A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)(53)

The next day when they arrived in Branson, the traffic was worse than Manhattan at rush hour. It took them forty-five minutes just to reach the hotel. Once they were in their room and unpacked, they went downstairs and ate a quick lunch in the hotel’s coffee shop.

Ruth paid the tab and went to collect the show tickets Annie had ordered for her. While she was away from the table, Bethanne’s cell phone rang. In her eagerness to answer, she dropped her purse and scrambled to retrieve it.

“Is that Max?” Annie asked.

“I don’t know yet,” she said as she bent down to get her cell from her bag. Caller ID revealed Grant’s name. She pushed the button that would send him directly to voice mail. “It’s your father.”

“Why didn’t you talk to him?”

“I will when I’m ready.”

“You’d rather speak to Max?” Annie sounded like a hurt little girl.

Bethanne put the cell beside her on the table. “Annie, please try to understand. I don’t know what I find so attractive about Max. I wish I did. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you and your grandmother, but I need to do this.”

“All right, Mom, have your fun. Dad and I will be waiting for you.”

The call from Max came fifteen minutes later. She and Annie were just finishing their coffee.

“Hi,” she said, keenly aware that Annie was listening.

“Hi. Where are you?”

She gave him the name of the hotel. “I’m not the most popular person at the moment.”

“So you told Grandma and Annie I was meeting you?”

“I did,” she admitted.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he commented, obviously amused.

“A sensitive man wouldn’t remind me of that.”

“I guess that tells you all you need to know about me.”

Bethanne grinned but her smile faded when she saw Annie scowling at her.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour,” Max said.

“I’ll be there.” She closed her phone and then looked at her daughter. “Are you coming?”

“Where are you going?” Annie asked, following Bethanne out of the hotel.

“Shopping.”

“For what?” Annie asked, hurrying to keep up with her. “And shouldn’t we invite Grandma?”

“Sure. Give her a call.”

Bethanne was on a mission. She had an hour to deck herself out in jeans, boots and a Western shirt. If she was going to be in Branson, she intended to look like she belonged here.

With Bethanne and Annie shopping, Ruth stayed in their hotel room alone. She’d made her excuses and was grateful for this time by herself. She sat on the bed and fingered the paper Annie had given her. The paper on which her granddaughter had written down Royce’s phone number. She hadn’t decided what to do.

Thankfully, neither Bethanne nor Annie had pressured her about contacting him, although both seemed to think she should. Bethanne had said something that made a lot of sense. If she called Royce now, she wouldn’t have that confrontation awaiting her when she arrived and she’d be able to enjoy the rest of the trip.

Every mile that brought her closer to Florida, closer to Royce, increased her anxiety.

She needed to do this—and she didn’t want Bethanne and Annie hearing her conversation. Although she sort of wished someone was with her now to hold her hand, to encourage her and to offer comfort if it went badly. This was really difficult, so much more difficult than she’d ever expected.

She took the hotel phone from the nightstand next to the bed, stretching the cord so she could set it beside her. She smoothed out the slip of paper, running her hand over it two or three times. Finally, she reached for the receiver, following the instructions in order to place a long-distance call.

A minute after that, the phone rang at the other end.

It rang again as she held her breath. Again.

Then Royce answered. “Hello.”

Despite all the years since they’d spoken, she recognized his voice.

She couldn’t speak.

“Hello?” he repeated.

“Royce?” Somehow she managed to whisper his name.

“Yes? Who is this?”

His own voice fell, and Ruth was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

“It’s Ruth.” The silence was terrible. “I heard you planned to attend the class reunion,” she said.

“Yes.”

“I…I thought it was only fair that you know I’ll be there, too. Actually, my daughter-in-law and granddaughter felt I should warn you.” At first, she couldn’t utter a word, and now she couldn’t seem to shut up. “We’re driving across the country…. We’re in Branson and we— Oh, none of that’s important.”

The silence on his end of the line returned and Ruth was convinced she’d made a mistake.

“Would you rather I didn’t attend the reunion?” he asked after another long moment.

“Oh, no…I mean, yes. I want you there. I’d really hoped we’d have a chance to talk first, though…if you agree.”

More silence. Ruth couldn’t stand the tension.

Eventually, he spoke. “I think that would be a good idea. Call me when you get into town, okay?”