A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)(49)

“I keep trying to tell Mom that,” Annie insisted.

“Did this ex-husband of yours drink too much?” she asked.

“No,” Bethanne said.

“He didn’t slap you around, did he?”

“No!”

“Chase skirts?”

“Just the once.” It was Annie who answered. “And that was a big mistake.”

“It always is,” the waitress said. “Half the time men’s brains are located below their belt buckles. Eventually they come to their senses but by then it’s usually too late.”

“Eunice.” The cook stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Are you fraternizing with the customers again?”

Eunice rolled her eyes. “If I don’t watch myself I’m going to lose this job.” She hurried toward the kitchen and put their order on a hanging circular device for the cook to grab.

“What a sweetheart,” Ruth murmured.

“Wise, too,” Annie said pointedly.

“I can tell Eunice has been around the block a couple of times and found her way home,” Ruth said. “I’m leaving her an extra-big tip.”

Bethanne felt embarrassed about having her personal situation aired in front of a stranger, no matter how sympathetic, and furious at her daughter and mother-in-law. And yet… She’d begun to think they were right. Regardless of her infatuation with Max, she felt she had to give her ex-husband an honest chance. She had to give their relationship an honest chance, and she couldn’t do that with Max hovering in the background.

Five minutes later, Eunice returned with their breakfast order. Lost in her thoughts, Bethanne sipped her latte. Thankfully, neither Annie nor Ruth appeared to notice how distracted she was.

When she saw Max the night before last, she’d told him she’d call after the wedding. But it wouldn’t be fair to keep him waiting and guessing. The only decent thing to do was call him now and explain that she wouldn’t be contacting him in the future.

Bethanne slid out of her booth and headed for the door.

“Mom?” her daughter asked. “Where are you going?”

“I need to make a phone call” was all she was willing to tell either Annie or Ruth.

Standing in the parking lot, Bethanne took out her cell phone. Max had programmed in his number and she hit speed dial, knowing she was about to do something irrevocable. She felt regretful, but relieved, too. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the rental car and silently prayed he’d answer.

He picked up on the third ring, but at the sound of his voice, she suddenly couldn’t speak.

“Hello,” he said again.

After a long moment, his voice softened. “Is that you, Bethanne?”

“Yes.”

He waited for her to continue.

“I won’t be calling you.” Then, because she owed him an explanation, she rushed to say, “I’m truly sorry, but I’ve made my decision.”

Her announcement was met with stark silence.

“Did you hear me?” she asked.

“I heard you.” Silence again.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” she demanded.

“You’re going back to Grant?”

“Yes…”

“Your final decision?”

“Yes…” It was her final decision—to give a new relationship with her ex-husband every opportunity to succeed. That didn’t guarantee success, of course, but she could only go into this with an open heart. Without reservations. She couldn’t have one eye on the exit as she and Grant tried out their new roles.

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I am completely convinced that this is the right thing to do.”

“Then why did you call me now?”

“I didn’t want you waiting to hear from me.”

“Did you assume I was waiting?”

“You were, weren’t you?” That was the way she remembered their discussion when they’d parted in Vegas.

“What happened? You only left Vegas two days ago.”

“Grant phoned and he’s coming to Florida and…and I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s causing all kinds of problems.” She hadn’t intended to admit all that, but it slipped out. “To top everything, we went for breakfast and instead of ordering scrambled eggs, I ordered you.” She could sense his smile. “This isn’t funny, Max.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you, too. Kate would’ve liked you.”

“I can’t do this, Max. I mean it.”

“I know.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“No.”

He didn’t even bother to pretend otherwise, which frustrated her. “You won’t be hearing from me again,” she said, trying to sound firm.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

She felt like stamping her foot. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“Are you really going back to your ex-husband?”

She didn’t respond for a moment. Then she said in a low voice, “I don’t know yet.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“He loves me,” she insisted.