A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)
Debbie Macomber
One
“I think Dad wants to get back together.” Bethanne’s daughter, Annie, spoke with studied nonchalance. “He still loves you, Mom.”
Bethanne’s spoon hovered over her bowl of soup as they sat at a window table in their favorite café. This wasn’t actually news and shouldn’t have come as any surprise. Didn’t come as any surprise. She’d seen the signs, as recently as this morning. These days Grant was inventing excuses to call her.
Six years ago her world had imploded when her husband confessed that he’d fallen in love with another woman. With barely a backward glance, Grant had walked out—out of their home, their marriage, their lives. And now he wanted back in.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Annie asked, toying with her fork. She watched her mother intently.
“Not really.” She swallowed the soup and lowered her spoon for another taste.
Annie, it seemed, had forgotten. But not Bethanne.
The morning Grant told her he wanted a divorce would stay in her mind forever. He couldn’t seem to get away from her fast enough. He’d retained a lawyer and advised her to do the same, then coldly informed her that all future communication would be through their lawyers. The less contact with her and their children, the better, he’d said. A clean break was best.
Grant’s decision had struck Bethanne with the force and unpredictability of a hurricane. She’d stumbled blindly through the next few months, trying to hold her family together, clinging to the semblance of normality while her world disintegrated around her. “You really don’t have anything to say?” Annie prodded.
“No,” Bethanne said shortly. She swallowed another spoonful of soup and reached for the herb scone. “What disturbs me is that your father would let you do his talking for him.”
Annie had the grace to look chastened, but she pushed her food away as if she’d suddenly lost her appetite.
At one time Bethanne had dreamed Grant would regret what he’d done, that he’d seek her forgiveness and come crawling back to her. She’d wanted him to suffer for the way he’d treated her, for the hurt he’d inflicted when he’d turned his back on their children.
But in the years since the divorce, Bethanne had gradually found her footing and, in the process, discovered a self she didn’t know existed—a stronger, independent Bethanne, a woman forged in the fire of despair. Now her two children were on their own; her oldest, Andrew, was engaged to be married in a few weeks, following his graduation from law school. As for her daughter, Annie was a year from obtaining her MBA. She worked part-time with Bethanne on the creative end of the party business Bethanne had established in the wake of her divorce.
During her twenty years of marriage, Bethanne had become known for her lavish and inventive parties. She’d taken pride in making Grant look good by hosting unforgettable events for clients and potential clients—an invitation to Grant’s home became a sought-after privilege in certain circles. Her birthday parties for Andrew and Annie were legendary. But never once had she dreamed that her party-giving skills would eventually be parlayed into such a success.
She’d started the business, which she called simply Parties, as a way of making enough money to continue living in their family home, although she’d had to take out a substantial second mortgage to get Parties off the ground. Grant had paid the required support, but depending on that would’ve meant moving to a smaller house in a different neighborhood. If ever her children needed stability, she knew, it was in the period after the divorce. She’d since paid off both mortgages.
To Bethanne’s astonishment, the business had taken off immediately. She’d started small, with themed birthday parties for children. The Alice in Wonderland Tea Party had been the most popular of the dozens of concepts she’d created. With busy schedules, parents were looking for an easy, economical way to make birthday parties special. Bethanne’s company had filled that need.
Currently, there were five Parties stores in the Seattle area, including the original location, and she was considerating a deal that offered national franchising opportunities. The key was to keep the ideas fresh and the prices reasonable. This past winter she’d added a “birthday party in a box”—more scaled-down, do-it-yourself versions of her trademarked theme parties.
A year earlier Bethanne had hired Julia Hayden as her corporate operations manager. Julia was efficient, dedicated and gifted. She loved the job and had begun overseeing the company’s day-today activities, freeing Bethanne to focus on creative development. Annie worked with her, and the two of them had recently developed birthday party ideas for cats and dogs, which was now a popular trend, especially among childless, affluent professionals. They’d expanded into other types of parties, too—anniversary and retirement celebrations, Christmas and even Halloween events.
Bethanne signaled for the check, and they went their separate ways with a quick hug and a wave. Annie was walking back to the office, while Bethanne headed for Blossom Street and A Good Yarn. Knitting had become one of her favourite activities. When she needed to think, nothing helped more than sitting down with a knitting project. She felt a sense of happy anticipation as she parked in front of the yarn store, which was owned by her dear friend Lydia Goetz.
With the wedding only six weeks away, she’d wanted to knit something for Courtney, her almost-daughter-in-law, to wear during the wedding.