A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [116]
Sitting at her desk, she propped her elbow on it and rested her forehead in her hand. “I have to go,” she told Max.
“Remember, if there’s anything else you want to know about me, all you have to do is ask.”
Despite her discomfort, Bethanne smiled. “I’ll remember.”
“Call me anytime.”
“I won’t be calling,” she said. This was becoming a litany, repeated time after time.
“That’s a pity.”
Grumbling under her breath, she replaced the receiver, then joined her ex-husband in the kitchen. Grant had poured himself a cup of coffee; he looked relaxed and at home.
“I apologize again, Bethanne. Walking into the house was presumptuous of me.”
She wasn’t going to argue. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “As you can see, I’m safe and sound.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Very well.” She didn’t fill in the details.
He stirred sugar into his coffee. “Do you have plans for tonight?”
Seeing that she’d already agreed to have dinner with him on Tuesday, she couldn’t imagine what he had in mind for tonight. “Not really. What are you thinking?”
“There’s something I want to show you.” He gave her a rather self-satisfied smile, which made her wonder. Still, she’d hoped for a quiet Monday evening.
“Today?” she asked. “Can’t we do it later in the week?”
“Ah, sure.” He was clearly disappointed.
“Could you tell me what it is?”
Grant cradled his mug of coffee. “It’s a house, a lovely one that’s been on the market for a while. The owners are ready to bargain—and so am I.”
Thirty-Two
Bethanne didn’t really want to see this house Grant was so excited about. She knew from the years they were married that he’d dreamed of one day buying a home on Lake Washington. Waterfront property was highly sought after and, in a word, expensive.
By Wednesday afternoon, Bethanne regretted ever having consented to this. She hadn’t been back in the office long and had barely had time to do more than answer emails and catch up with a few pressing items that required her immediate attention. Julia Hayden had done a masterful job but there were a number of decisions only Bethanne could make. Her day was harried enough without this appointment.
He phoned at noon to confirm their meeting time. She almost told him that he should arrange the viewing for another evening. What changed her mind was how excited he seemed. She hadn’t heard that kind of enthusiasm from him in a very long while.
A half hour before she planned to leave, Annie wandered into her office. “Has your day been as hectic as mine?” her daughter asked.
“Yes,” Bethanne said, glancing up from her computer screen.
Annie sat down in the chair across from her desk. “Did you and Dad get together last night?”
“We did.” Grant had taken Bethanne to an old favorite of theirs. Zorba’s was a family-owned Greek restaurant where they used to dine every year on their birthdays. Bethanne enjoyed Mediterranean-style cuisine, and so did Grant. Back then, it had been a real treat to splurge on a couple of special nights.
As Grant’s career advanced they were able to dine out more often and they’d expanded their repertoire of restaurants. Bethanne hadn’t gone to Zorba’s since the divorce. Their meal on Tuesday evening had been pleasant and, not surprisingly, led to reminiscences of previous dinners there. The original owners, whom they remembered fondly, had retired and their children now ran Zorba’s. While the recipes were the same, or so they were told, the food didn’t taste quite as good.
“Dad said he was taking you to your favorite place.”
“We had several favorite restaurants.”
“You can’t throw away all those years, Mom! You just can’t.”
Bethanne didn’t comment. Instead, she changed the subject. “Did your father mention that he wants us to see a house this afternoon?”
“Yeah, I think that’s great, don’t you?”
Bethanne was a little startled by her daughter’s reaction. “I’m not selling the house, Annie. I told your father that when he brought up this idea, but he insisted I at least