Thirty-Five
Grant saw Bethanne approach the other man and instinctively realized he must be Max Scranton. Anger surged through him but as he started across the room his son placed one hand on his shoulder.
“What are you doing, Dad?”
“That’s Max! How dare he show up here.” The anger burned even hotter inside him.
“I sent him an invitation.”
Grant felt as if his own son had thrust a knife in his back. He stared at Andrew, shocked that he’d betrayed him in this way.
“Why?” He choked out the question. Did Andrew hate him that much?
“Dad,” Andrew said, locking eyes with him. “Look at them. Take a good, long look at them.”
Grant did and in that instant he knew with absolute certainty that it was too late. It didn’t matter if Andrew had mailed Max an invitation or not. Grant had already lost Bethanne. He’d sealed his own fate the day he’d abandoned his family.
Without another word he turned and hurried out. Not knowing where else he could go, he went into the men’s room. Pain overwhelmed him and, fearing he was about to collapse, he braced both hands against the wall, head down. He closed his eyes and struggled to breathe normally.
Despite all his efforts, his folly had cost him everything. He’d hoped to win back Bethanne. God help him, he loved her; he hadn’t known how much until it was too late.
“Dad?” Andrew stepped into the room and stood directly behind him.
Grant didn’t respond.
“It’s going to be all right.”
No, it wasn’t. Nothing would ever be all right again. He was without hope. “I’ve lost your mother.”
“Yes, I believe you have.”
“She’s going with Max.”
“She’s falling in love with him,” Andrew said.
Grant straightened, fists clenched at his sides. He fought to hold on to his composure, although tears scalded his eyes.
“You’re going to be all right,” Andrew told him again.
Grant snickered. “Like you care what happens to me.”
“Actually, I do,” Andrew whispered. “I didn’t think I did, and I’d rather not, but you’re still my father.”
Grant turned to face his son. His vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears. He’d thought he’d lost his son completely. With a wrenching sob he reached for Andrew and drew him into his arms and hugged him close, as though his very life depended on this moment. Perhaps it did.
“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “So sorry. I need my son...please, I need my son.”
It took Andrew a few seconds to return the hug. For a long time, they clung to each other.
“I need you, too,” Andrew confessed. “I didn’t want to, but I do.”
They broke apart and after a few minutes Grant said in a husky voice, “Okay, I’m ready.” He wiped the moisture from his cheeks with the back of his hand.
Andrew stared at him quizzically.
“I need to meet Max and wish your mother happiness.” It wouldn’t be easy but he’d told Bethanne he loved her enough to want her happiness above his own and he meant it.
Andrew nodded approvingly. “I’ll come with you.”
Grant regarded him for a few seconds. Although he’d lost Bethanne, he’d found the road back to his son. He put his hand on Andrew’s shoulder, proud of the fine young attorney he’d become, and managed to say, “Thank you.”
* * *
“I couldn’t wait another second,” Max whispered.
With a huge lump forming in her throat, Bethanne seemed incapable of doing anything other than gazing up at him. Not until she’d learned he might be at the wedding did she realize how desperately she’d missed him.
“I sincerely hope you’re as glad to see me as I am to see you,” he murmured.
Still in a trance she continued to stare. This was Max. Right here. Now. This minute.
Grinning boyishly, he added, “You don’t need to give me your answer yet as long as you let me hold you.”
Looking around her, Bethanne became aware that they stood in the middle of the dance floor with couples all around them. The music was slow and sultry, a love ballad.
“Maybe we should just dance,” she suggested.
Max’s grin widened. “I welcome any excuse to wrap my arms around you.”
They moved a step closer and Max slipped his arms around her waist. Holding her tight against him, he lifted her feet off the floor, nearly crushing her in his embrace. Bethanne put both arms around his neck and buried her face in the curve of his shoulder. “I have missed you so much.”
He snorted as though discounting her words. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Probably not,” she agreed. This time apart had been hard on her, too, but necessary. In the weeks they hadn’t spoken, she’d been able to listen to her inner self and recognize what she wanted. Just as her son had said—once she listened, she knew.
What she wanted. Who she needed. Max.
Because of her twenty years with Grant and because of their children, she felt she had to give reconciliation an honest attempt, but it hadn’t worked. It never really would, despite Grant’s efforts to win her back.
Max’s hold relaxed and she slid down his front until her feet were secure on the floor. Although they made a pretense of dancing, all they really did was shuffle their feet and gaze at each other. Bethanne was nearly giddy with joy.
Max pressed the side of his face against her temple and she closed her eyes. This must be what it felt like in heaven, she mused. This overwhelming sense of happiness, of being complete. This elation.
“Mom, Mom...” Annie’s voice broke into her near-trance. Reluctantly, she pulled away from Max to look at her daughter, who’d hurried across the polished dance floor.
“Mom,” Annie repeated, and stopped abruptly when she saw Max. Her jaw fell open. “Wow, you look...fabulous.”
“Thank you.” Max smiled down at Bethanne.
“I came to tell you Rooster’s here.”
