A Good Yarn (Blossom Street #2)(85)

As she walked out of the bank, she nearly collided with her ex-husband in the parking lot. Her face instantly went beet-red, as though Grant could read on her forehead the reason for her visit.

“Bethanne,” Grant said, taking her by the shoulders in order to steady her.

“Grant.” She wasn’t sure how to respond. “Hi…I was just—” She closed her mouth, refusing to embarrass herself. This wasn’t his concern.

“You’re looking good,” he said, stepping back to admire her.

The new hairstyle had been an extravagance she regretted. Annie and Courtney had talked her into it. The stylist had done wonders with her hair and suggested she color it. When Bethanne explained she couldn’t possibly afford that, the two girls had insisted they could do it.

They’d selected one of the more expensive brands—another ten bucks—in a deep brunette with auburn overtones. Considering that she’d put herself in the hands of teenagers, it’d turned out surprisingly well.

“Thanks,” Bethanne said casually.

“What are you doing here?” Grant asked.

As if that was any of his business. “Making a deposit. What about you?” He didn’t need to know the details, but at least she’d told him the truth.

“A withdrawal,” he said, and he didn’t sound too happy about it. “Switching money from savings to checking.”

“For little ol’ me?” she asked in her most saccharine drawl.

“Actually, no,” he said, frowning.

“Could it be that your new wife is straining your finances?” she asked, not hiding the gleam in her eyes.

Grant snickered. “You don’t know the half of it.”

He didn’t sound like he was joking, which should’ve pleased her, but Bethanne was bothered by the dark circles under his eyes. “Is everything okay with you, Grant?” she asked. His well-being no longer had anything to do with her, and yet she couldn’t prevent the automatic rush of concern.

“Would it make you happy if I said it wasn’t?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “As a matter of fact, I’m blissfully happy.”

Bethanne hadn’t realized what a poor liar he was and wondered why she hadn’t seen through him during the years he’d been having that affair. She supposed it was because she hadn’t wanted to know. “I’m sorry, Grant,” she said. She was sincere.

He shrugged in an offhand way.

It was ironic, really, that they’d have their first decent conversation in a parking lot months after their divorce.

“So how’s the relationship with the Boy Toy?” he asked. “Or is it the Toy Boy?”

“Do you mean Paul?” she said sharply. So much for decent. “It doesn’t bother us that I’m older, anymore than it bothers you that Tiffany’s fifteen years younger,” she said. “Besides, I can see anyone I choose. You didn’t want to be married to me, and Tiffany didn’t want to be with Paul. He and I have a lot in common.”

“You got the new hairstyle for him, didn’t you? Are you trying to look younger?”

“Not really.”

“Oh.”

“I’d better get back to the house,” she said, eager to leave. She thought of mentioning the Homecoming Dance at the end of the month but decided against it. Grant would learn soon enough that their son had been voted part of the Homecoming Court.

Grant nodded, hands in his pants pockets. “It was good to see you, Bethanne.” He offered her a slight smile. “I do mean that.”

“Thanks. It was good seeing you, too.”

Bethanne started toward her car, but stopped to look back. Grant was still standing in the same spot, staring after her.

She almost gave him a friendly wave. She didn’t wish her ex-husband ill. Okay, sometimes she did, but she’d also made real progress toward forgiveness this summer.

She hated being alone, but in reality nothing had changed. Grant might’ve been living at the house two years ago and sharing her bed, but he’d been emotionally involved with another woman. And that meant he hadn’t been fully committed to his family—as he’d proven since.

Yes, her financial situation was uncomfortable, but she was a fast learner. Yes, she was bound to make mistakes, but she had a new life and a good friend in Paul. She was close to her children.

The odd man out was Grant, who seemed to have some regrets. He’d hinted at it, then claimed, rather unconvincingly, that he was happy. She doubted he’d tell her the truth.

CHAPTER 37

COURTNEY PULANSKI

Courtney hadn’t heard from her father in a week. She was growing frightened; that just wasn’t like him. He might go a day or two without e-mailing her, but never a week. While Ralph Pulanski, Jr. had been silent, the e-mails had flown between Courtney, her sister and their older brother. They were as worried as she was. The three of them clung to each other.

Courtney hid her fears from her grandmother as much as she could. Grams was doing a lot of knitting these days—to comfort herself, Courtney figured. Mostly she and Grams said reassuring things to each other, like “I’m sure he’s fine,” and “Maybe his computer broke down.”

Jason had tried to reach their father through the construction company that employed him, but he’d learned nothing concrete. According to the executive Jason had talked to, the area was known to be secure and there was no reason for alarm. The company would try to get in touch with him; that was as much as they’d promise at this point.