The photographers showed up around one and everyone gathered for the big photo shoot. Bethanne noticed that Grant remained in the background as much as possible, although he did spend some time talking to her father and his lady friend, Suzette, who’d arrived in Seattle that very morning and had rushed to the church.
Fifteen minutes before the ceremony was to begin, Bethanne, Courtney and the matron of honor, along with the three bridesmaids, assembled in a small room off the church foyer. Bethanne could hear the guests arriving.
If she survived this day it would be a miracle. Of all the hundreds of events she’d worked on through the years, the one that frayed her nerves the most was her own son’s wedding.
“There’s something you should know,” Courtney said as Bethanne adjusted her veil.
Her future daughter-in-law looked so serious that Bethanne paused and lowered her hands. “Oh?”
“Andrew sent Max an invitation to the wedding. He felt it was the least we could do after he gave us the wine.”
“And he didn’t think to tell me?”
“He was going to, but, well, he wasn’t sure how you’d react. We knew Grant wouldn’t be pleased but Andrew said he really didn’t care.”
Bethanne inhaled a calming breath. If she was nervous before, this news set her completely on edge. Max could very well be in the church right now!
“Mom?” Annie stepped toward her. “You okay?”
She forced herself to nod. “Andrew invited Max to the wedding.”
“He did?”
Bethanne clasped her hands.
“Are you glad?”
Bethanne suddenly broke into a huge smile. “Yes…very glad. I know that disappoints you, Annie….”
“No,” her daughter said, stopping her. “It doesn’t. I could see it wasn’t really working with you and Dad. You both wanted it to, especially Dad, but it’s too late.”
Her daughter had recognized that almost before Bethanne did. “I’ll talk to your father after the wedding.”
“All I ever really wanted was for you to be happy, Mom.”
“I know.”
“Don’t worry about Dad. He’ll be fine.”
Bethanne was convinced of that, as well.
Just knowing Max would probably appear at some point during the day filled her with a sense of joy, of anticipation and excitement—and it did nothing to calm her nerves.
To her delight, the wedding ceremony went perfectly. Bethanne dabbed at her eyes when Andrew and Courtney promised to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. Grant looked over at her as if remembering the day he’d spoken those same vows. She saw the pain in his eyes and knew how deeply he regretted having broken that promise. She smiled at him, telling him he was forgiven. And this time she meant that wholeheartedly, without reservations or lingering resentments.
Annie rode with Bethanne to the reception, which was being held at the Century Club. Years earlier, Bethanne had been a member and supporter of the club and, because of her association with it, was able to secure the hall. It was a Victorian building in the middle of the city, with five acres of manicured gardens and lawns. As far as she could tell, Max hadn’t attended the ceremony, although she’d looked for him.
“Mom, did you see how happy Grandma is with Royce?” Annie asked.
“How can anyone avoid seeing it? I’m so pleased for your grandmother.” Robin, however, hadn’t taken the news of her mother’s impending nuptials with good grace. Suspicious by nature, she’d demanded a background check, an idea Ruth had bluntly rejected.
Although she was preoccupied with keeping an eye out for Max, Bethanne managed to smile and exchange greetings throughout the meal. She moved from table to table, welcoming their guests. She lost track of Grant, but later noticed him making the rounds, too. When she could, she’d find a moment to talk to him about Max’s invitation.
The best man offered the toast and the band began to play. Andrew had just escorted his bride onto the dance floor when Bethanne saw a figure standing in the back of the room.
Max.
She blinked, excitement mingling with joy.
This wasn’t the Max she knew who wore chaps and a leather jacket. This wasn’t the Max of simple needs and simple tastes, content to live life on the road. This was Max in a suit and tie. A man of sophistication and finesse and power. And yet…he was still Max. The Max she loved.
Drawn as if by invisible strings, she walked toward him.
He walked toward her.
They met halfway across the room, which was now crowded with dancing couples. They stood motionless, facing each other.
“You did come,” she whispered, hardly able to believe he was there.
“Would you rather I left and we talked later?”
“No…stay, please stay.” She reached for his hand and held it in both of hers.
Thirty-Five
Grant saw Bethanne approach the other man and instinctively realized he must be Max Scranton. Anger surged through him but as he started across the room his son placed one hand on his shoulder.
“What are you doing, Dad?”
“That’s Max! How dare he show up here.” The anger burned even hotter inside him.
“I sent him an invitation.”
Grant felt as if his own son had thrust a knife in his back. He stared at Andrew, shocked that he’d betrayed him in this way.
“Why?” He choked out the question. Did Andrew hate him that much?