne was getting used to the verbal darts and disregarded the comment.
“Personally, I’m looking forward to Branson,” Ruth continued. “My friends tell me Andy Williams gives a terrific performance.”
Annie glanced over at Bethanne. “Just who is this Andy Williams?”
“My goodness, Annie, he’s one of the best singers ever,” Ruth said enthusiastically. “Well, in my opinion, anyway. He’s like Perry Como, Frank Sinatra and Steve Lawrence all rolled into one.”
“I’ve never heard of Perry or Steve, either, Grandma. Were they part of a group?”
“Heavens, no! Bethanne, this girl needs a musical education.”
Bethanne laughed, glad that good humor had been restored.
“Does this mean we’re going to bypass the Alamo?” Annie asked, sounding disappointed.
“It does,” Ruth said. “The next time your mother drives, I want you to get on that phone of yours and buy the three of us tickets for Andy Williams. This is something I don’t want you girls to miss.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Annie murmured, but she didn’t sound happy about it.
Bethanne took over driving just outside Texas. Studying the map, she saw that their little venture to Las Vegas had taken them even farther off course than she’d realized. Fortunately, Branson was in the southern part of Missouri.
Once Bethanne was behind the wheel, both Ruth and Annie took naps. She welcomed the silence because it gave her a chance to think. Each day on the road, she’d chatted with Julia Hayden about the business and received an update. The company hardly needed her anymore; Julia was efficient and had good judgment.
She regretted the phone call to Max earlier that morning. At the time she’d been serious—clearing her mind of him was the only sensible option. What she’d told him was true. She couldn’t make a decision about Grant if all she could think about was Max. The best thing was to sever the tie quickly. Yet the moment she’d heard Max’s voice, Bethanne knew she couldn’t do it, couldn’t walk away as if he was nothing more than a Vegas fling.
Maybe she just needed to get him out of her system. Really, what could possibly come of a relationship with someone like Max? It wasn’t as if she could climb on the back of his Harley and travel across the country without a care in the world. Bethanne had responsibilities, a thriving company. Max had taken a sabbatical from his wine distribution company but he’d been away for three years. He hadn’t said when he planned to return, if ever.
He rode from one end of the country to the other with no destination, stopping here or there on a whim. What kind of life was that? He’d lost his wife and daughter. That was hard, grief was hard, but it’d been three years and he gave no indication that he was ever going to relinquish this lifestyle. The thought of any long-term relationship with Max was irrational. Out of the question.
If Max was a tumbleweed, drifting with the wind, Grant was like a rock. Solid. Hardworking. A family man. Even if he’d stumbled badly when he married Tiffany. For a short time, his world had revolved around the young woman and he’d turned a blind eye to everything he’d once considered a priority, including his own children.