"Yeah?" Annie didn't like to remember that. Her father and the lovely lovely Tiffany had hurt and betrayed two people. Well, four, including her and Andrew. Tiffany had hurt and betrayed two people. Well, four, including her and Andrew.

"I hadn't been out with another man for so many years that I started to shake. I didn't know how to act or what to say, and when I did find my tongue, I was convinced I sounded like a nutcase."

This wasn't a fair comparison to her situation with Jason. Her mother had been close to a nervous collapse the first few weeks after Annie's father moved out. Those days had been dreadful for all of them.

Annie had been furious with both her parents, but especially Bethanne. If her father fell in love with another woman, it had to be her mother's fault. Bethanne was boring, Annie decided. Her mother's whole world revolved around the house and the family and those dinner parties she put on for her father's business a.s.sociates. She'd let herself go, too. Her hair was too long and she didn't shop for herself often enough.

In the weeks that followed, Annie had done her utmost to bring her father home. She'd cried and pleaded and told him she'd make sure Bethanne did whatever was necessary to make him happy. In retrospect, Annie was embarra.s.sed by her behavior. She understood now that nothing she'd said had put a dent in his determination.

What hurt the most was discovering that he didn't even want to talk to her anymore, although they'd always been so close. Annie was convinced it was all lovely lovely Tiffany's fault. Tiffany's fault.

After she'd finished blaming her mother, Annie had turned her anger on the new woman in her father's life. The divorce was completely her fault, and if Annie could show her dad the truth about Tiffany, Grant would change his mind and come back to the family.

Annie had pulled some nasty tricks on the lovely lovely Tiffany, but they'd backfired. The only thing her efforts had accomplished was to upset her father and widen the rift between them. Tiffany, but they'd backfired. The only thing her efforts had accomplished was to upset her father and widen the rift between them.

With her mother a weakling and her father refusing to have anything to do with her, Annie had nearly self-destructed. Fortunately, Andrew had stepped in and, with Courtney's help, gotten her away from the dangerous path she'd chosen.

"You're quiet all of a sudden," her mother whispered.

Not wanting to confess where her mind had wandered, Annie said, "I had a thought."

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Funny one, Mom." Annie smiled into the dark.

"And? Want to share that thought?"

"Jason's actually really nice." Jason was more than nice; she'd probably try to keep this going, see where it went, although he lived in California and long-distance relationships were a drag.

"Do you know what you're going to tell Vance?" her mother asked.

"I think so." She paused. "Vance should've thought about being a third wheel when he agreed to go to Europe with Matt and Jessie," she began. "I've got more to do with my life than give up a whole month just so he doesn't feel lonely while he's away. He had his chance and he blew it."

"But you'd still like to be with him, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but for all the wrong reasons."

"Oh?"

"I want to be with him because we're comfortable together. Familiar. But that isn't a good enough basis for uprooting my whole life." The more Annie verbalized her thoughts, the more convinced she was that she'd made the right decision. And the more she felt that pursuing a relationship with Jason made sense. The very reason she'd had doubts about him-the fact that he wasn't Vance-was now why she wanted to see where a connection between them might lead.

"Can we go back to sleep now?"

"Okay," Annie said, but she didn't think she would.

Twenty-Four.

They stayed in New Orleans another day, and after a leisurely drive, got to Vero Beach late Monday afternoon. Bethanne hadn't heard from Max. She'd toyed with the idea of contacting him, but had resisted.

For now.

"I can't believe how much everything's changed," Ruth kept repeating as they made their way into town. On the drive down Route 60, she'd pointed left and right, shaking her head at what were once orange groves as far as the eye could see, but were now mostly housing developments and suburban sprawl.

"Call Royce," Annie said when they reached their hotel and had unpacked.

Ruth paced the room, nervously rubbing her palms. "You think I should?" she asked, looking at Bethanne. "I mean, so soon? We just got here."

"You said you would," Bethanne reminded her.

"Grandma," Annie groaned. "He's waiting to hear from you. Now call him!" Annie commanded, gesturing at the room's phone.

Ruth glanced uncertainly toward Bethanne, who nodded her encouragement.

"Okay...I will," Ruth declared, sounding more like a schoolgirl than a mature adult, "but if this turns out badly, I'll blame the two of you." She fixed them both with a shaky glare.

"It won't, I promise," Annie said with utter confidence.

Bethanne watched discreetly as Ruth sat on the bed and punched in Royce's number from a slip of paper in her purse. She held the receiver to her ear, clenching and unclenching her fist. In the silence Bethanne could hear the phone ring, followed by a man's voice answering.

"Royce, it's Ruth," she began, her own voice fluttering with anxiety. She rushed on. "My granddaughter thought I should let you know we made it here safely. We're in Vero Beach at the hotel the reunion committee recommended."

While Bethanne couldn't hear what Royce said, she saw from Ruth's reaction that he seemed pleased to have heard from her. Ruth hunched over, and Bethanne could see her smiling.

