A Turn in the Road

by Debbie Macomber

  Bethanne drew back. If she thought this time in Florida, away from Max, would clear her head, she was wrong. She stood abruptly and grabbed her purse, ready to go. Their kiss had been...comfortable. And that had unsettled her.

  Watching her closely, Grant stood, too. He’d paid for their lunch when he’d placed the order, so they were free to leave. They walked back to the hotel, side by side. He didn’t reach for her hand and Bethanne was grateful. She wasn’t sure what she felt. No, that wasn’t it. She felt too much. Too many different emotions. Contradictory emotions. She longed to call Max and tell him what had happened, discuss it with him. But they’d made no promises to each other, no commitments. In fact, everything had been left unresolved.

  As they walked, Grant peered down the beach. “Is that Annie and Craig?” he asked.

  Bethanne looked up and nodded.

  Annie saw them and waved, and then, with Craig at her side, she raced toward Bethanne and Grant.

  “Mom, Dad,” Annie said, sounding breathless and excited. “Craig and I have the most fantastic idea.”

  “Which is?” Bethanne asked.

  Still gasping, Annie pressed her hand over her heart. “We want to redo prom night for Grandma and Royce.”

  “The whole thing,” Craig said, equally excited. “From beginning to end.”

  “What do you mean? How exactly?”

  “The dinner and photos, a limo and a dance and everything,” Annie explained.

  “I’ve already talked to the manager of the restaurant at your hotel and there’s a private room we can use,” Craig said.

  Annie exchanged a smile with Royce’s grandson. “Craig has a friend who drives part-time for a limo company, and he checked and they have a car available Saturday night...”

  “I know Gramps would love to redo that night.”

  “Can we?” Annie’s eyes seemed twice their normal size as she implored them to consider the idea.

  Grant looked at Bethanne and she looked at him. She’d had enough experience throwing parties that this one wouldn’t be a problem.

  “We’ll make it happen,” she said.

  Grant nodded. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

  Twenty-Seven

  “What are we doing?” Ruth asked in a bewildered voice. Her eyes shot to Bethanne, who merely shrugged. They wouldn’t be able to keep the secret much longer, but she knew Annie wanted to play this out to the last possible second.

  “We’re going shopping, Grandma,” Annie said, steering her grandmother out of the hotel room and down the hallway toward the lobby.

  “But why? I brought everything I need. Will you two kindly tell me what you’ve got up your sleeves? And don’t you say it’s nothing, because I know better.”

  “You don’t have everything you need,” Annie insisted.

  “Surely you’ve learned not to argue with Annie,” Bethanne said, closing the door to their room and hurrying after them.

  “Just where are you taking me?” Ruth demanded.

  “Shopping.”

  “I found a perfect store right here on the beach that I want to show you,” Annie said. “We can walk there. Come on, Grandma.”

  “I don’t know what you two are up to,” Ruth muttered, clearly confused but curious nonetheless.

  “What makes you think we’re up to anything?” Bethanne asked innocently. She’d done her best to arrange everything without raising Ruth’s suspicions, but it’d been difficult. For the past twenty-four hours she’d met with florists, musicians and photographers. She’d run herself ragged and worked a miracle. Or what she hoped would be a miracle. Grant had talked to Royce and he’d agreed to do whatever he could to pull this off.

  Royce had contacted a number of their high school friends in town, including Jane and Diane. Meanwhile, Annie, Craig and Grant had been busy decorating the hotel restaurant’s private room, recreating prom night with the theme of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the same as it’d been fifty years earlier.

  “I think it’s time you spilled the beans,” Ruth said, planting her feet squarely on the sidewalk and refusing to budge.

  Annie’s shoulders heaved in a sigh. “I guess we might as well,” she said, glancing at Bethanne.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Bethanne agreed, trying not to smile.

  “Okay,” Annie said, looking at her grandmother. “Craig and I were talking and I asked him if he knew what happened the night of your senior prom.”

  “He did,” Bethanne added, “because he was well aware of what a disaster it turned out to be.”

  “And I was thinking,” Annie said, picking up the story, “what a shame it was that the two of you were so disappointed. Then Craig said it was too bad we couldn’t turn back the clock and do it all over again.”

  Annie threw her hands in the air as if that was explanation enough.

  “That’s when the two of them came to Grant and me,” Bethanne said.

  “With the idea of redoing prom night for you and Royce.” Annie’s face glowed with pride. “Only this time we’re going to make sure everything goes perfectly.”

  “Redoing prom night,” Ruth repeated.

  “So right now we’re taking you to pick up your prom dress.”

  “Pick it up? My goodness, I can’t imagine where that old dress went... The rain must have ruined it. In any case, I don’t recall ever seeing it again. And need I mention that it most likely wouldn’t fit even if I could locate it?”

  “Royce had a picture your mother took that night. Apparently, you’d given it to him.”

  What he didn’t know was that Bethanne and Grant had that photograph blown up so the couple would see themselves at seventeen and eighteen as they walked into the prom.

  “I found a dress shop here in Vero,” Annie said. “I showed them the photo and asked if they had any dresses similar to the one in the photograph.”

