Blossom Street Brides (11 page)

“Are you feeling up to this?” Lydia asked, noting that her daughter hadn’t shown much enthusiasm for attending Cody’s game.

Casey answered with a shrug. “I guess.”

“Would you rather stay home?”

“No.”

Lydia collected what she needed, mainly her purse and her knitting. Casey joined her, her head down and her shoulders slumped forward.

Lydia waited until they were on their way to the park before she asked, “Would it help if you talked about your dream?”

“No.” Casey’s quick response left Lydia in no doubt of the teen’s feelings on the matter.

Lydia tried another approach. “Would it be easier to talk to someone other than your father or me?”

“Like who? A shrink?”

Lydia hadn’t thought this out. “No. The first person who popped into my mind was my mother. The two of you are close and—”

Casey quickly cut her off. “No way.”

“It was just a suggestion.”

“Can we not talk about my dream?” the teen snapped.

“Sure, if that’s what you want. We can pretend it never happened, if that will make you feel better.”

“Thank you,” Casey returned, less churlish. “I don’t want you to mention it ever again, okay?”

“That’s your choice. But in case you ever do, I want you to know I’ll be ready to listen.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Casey reiterated in a loud voice. “How many times do I have to repeat it?”

“Okay, message received.”

Her daughter remained sullen and silent the rest of the way to the baseball field. As soon as they parked the car, Casey saw a friend and, with only a minimum of conversation, left Lydia.

“Don’t go far,” Lydia called after her.

Casey whirled around, sent Lydia a dirty look, and then headed in the opposite direction.

Brad had saved a seat on the bleachers next to him, and Lydia scooted past several other parents and grandparents in order to sit next to her husband.

The opposing team was up to bat, and Cody played shortstop. He was bent over, gently swaying back and forth, ever ready to catch the ball if needed.

“Is everything okay with Casey?” Brad asked when Lydia was settled in the seat.

Lydia wasn’t sure what to tell him. “She made it clear she doesn’t want to discuss the dream.” She felt it was probably best not to mention her bad attitude.

“We need to give the kid space to work this out on her own.”

Lydia agreed. Glancing around, she didn’t catch sight of Janice. “Everything okay with Cody?”

Brad shrugged. “Janice said she’d stop by, but she hasn’t shown up yet. Surprise, surprise.”

Janice had given birth to Cody and then left Brad and her young son when he was only a few years old. Brad had raised Cody on his own until Lydia had come into their lives and they’d married. One of the happiest days of Lydia’s life was when Cody had started to call her Mom. He was her son in every way, the same as Casey was her daughter. Children of her heart if not of her body.

“Will it disappoint Cody if she doesn’t show?”

“Probably, but he’s been disappointed plenty before. He knows to take Janice’s promises with a grain of salt.”

It was times like these that Lydia wanted to shake Cody’s birth mother for her lackadaisical attitude toward her son.

“What are Casey’s plans for the day?” Brad asked, changing the subject.

Lydia knew he was angry on his son’s behalf and trying hard to hide his feelings. “Casey will come with me to the shop, and then this afternoon I’m picking up Ava and the two of them are going to the movies.”

“You need me to pick them up?”

“If you want. I thought I’d stop off and get groceries from there.”

“Okay.”

Lydia stayed long enough to see Cody hit a home run.
The boy showed athletic skills and genuinely loved sports. When it was time to leave, Lydia found Casey, who appeared to be in a much better mood.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

Casey nodded. She didn’t speak again until they were in the car and she’d snapped on her seat belt. “Sorry to be such a pill this morning.”

“Apology accepted.”

“You’re a good mom.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m grateful you’re my daughter.”

Casey glanced over at Lydia and smiled. “And I’m grateful you’re my mom.”

Max carried their second cups of coffee to the kitchen table. They’d finished breakfast, and the dishes were in the dishwasher. Bethanne didn’t need to be a psychic to notice something was on her husband’s mind. No doubt it was related to Grant and their conversation from the night before. They’d talked briefly about Grant, tiptoeing around the subject of her ex-husband. It seemed they were each leery of doing or saying anything that would cause a disagreement. Certainly an argument wouldn’t be the best way to start what promised to be a wonderful, celebratory weekend.