"Sure-but my daughter-in-law and granddaughter are with me. All right. Uh-huh...that would be very nice." She looked at Bethanne and Annie, who stood with their hands clasped as they awaited the outcome. "Okay, yes...that's very thoughtful. We'll see you soon." Ruth hung up the phone.

"Well?" Annie asked expectantly. She and Bethanne were staring at Ruth.

"He wants to take us all to dinner," Ruth said.

"All of us?" Bethanne asked to be sure she understood correctly. of us?" Bethanne asked to be sure she understood correctly.

"His grandson is with him, and he's bringing him along for you to meet."

Annie smiled, clearly intrigued by this unexpected turn of events. "Was he happy to hear from you?"

Ruth blushed. "I think so," she said.

"Told you," Annie crowed, collecting a fresh set of clothes and heading for the shower.

"I need to change, too." Ruth looked down at what she was wearing. She brushed an invisible speck of dirt from the front of her blouse. "I don't know if I'm ready to see Royce again," she muttered, her forehead wrinkling.

"Yes, you are," Bethanne insisted, amused and deeply touched at the sight of her mother-in-law in such a state.

Ruth immediately started riffling through her clothes, searching for the perfect outfit in which to rendezvous with her high school sweetheart. With both Annie and Ruth occupied, Bethanne grabbed her cell and stepped out onto the patio, closing the sliding gla.s.s door carefully behind her. The waves breaking on the beach were hypnotic, and the ocean breeze dispelled the intense heat and humidity of late afternoon.

Sitting in one of the patio chairs, Bethanne punched out Max's cell number. She had no idea if she'd reach him. If she didn't, she'd leave a message.

Max picked up on the fourth ring, just before the call went to voice mail.

"Max...it's Bethanne."

"Bethanne." His voice was low.

"Where are you?"

"On the way to California." He paused. "Are you in Florida yet?"

"We arrived about thirty minutes ago."

"Is Grant there?"

"Not yet. He's meeting us later." She didn't want to think about Grant right now. "How are you?"

"Miserable." He laughed hoa.r.s.ely.

"Are you really?" Bethanne hugged the phone tighter.

He muttered something under his breath. "You don't need to sound so happy about it."

"I can't help it. I'm feeling exactly the same without you."

"How was New Orleans?"

"We ate beignets at Cafe du Monde yesterday morning. Last night we listened to jazz on Bourbon Street. After that, I ended up drinking some wicked alcoholic concoction in a hurricane gla.s.s. It knocked me for a loop."

"You three didn't get into any trouble, did you?"

"None that I care to mention," she joked. "I'd always heard that New Orleans was famous for its food, and it was fantastic." She found herself chattering on. "Annie talked Ruth and me into trying a mint julep-"

Max snorted in amus.e.m.e.nt. "Were you able to walk back to the hotel afterward?"

"No..." Bethanne giggled. "We had to get a taxi."

She paused as their laughter died away, then said quietly, "I wish you'd been there."

"I do, too," he told her. "Maybe one day we'll go back together." Grant had said that, too.... Just then, Annie opened the sliding gla.s.s door, wearing a sleeveless summer dress Bethanne had never seen before. She must have purchased it in Branson.

"I need to go," Bethanne said hurriedly.

"I'm glad you called."

"I am, too. Give my best to Rooster."

As she ended the call, she experienced a piercing sense of loss. Instead of feeling better, she felt worse.

"Was that Max?" Annie asked.

Bethanne nodded.

"Dad called," Annie continued. "His flight landed on time and he's on his way to Vero."

"Okay."

"Grandma suggested he join us for dinner," Annie said, leaning against the gla.s.s door.

Bethanne's voice was cool. "What about the conference? Won't he be missing that?"

Annie shrugged. "You'll have to ask him."

For a moment, Bethanne wondered if there even was a conference. It had certainly come up very conveniently.

"Aren't you going to get ready for dinner?" Annie prompted.

Reluctantly, Bethanne stood up and prepared to go back inside the room.

"Mom," Annie murmured, putting a hand on her arm. "Grandma's pretty nervous about seeing Royce. You might want to help her."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Bethanne searched Annie's face.

"I don't know. You always managed with me." Annie smiled.

"But...Ruth isn't my daughter."

"Pretend she is." Annie glanced over her shoulder. "Someone's got to do something. She's pacing back and forth, and I'm afraid if she sprays on any more cologne she might set off the fire alarm."

Sure enough, Bethanne found her pacing the length of the room, pausing only to gnaw on her cuticles.

"Give me fifteen minutes," she told Ruth.

"Fifteen minutes for what?"

"To take a quick shower and change clothes."

"Then what?"

"Then I'm taking you to the bar."

"I can't let Royce find me in the bar!" she cried.

"Yes, you can." Bethanne adopted her firmest parental tone. "Now, don't argue with me."

Ruth stared at her like a forest animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.