  “They couldn’t have anything close to that dress.” Ruth shook her head. “Fashion’s changed a lot over the years.”

  “You’re right, they didn’t.” Bethanne was eager to fill in the details. “But they knew of a secondhand shop that had high-end wear at reasonable prices and, well, I found a gown with an empire waist and took it to the seamstress who works at that dress shop...and all I can say is that she’s very talented.”

  Ruth looked stunned.

  “Come on, Grandma,” Annie said, urging her grandmother along the sidewalk. “We haven’t got all afternoon, you know.”

  “We need you to try on the dress first,” Bethanne told her.

  “First?”

  “Yes. You have a hair and nail appointment next.”

  “Hair and nails,” Ruth echoed as though in a trance. “I feel like someone needs to pinch me. Is this really happening?”

  “It’s really happening,” Annie said gleefully.

  “And Royce knows about this?”

  “Yes, some of it, but only because we needed his cooperation. We didn’t tell him until we had everything in place.”

  “Royce wants to do this?”

  “He does.” Bethanne slipped an arm around her and guided Ruth toward the dress shop. “He knows and approves.”

  “He’s excited, Grandma. He always felt bad about how that night turned out.”

  “It wasn’t his fault.”

  “He told me how wonderful you were,” Bethanne said. “You could’ve been really unpleasant about it but you weren’t.”

  The owner of the dress shop met them at the door and held it open. “I think this is a delightful idea,” she said, welcoming them inside. She led them to the back where the seamstress stood waiting.

  “This way,” she said, and gestured toward one of the dressing rooms.

  Ruth started inside—and stopped.
Then, looking over her shoulder, she stared at Bethanne and Annie. “Why, it’s almost identical to my dress the night of the prom. Even the bow is the same.” The lavender, floor-length empire-waist dress with its straight skirt and cap sleeves resembled the dress in the photograph to a remarkable degree. The seamstress had done exquisite work.

  “Oh, Ruth,” Bethanne breathed once her mother-in-law had tried on the dress. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  Annie nodded. “Grandma, this is going to be a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”

  “I can’t believe you’d do this for Royce and me,” Ruth said tearfully.

  “Mom and Dad worked really hard on this,” Annie told her.

  Rarely had Bethanne seen her daughter happier. It wasn’t until she’d overheard Annie talking to Grant the day before that she understood why. In Annie’s eyes the fact that Grant and Bethanne were getting along so well meant a reconciliation was imminent.

  Until then, Bethanne hadn’t fully accepted that her attitude toward Grant had changed. Without realizing it, she’d lowered her guard and allowed herself to become vulnerable to him. That recognition gave her pause. They’d worked together, running all over town, and had frequent “strategy” discussions. They’d laughed until they were giddy, and sipped wine until she felt light-headed. When Grant kissed her goodbye she could almost believe the divorce had never happened.

  If it was possible to turn back the clock for Ruth, could she do it for herself and Grant, too? Bethanne didn’t know.

  Glancing at her watch, she clapped her hands. “We have places to go and people to see,” she said, dismissing her thoughts. She couldn’t let herself get sidetracked. Not right now. She had too much to do.

  By seven on Saturday, just six days before the actual reunion, all the preparations for the prom had been made. Royce and Grant were at his house, where the car was due to arrive any minute, while Bethanne kept Ruth company at the hotel.

  Bethanne had purchased a party dress of her own at the secondhand shop. A frilly dress that was the kind of outfit Brenda Lee or Connie Francis might have worn, with a short skirt flaring out from the waist. A wide silk ribbon belted around her middle set off the strapless top.

  “I feel seventeen all over again,” Ruth said, running a hand along the front of her gown.

  “Good,” Bethanne said. “We want you to feel young and in love for your senior prom.”

  “Oh, Bethanne, I do. I really do. Royce is just the way I remember him...and so much more. I think I’m falling in love again.”

  “All we want is for you to be happy, Ruth.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that more than I can say.”

  Bethanne couldn’t recall a time she’d seen Ruth this excited.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Bethanne answered it to find Royce standing on the other side, dressed in a tuxedo and holding a wrist corsage in his hand.

  “Is Ruth here?” he asked.

  Ruth stepped forward and Royce’s jaw sagged. “Ruth, my goodness, that’s the same dress you wore the night of our prom.”

  “It isn’t the same dress. It’s a re-creation... Annie and Bethanne arranged this.”

  He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. “There’s a car waiting for us outside,” he mumbled.

  “A car?” Ruth asked. She gave Bethanne a puzzled look. “I thought you said the prom was taking place right here at the hotel.”

  “It is,” Bethanne responded in a whisper. “Just go with him.”

  “Okay,” Ruth whispered back.

  Royce helped her with her corsage, and Ruth pinned on the boutonniere Bethanne had ordered earlier. She walked them through the lobby and out the door, where the young chauffeur stood by the limousine. As soon as they appeared, he made a sweeping motion with his arm and held the back door open.

  Royce handed Ruth inside and then hurried around the car. When they’d driven off, Grant showed up. “Where are they going?” Bethanne asked.