Quite honestly, Bethanne had been as surprised as Max to learn Grant had a key to her house. The only explanation she had to give him was that Annie must have given it to her father. Because she was upset, Bethanne hadn’t confronted her daughter, but she would in due time. She was sure that Grant had somehow convinced Annie he needed access to the house. Why Grant felt entitled was beyond comprehension.

“As soon as we’ve finished with our coffee I’ll make a run to the hardware store,” Max said, setting his mug down on the quilted placemat at the kitchen table.

Her husband had insisted on changing the locks. “I don’t think that’s necessary—”

He stopped her with a look.

“But if you’re determined, then go ahead.”

“I’m determined.”

“So I see,” she said, making light of his insistence. Bethanne had every intention of getting the house key back from Grant. Clearly, that wasn’t enough for Max.

“I wanted to talk to you for another reason,” Max said as he stared down at his coffee. His hands cupped the mug, and he didn’t make eye contact.

“All right.” He was so serious, Bethanne hardly knew what to think.

“It isn’t a good idea for us to live apart like this.”

She agreed.

“You coming to California is hard on you and the business, and for me to fly up here is equally taxing. We each seem to have one foot in Washington and another in California, and frankly, it isn’t working.”

Bethanne should have seen this coming.

“We need to make a decision. Either you sell your business and move to California or I sell my business and make a fresh start here.”

“What about moving your business to Washington State?” she suggested.

“Bethanne, think about it. I have a huge warehouse
facility. It isn’t like I could pack everything up and transport it a thousand miles. The logistics would be a nightmare. In addition Washington State recently changed its laws so that wine can be obtained outside of a distributor, and you know—”

“Okay, okay,” she said, stopping him. “It was just an idea.”

“One that doesn’t work. It makes far more sense for you to sell your business and move to California and live with me.”

Bethanne scooted back her chair, stood, and walked over to the window that looked out over the deck and backyard. The birdfeeder Andrew had built as a Boy Scout hung from a thick branch of the maple tree. “I’d need to sell the house, too.” This home contained a patchwork quilt of memories, some good, some bad. Still, it was the home she loved and where she’d forged a new life for herself, stepping out of the role as wife and stay-at-home mother. It was from this house that she’d launched a career and become a savvy businesswoman.

“Whether you decide to keep the house or sell it is completely up to you.”

“Why would I keep it to leave it sitting empty?” she asked. The thought of moving away from her children, her home, and her business filled her with a deep sense of loss.

“Like I said, that would be your decision.”

Her throat grew thick, and she slowly turned to face him. “Max, do you realize what you’re asking me to do?”

His eyes connected with hers, and slowly he nodded. He moved toward her, cupping her shoulders. It took him a couple moments to speak. “It isn’t an easy choice for you or for me. If we’re going to make a go of this marriage, one of us needs to make the sacrifice.”

“I started the party business when Grant left me. I built it from the ground up.”

“I know. I built my business from the ground up, too.”

Bottom line, Max wanted her with him in California because of Grant’s behavior. Even now, more than a year after she’d married Max, Grant had yet to accept the fact that she hadn’t chosen to reunite with him.

Her gaze delved into that of her husband. “Now there’s going to be a grandbaby.”

“Yes,” Max said, “and an ever-stronger reason for Grant to invade our marriage.”

“Moving to California is cheating me out of the joy of watching this child grow.”

“You can visit as often as you want. Andrew and Courtney are welcome to come to us anytime.”

Bethanne recalled as a young mother how difficult it was to travel with children. She remembered, soon after Annie had been born, traveling to her parents’ home for Thanksgiving. By the time Grant had finished loading up the car and she’d gotten everything they would need for both Andrew and Annie, they’d both felt so exhausted they’d argued. The trip had been a disaster. Annie had come down with the flu and the car had blown a tire. It was the last Thanksgiving they’d spent with her side of the family.
Bethanne didn’t feel she could ask her son and his wife to make the same sacrifice.