“You brought Rooster?” Bethanne directed the question to Max.
He winked. “It’s more a case of him bringing me.”
“I owe him,” Bethanne whispered.
“We both do.”
“Rooster is talking to Grandma and Royce,” Annie said. “And Dad’s—”
“Oh, boy.” Bethanne wasn’t so sure what Grant’s reaction would be, although she sensed that he knew it was over. Really over.
Annie shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’ve already talked to Dad. He and Andrew...well, you’ll see.”
“I’ll talk to your father myself.” Bethanne couldn’t leave this to anyone else. He had to hear it from her; she was about to explain that when Andrew and Grant approached them.
Grant stepped forward and the two men eyed each other intently. Andrew clasped his dad’s shoulder and after a momentary hesitation Grant extended his hand. “I’m Grant.”
“Max.”
His gaze shifted to Bethanne, and he hugged her, then looked back at Max. “Love her.”
“I intend to do exactly that,” Max said. “Thank you.”
Grant nodded and they exchanged handshakes. Grant turned to face Bethanne.
She met his look and saw the pain in his eyes. He held her gaze a moment longer and whispered, “Be happy.”
She swallowed tightly. “I will.” Then her eyes met Andrew’s and she realized that the wall between her son and his father was gone.
Grant moved away and greeted an old friend as if nothing of importance had taken place.
Andrew came forward. “You’re Max.” The comment was more statement than question.
“I take it I have you to thank for the invitation,” Max said as they shook hands.
Courtney joined them, and Andrew slipped his arm around her waist. “And this is Courtney, my wife. I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the future.”
Max turned to Bethanne, his eyes full of warmth. “That’s certainly my intention. By the way, congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Courtney smiled at him. “Andrew and I also wanted to thank you for the wine.”
“And the champagne,” Andrew added. “I’d offer you a glass but it disappeared pretty quickly after the toast.”
Max seemed touched by their appreciation. “I wanted to do something for you. I hope your guests enjoyed it.”
“We all did,” Andrew assured him. Then, looking from him to Bethanne, he said, “I hope you intend to make my mother blissfully happy.”
Max took Bethanne’s hand in his. “I plan to see to it at my earliest opportunity.”
“And when will that be?” Bethanne asked.
“How about right now?”
“Celebrate, Mom,” her son whispered. “This is a festive occasion.”
“I am happy.” How could she not be? Max drew her back into his embrace and they resumed dancing, held close in each other’s arms. They passed her father and Suzette on the dance floor; he smiled and gave them an outrageous wink.
Annie left soon after, and Andrew and Courtney continued to mingle with their guests. Bethanne noticed that Max’s appearance had caused a stir. She could almost hear the speculation as to who he might be and how she knew this handsome stranger.
“So that is you.” Ruth marched up to Max and Bethanne, with Royce at her side.
“Hello, Ruth,” Max greeted her, releasing Bethanne yet again.
With one hand on her hip, Ruth said, “If you’d been dressed like that when we first met you, you would’ve saved me a lot of grief.”
“Sorry about that.”
“As you should be.”
Max laughed out loud. “And this has to be the famous Royce.”
Royce thrust out his hand. “Glad to make your acquaintance,” he said.
“Likewise.”
“We were talking to Rooster a few minutes ago,” Ruth said. “He was wearing a suit. And a tie.”
Bethanne nodded. “He cleans up pretty well, too, doesn’t he?”
“You two certainly played me for a fool.”
“Ah, Ruth, would we do that?” Max teased.
“It appears so. Now, you listen to me, young man. For whatever reason, this girl loves you. I can’t understand it myself. She was married to my son and I have to tell you, she—”
“Ruth,” Bethanne interrupted, convinced Ruth had had one glass of champagne too many.
“She deserves a man who’ll love and appreciate her,” Ruth went on. “If that isn’t you, then I suggest you leave now before I make a fuss and embarrass my grandson and his bride on their wedding day.”
“I’m your man,” Max said. “I plan to love Bethanne for the rest of my life.”
“I can shorten that life if you fail me.”
“What’s going on here?” Robin, Grant’s sister, rushed over to them, reading the situation all wrong. “Should I contact the authorities?”
“Oh, hardly,” Ruth told her. “This doesn’t concern you.” She planted her hands on her daughter’s back and steered Robin away. “By the way,” Ruth said over her shoulder, “Max, this is Robin. Robin, Max.”
He sent her a small wave.
“Is there anyone else I should meet before I take you someplace private and show you how much I’ve missed you?”
“I’m not sure.” Bethanne looked around, conscious of all the people watching her and Max.
“Well, I am.” With one sweep of his arms, he lifted her completely off her feet.
Bethanne gave a cry of surprise as she slipped her own arms around his neck. His right arm was around her waist and the other supported her legs. He started toward the exit.
It was such an outrageous, romantic thing to do, Bethanne didn’t know how to respond. “Put me down,” she gasped.
“Not on your life.”
“Then at least tell me where we’re going!”
“We’re headed,” Max whispered, his eyes brimming with love, “for the rest of our lives.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from by Sheila Roberts.