Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(28)

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m grateful you’re my daughter.”

Casey glanced over at Lydia and smiled. “And I’m grateful you’re my mom.”

Chapter Eleven

Max carried their second cups of coffee to the kitchen table. They’d finished breakfast, and the dishes were in the dishwasher. Bethanne didn’t need to be a psychic to notice something was on her husband’s mind. No doubt it was related to Grant and their conversation from the night before. They’d talked briefly about Grant, tiptoeing around the subject of her ex-husband. It seemed they were each leery of doing or saying anything that would cause a disagreement. Certainly an argument wouldn’t be the best way to start what promised to be a wonderful, celebratory weekend.

Quite honestly, Bethanne had been as surprised as Max to learn Grant had a key to her house. The only explanation she had to give him was that Annie must have given it to her father. Because she was upset, Bethanne hadn’t confronted her daughter, but she would in due time. She was sure that Grant had somehow convinced Annie he needed access to the house. Why Grant felt entitled was beyond comprehension.

“As soon as we’ve finished with our coffee I’ll make a run to the hardware store,” Max said, setting his mug down on the quilted placemat at the kitchen table.

Her husband had insisted on changing the locks. “I don’t think that’s necessary—”

He stopped her with a look.

“But if you’re determined, then go ahead.”

“I’m determined.”

“So I see,” she said, making light of his insistence. Bethanne had every intention of getting the house key back from Grant. Clearly, that wasn’t enough for Max.

“I wanted to talk to you for another reason,” Max said as he stared down at his coffee. His hands cupped the mug, and he didn’t make eye contact.

“All right.” He was so serious, Bethanne hardly knew what to think.

“It isn’t a good idea for us to live apart like this.”

She agreed.

“You coming to California is hard on you and the business, and for me to fly up here is equally taxing. We each seem to have one foot in Washington and another in California, and frankly, it isn’t working.”

Bethanne should have seen this coming.

“We need to make a decision. Either you sell your business and move to California or I sell my business and make a fresh start here.”

“What about moving your business to Washington State?” she suggested.

“Bethanne, think about it. I have a huge warehouse facility. It isn’t like I could pack everything up and transport it a thousand miles. The logistics would be a nightmare. In addition Washington State recently changed its laws so that wine can be obtained outside of a distributor, and you know—”

“Okay, okay,” she said, stopping him. “It was just an idea.”

“One that doesn’t work. It makes far more sense for you to sell your business and move to California and live with me.”

Bethanne scooted back her chair, stood, and walked over to the window that looked out over the deck and backyard. The birdfeeder Andrew had built as a Boy Scout hung from a thick branch of the maple tree. “I’d need to sell the house, too.” This home contained a patchwork quilt of memories, some good, some bad. Still, it was the home she loved and where she’d forged a new life for herself, stepping out of the role as wife and stay-at-home mother. It was from this house that she’d launched a career and become a savvy businesswoman.

“Whether you decide to keep the house or sell it is completely up to you.”

“Why would I keep it to leave it sitting empty?” she asked. The thought of moving away from her children, her home, and her business filled her with a deep sense of loss.

“Like I said, that would be your decision.”

Her throat grew thick, and she slowly turned to face him. “Max, do you realize what you’re asking me to do?”

His eyes connected with hers, and slowly he nodded. He moved toward her, cupping her shoulders. It took him a couple moments to speak. “It isn’t an easy choice for you or for me. If we’re going to make a go of this marriage, one of us needs to make the sacrifice.”

“I started the party business when Grant left me. I built it from the ground up.”

“I know. I built my business from the ground up, too.”

Bottom line, Max wanted her with him in California because of Grant’s behavior. Even now, more than a year after she’d married Max, Grant had yet to accept the fact that she hadn’t chosen to reunite with him.

Her gaze delved into that of her husband. “Now there’s going to be a grandbaby.”

“Yes,” Max said, “and an ever-stronger reason for Grant to invade our marriage.”

“Moving to California is cheating me out of the joy of watching this child grow.”

“You can visit as often as you want. Andrew and Courtney are welcome to come to us anytime.”

Bethanne recalled as a young mother how difficult it was to travel with children. She remembered, soon after Annie had been born, traveling to her parents’ home for Thanksgiving. By the time Grant had finished loading up the car and she’d gotten everything they would need for both Andrew and Annie, they’d both felt so exhausted they’d argued. The trip had been a disaster. Annie had come down with the flu and the car had blown a tire. It was the last Thanksgiving they’d spent with her side of the family. Bethanne didn’t feel she could ask her son and his wife to make the same sacrifice.