“I’ll think on it,” she promised.

“Thank you,” Max returned, with a grateful smile that told her he understood how difficult this was for her. “I appreciate that you’re willing to consider the possibility.”

Bethanne’s stomach knotted. “Would you consider selling your business?” she asked, thinking of all she would need to relinquish with such a move. “Don’t you think Rooster would be interested in buying out your shares?”

“I don’t think that’s an option.”

“Why not?”

“He’s pretty much got his finances tied up in the company. We’re partners, and this is a decision we’d need to make jointly. I know Rooster is tired of California and would like to live in the Pacific Northwest.” He paused when he saw her stricken look. “What’s wrong?”

For a moment Bethanne thought she might be sick. “You mean to tell me that Rooster is considering moving to Washington State and you’re not?”

Max didn’t answer. “It isn’t like that. Rooster knows as well as I do that such a move now would wipe us out financially.”

“I was hoping you’d consider making an investment in me and my children,” she said softly, unable to hide her disappointment. “But because you asked, I’ll give the matter of moving serious consideration.”

“If you’re concerned about selling, then you might want to consider taking the party business to California with you.”

“My customer base is here … it would be like starting over, but you’re right, I could uproot the company.” There didn’t appear to be any easy answers for either of them, she realized.

Max left shortly afterward for the hardware store. Bethanne waited until he was out of the house before she contacted Annie. Her daughter answered sounding groggy and sleepy.

“Annie, it’s Mom.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you still sleeping?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Can you answer a quick question?” Bethanne asked, doing her best to keep her voice level and unemotional.

“Something come up with one of the parties scheduled for today?” Annie asked.

“No, this is something else. I need to know if you gave your father a key to the house … my house,” she said, determined to get to the end of this matter.

“Yeah. You sound upset. What’s the big deal?”

Bethanne ignored the question. “What possible reason would you have to hand over the house key to my ex-husband?”

“He might be your ex-husband,” Annie said defiantly, sounding wide awake now, “but he’s still my dad.”

“Then give him the key to your apartment.”

“Mom, you’re overreacting. Dad told me he’d left his sunglasses at the house. He said he tried to reach you and couldn’t, and—”

“Did he return the key?”

“Well, no. I was out last night, and it’s still early—”

“It’s after ten,” Bethanne interrupted.

“Is that some kind of commentary about me still being in bed?” Annie snapped.

“No, this is about you giving your father something he had no right to have.”

“Fine. I’ll get it from him this morning and personally return it to you, if that’s what you want.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Then why are you being so ugly about this? Are you afraid Dad was going to rob you?”

“He invaded my privacy, and you let him.”

“I said I’d get the key back.”

“Don’t. Max is changing the locks.”

Annie groaned. “I suppose this means I won’t be getting a key to my own home.”

“You have an apartment. This is my home.”

“And I’m no longer welcome. Thanks a lot, Mom.” With that, Annie abruptly ended the call.

Bethanne was fuming to the point that it was impossible to stand still. She paced the kitchen in an attempt to put order to her thoughts. Annie had stepped way over the line. Still, Bethanne realized there’d been a better way of dealing with the situation. Grant was a smooth talker and capable of talking a hermit crab out of its shell. Annie and her father had always been close, and Annie would be willing to do anything her father asked of her.

Still frustrated, Bethanne vacuumed the entire upstairs
and then stuffed a load of laundry into the washing machine. When she heard the front door open, Bethanne assumed it was Max. She swallowed down her regrets over her conversation with Annie and pasted on a smile.

“Is that you, Max?” she asked, coming down the stairs.

“It’s me,” Andrew called from the kitchen. “I rang the doorbell, but no one answered.”

“This is a welcome surprise,” Bethanne said, bouncing down the last three steps and standing on her tiptoes to kiss her son’s cheek.

“I wanted to check to be sure you were still on for dinner tonight.”

“Of course, and Max will be joining us.”