  “For a ride down Ocean Drive,” he said. “Things weren’t quite ready yet, so we needed them to kill about fifteen minutes. Besides, the limo ride is part of the experience.”

  Bethanne followed Grant through the restaurant, where they attracted quite a few curious glances. With Grant attired in a suit and jacket, and she in her short, frilly dress, they must have looked like actors who’d stepped off the stage of a Broadway play about the 1960s.

  Annie dashed toward her when Bethanne entered the room. “What do you think, Mom?” she asked eagerly.

  Bethanne drew in her breath as she proceeded through an archway of colorful balloons. Annie, Grant and Craig had done a marvelous job. The band—five musicians and a lead singer—were off to one side behind a waist-high barrier of red velvet with “Class of 1961” emblazoned in gold lettering across the front. Several small tables, with lamps on each one, were artfully arranged around the room.

  Other couples started to arrive, and the photographer came forward to snap their pictures.

  Annie greeted each couple, giving them a printed program and offering the women a dance card.

  “Everything looks so real,” Bethanne told Grant. “I feel like a time traveler.” The life-size photograph of Royce and Ruth was propped against one wall, framed by tiny twinkling lights.

  “Just wait until the king and queen are crowned.”

  “Oh-h.” Bethanne brought one hand to her mouth. She hadn’t thought of that, but Grant had. They’d worked together to make this happen for Ruth and Royce, put aside their differences and become a team again. Even a few months ago, she wouldn’t have believed it possible, wouldn’t have believed they were capable of accomplishing this evening.

  When the starring couple arrived, the band began to play, and almost before she was aware of it, Bethanne found herself in Grant’s arms as he led her onto the small, makeshift dance floor.

  “That’s ‘Moon River.’ It’s the theme song from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Andy Williams sang it the night I went to the concert with Grandma in Branson,” Annie said as she and Royce’s grandson glided past Bethanne and Grant.

  “Apparently, Andy made an impression on our daughter,” Grant said, smiling down at her.

  “So it seems.”

  “Does it feel like high school all over again?” he asked, his head close to hers.

  Bethanne nodded. “It’s an amazing night.”

  “And it’s only just begun,” Grant murmured.

  She couldn’t imagine what else he had planned. But she was about to find out...

  About an hour into the night, the band paused and Grant walked to the stage and reached for the microphone.

  “The time has come to crown the king and queen of prom night,” he said, sounding every bit the professional spokesperson. “I know the suspense is almost more than we can bear.”

  There was polite laughter. Jane and Diane and their dates—their husbands—gathered around Ruth and Royce.

  “The ballots have been tallied and the decision made.” When he announced Royce’s name, a loud round of applause was followed by shouts and cheers.

  “Speech, speech,” the crowd chanted.

  Royce stepped forward, and Grant placed a crown on his head, then handed him the microphone. “There’s only one woman I want by my side this evening, and that’s Ruth,” he said.

  “Then so be it.” Grant held a second crown as Craig escorted Ruth to the small stage. Grant carefully set the crown on her head as tears glistened in her eyes. Then, right in front of everyone, Royce kissed her full on the lips.

  The crowd loved it. So did Bethanne, who exchanged a warm look with Grant. They’d done this. It hadn’t been easy, but all their effort was worth seeing the joy on Ruth’s face. And on Royce’s...

  The music started again, and the “royal” co
uple walked onto the dance floor, soon to be joined by others. Without conscious thought, Bethanne moved toward Grant.

  He slipped his arms around her as if they’d never been apart. As if they were still a couple. A team. The two of them against the world.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Grant whispered as he drew her close.

  “You worked as hard as I did.”

  “I wasn’t talking about redoing Mom’s prom night.”

  “Oh?” Bethanne wasn’t sure what he did mean, then.

  “I want to thank you for being the incredible woman you are, for giving my life meaning and for offering me hope that there’s a chance for the two of us again.”

  She smiled up at him and closed her eyes as she allowed the rhythm of the music to carry her. Their steps matched easily, smoothly, as innate as breathing. They used to dance together like this, but that was in another lifetime...

  Twenty-Eight

  Max Scranton pulled his motorcycle into the driveway of the home he’d once shared with Kate and their daughter. He hadn’t been here in more than three years. This was the first time he’d come back to Monterey since climbing on his Harley. He’d never intended to stay away this long, but there’d been no reason to return.

  Until now. Until he’d met Bethanne.

  Time lost all meaning as he sat on the bike in his driveway and stared at the house. He’d expected a flood of grief and regrets, but he felt almost nothing. No guilt, no heartache, no melancholy. His overwhelming emotion was sadness for what no longer existed. The life he’d known here was gone. He’d handed the business over to his brother and had lost touch with the majority of his friends.

  Shutting down the engine, he climbed off the bike and removed his helmet. The key to the house was hidden under a fake rock near the front door. His brother and Rooster routinely stopped by to check on the place and give him updates, although he wasn’t all that interested. He’d wanted to put the house on the market, but that would’ve meant returning and cleaning it out. He’d found the task too daunting.

  The car pulling in behind him took him by surprise.