A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [115]
“Yes,” she whispered. She knew now that she’d been unfair to him. “You’re right…I should never have called.”
“I’m glad you did. Just hearing from you gives me hope.”
She had to talk about something else before she started crying again. “Did everything go well with you and your brother?”
“Extremely well. I’m resuming my position in the business. What’s your email address? I’ll send you a link so you can check it out.”
She rattled it off before she could change her mind.
“I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.”
“Goodbye, Max.”
“Goodbye, my love.”
She hung up the phone and fell onto the thick down comforter. Reaching for a pillow, she bunched it up under her head and closed her eyes, thinking she’d rest for a few minutes. The next time she stirred, it was dark outside and she felt chilled.
When she realized she’d been asleep, Bethanne sat up and waited for her vision to adjust to the dark. She’d had no idea she was this tired. True, she hadn’t slept well in several nights…
Oh, no. Had she really phoned Max or was that part of some weird dream? Her stomach tensed. It felt far too real to have been a dream.
Bethanne dragged herself off the bed and took a hot bath, got into her pajamas and returned to her bedroom, peeling back the covers. She climbed into bed and didn’t wake until early Monday morning.
Once she was up and dressed, she brewed coffee and put a load of clothes in the washer. Then she sat at her home office computer to check her email.
As the messages appeared, the most current at the top, she saw Max’s name and inhaled sharply. He’d said he would forward a link to his company website, but she hadn’t expected him to do it this soon.
She read the release and, smiling, picked up the phone.
“I called you last night, didn’t I?” she said when he answered.
“Yes. Are you feeling better now?”
“Yes. I…I’m sorry.”
“I mean what I said, Bethanne.”
“Good.”
She heard Rooster’s voice in the background.
“I’m interrupting you,” she said.
“Not really. Rooster’s helping me clean out the house. I’ve got an appointment with a real estate agent this afternoon.”
This was the house he’d lived in with Kate and their daughter. He must be dealing with a lot of difficult emotional issues. “Where will you move?” she asked.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
He didn’t hesitate. “You.”
“Oh, Max.” Her shoulders slumped. Guilt, never very far away, came to hover near her.
“Are you still upset?”
“No.”
“I’m glad.” He chuckled. “I thought you weren’t going to call me again,” he teased.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Yes, you should,” he said. “Call me anytime you want, day or night, understand?”
“I won’t,” she told him adamantly. “Not until after Andrew and Courtney’s wedding. That’s what we agreed.”
The doorbell chimed. She was in no mood for company. The bell chimed again and she groaned. Whoever was there didn’t seem inclined to leave. “Hold on, someone’s at the door,” she said, putting down the phone.
Before she could get to the foyer, she heard the front door open. It was Grant.
“Grant?” she said, shocked that he’d just walk into the house. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “I thought I’d stop by to see that you were doing okay after the flight and—”
“This is my home now! You don’t have the right to let yourself in without an invitation.”
He blinked as though her words offended him. “I apologize,” he said stiffly. “The front door was unlocked and I wasn’t sure you heard the doorbell.”
As tired as she was the night before, Bethanne must have forgotten to lock it.
“Would you rather I left?” he asked, looking sufficiently chastened. “I certainly didn’t mean to upset you and I can see that I have.”
Bethanne exhaled, torn between irritation and apprehension. She didn’t want Grant to know Max was on the phone and, at the same time, she didn’t want Max to know Grant was in the house.
“I’ve made a pot of coffee. Help yourself. I’m just finishing a phone call. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Thanks.”
She waited