A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [71]
“Did you have a disagreement?” Ruth asked, sounding hopeful.
“No. He was tired and so was I.” Preferring not to discuss Max, she asked, “How was the show?”
“Incredible,” Ruth said on the end of a dreamy sigh. “I could fall in love with Andy Williams all over again. Oh, my, that boy can sing.”
“He’s hardly a boy, Grandma.”
“Was it as dreadful as you feared?” Bethanne asked her daughter.
Annie set her purse on the dresser. “You know, it wasn’t bad.”
“Told you.” Ruth couldn’t keep from chortling.
“He isn’t someone I’d purposely see again,” Annie added, “but I have to admit he does have a decent singing voice. Even at his age.”
“What about the songs?”
“They were all right.” Annie shrugged as if to say she could take them or leave them.
“All right?” Ruth muttered. “‘Moon River’ is all right? It’s brilliant!” After a moment she started to undress for bed.
Annie sat beside Bethanne, then tucked her feet up and rested her chin on her bent knees. “Dad and I had a long talk.”
“Oh.” No doubt she and Max were the main topic of that conversation.
“I told Dad how strange you’ve been acting.” She grinned as she said it.
“I’m sure he had a lot to say.” Bethanne let the acting-strange comment go unchallenged.
“I told Grant he should be more concerned than he is, but I’m afraid my son gave up listening to my advice a long time ago,” Ruth said as she smoothed hand lotion over her upper arms and vigorously rubbed it in.
“Dad said we should leave you and Max alone,” Annie astonished her by saying.
“He did?” That hardly sounded like the Grant she remembered.
“Yes. I know he’s right.” She looked steadily at Bethanne. “He also said he might’ve already lost you, and if so, it’s what he deserved.”
Grant said that?
“Dad told me you’d have to make up your own mind.”
“Personally, I think my son has lost his,” Ruth murmured as she capped the lotion. “The least he could do is show a little gumption and fight for you.”
Unable to resist, Bethanne smiled. Ruth made it sound like the two men should choose their weapons and face off at dawn.
“This is Grant’s business and yours,” Ruth went on. “So I’ll butt out. Besides, I have news.”
Annie bounced on the bed. “You called Royce!”
As though embarrassed, Ruth lowered her head and nodded.
“When?”
“Earlier, when you were shopping.”
“What did he say?” Again it was Annie who asked, leaning forward in her enthusiasm to hear. “I’ll bet he was glad you called.”
“I think so…I think he even recognized my voice. I certainly recognized his. It hasn’t changed a bit. He sounded the same as he did at eighteen.”
“How did the conversation go?” Bethanne didn’t want to appear too eager, but judging by the look on Ruth’s face, she already had her answer.
“We agreed to meet before the reunion to talk.”
“Oh, Ruth, that’s wonderful.” Bethanne was pleased for her and grateful that the conversation had gone well. She’d wondered if Ruth would find the courage to contact Royce—and hoped she would.
“I talked to Jane, too.”
“Is everyone excited about the reunion?” Annie sank back against the pillow and yawned.
“Yes, and everything seems to be coming together nicely,” Ruth said, her eyes bright. “Jane told me they have the high school gym for the dinner and dance, just the way we did for the senior prom. She heard from Jim Maxwell and Alice Coan. They’ve been married for fifty years now, so it’s a double celebration for them.”
“Do you remember your senior prom?” Annie said, studying her grandmother.
Ruth laughed. “I doubt I’ll ever forget it.”
“Were you with Royce?”
“Oh, yes,” she said dreamily.
“It must’ve been so romantic.”
“Hardly.” Ruth shook her head. “Actually, it was one of the worst nights of my life.”
“Grandma, how can you say that? What happened?”
Ruth pulled down the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s quite a story.”
“Tell us,” Bethanne urged.
“Well…I might have mentioned that Royce’s parents didn’t have a lot of money. The Jamesons sold everything they owned for the opportunity to purchase an orange grove.