A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)

A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8) Page 41

Royce had contacted a number of their high school friends in town, including Jane and Diane. Meanwhile, Annie, Craig and Grant had been busy decorating the hotel restaurant’s private room, recreating prom night with the theme of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, the same as it’d been fifty years earlier.

“I think it’s time you spilled the beans,” Ruth said, planting her feet squarely on the sidewalk and refusing to budge.

Annie’s shoulders heaved in a sigh. “I guess we might as well,” she said, glancing at Bethanne.

“I suppose you’re right,” Bethanne agreed, trying not to smile.

“Okay,” Annie said, looking at her grandmother. “Craig and I were talking and I asked him if he knew what happened the night of your senior prom.”

“He did,” Bethanne added, “because he was well aware of what a disaster it turned out to be.”

“And I was thinking,” Annie said, picking up the story, “what a shame it was that the two of you were so disappointed. Then Craig said it was too bad we couldn’t turn back the clock and do it all over again.”

Annie threw her hands in the air as if that was explanation enough.

“That’s when the two of them came to Grant and me,” Bethanne said.

“With the idea of redoing prom night for you and Royce.” Annie’s face glowed with pride. “Only this time we’re going to make sure everything goes perfectly.”

“Redoing prom night,” Ruth repeated.

“So right now we’re taking you to pick up your prom dress.”

“Pick it up? My goodness, I can’t imagine where that old dress went…. The rain must have ruined it. In any case, I don’t recall ever seeing it again. And need I mention that it most likely wouldn’t fit even if I could locate it?”

“Royce had a picture your mother took that night. Apparently, you’d given it to him.”

What he didn’t know was that Bethanne and Grant had that photograph blown up so the couple would see themselves at seventeen and eighteen as they walked into the prom.

“I found a dress shop here in Vero,” Annie said. “I showed them the photo and asked if they had any dresses similar to the one in the photograph.”

“They couldn’t have anything close to that dress.” Ruth shook her head. “Fashion’s changed a lot over the years.”

“You’re right, they didn’t.” Bethanne was eager to fill in the details. “But they knew of a secondhand shop that had high-end wear at reasonable prices and, well, I found a gown with an empire waist and took it to the seamstress who works at that dress shop…and all I can say is that she’s very talented.”

Ruth looked stunned.

“Come on, Grandma,” Annie said, urging her grandmother along the sidewalk. “We haven’t got all afternoon, you know.”

“We need you to try on the dress first,” Bethanne told her.

“First?”

“Yes. You have a hair and nail appointment next.”

“Hair and nails,” Ruth echoed as though in a trance. “I feel like someone needs to pinch me. Is this really happening?”

“It’s really happening,” Annie said gleefully.

“And Royce knows about this?”

“Yes, some of it, but only because we needed his cooperation. We didn’t tell him until we had everything in place.”

“Royce wants to do this?”

“He does.” Bethanne slipped an arm around her and guided Ruth toward the dress shop. “He knows and approves.”

“He’s excited, Grandma. He always felt bad about how that night turned out.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“He told me how wonderful you were,” Bethanne said. “You could’ve been really unpleasant about it but you weren’t.”

The owner of the dress shop met them at the door and held it open. “I think this is a delightful idea,” she said, welcoming them inside. She led them to the back where the seamstress stood waiting.

“This way,” she said, and gestured toward one of the dressing rooms.

Ruth started inside—and stopped. Then, looking over her shoulder, she stared at Bethanne and Annie. “Why, it’s almost identical to my dress the night of the prom. Even the bow is the same.” The lavender, floor-length empire-waist dress with its straight skirt and cap sleeves resembled the dress in the photograph to a remarkable degree. The seamstress had done exquisite work.

“Oh, Ruth,” Bethanne breathed once her mother-in-law had tried on the dress. “You’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Annie nodded. “Grandma, this is going to be a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this for Royce and me,” Ruth said tearfully.

“Mom and Dad worked really hard on this,” Annie told her.

Rarely had Bethanne seen her daughter happier. It wasn’t until she’d overheard Annie talking to Grant the day before that she understood why. In Annie’s eyes the fact that Grant and Bethanne were getting along so well meant a reconciliation was imminent.

Until then, Bethanne hadn’t fully accepted that her attitude toward Grant had changed. Without realizing it, she’d lowered her guard and allowed herself to become vulnerable to him. That recognition gave her pause. They’d worked together, running all over town, and had frequent “strategy” discussions. They’d laughed until they were giddy, and sipped wine until she felt light-headed. When Grant kissed her goodbye she could almost believe the divorce had never happened.

If it was possible to turn back the clock for Ruth, could she do it for herself and Grant, too? Bethanne didn’t know.

Glancing at her watch, she clapped her hands. “We have places to go and people to see,” she said, dismissing her thoughts. She couldn’t let herself get sidetracked. Not right now. She had too much to do.

By seven on Saturday, just six days before the actual reunion, all the preparations for the prom had been made. Royce and Grant were at his house, where the car was due to arrive any minute, while Bethanne kept Ruth company at the hotel.

Bethanne had purchased a party dress of her own at the secondhand shop. A frilly dress that was the kind of outfit Brenda Lee or Connie Francis might have worn, with a short skirt flaring out from the waist. A wide silk ribbon belted around her middle set off the strapless top.

“I feel seventeen all over again,” Ruth said, running a hand along the front of her gown.

“Good,” Bethanne said. “We want you to feel young and in love for your senior prom.”

“Oh, Bethanne, I do. I really do. Royce is just the way I remember him…and so much more. I think I’m falling in love again.”

“All we want is for you to be happy, Ruth.”

“I know, and I appreciate that more than I can say.”

Bethanne couldn’t recall a time she’d seen Ruth this excited.

A knock sounded at the door, and Bethanne answered it to find Royce standing on the other side, dressed in a tuxedo and holding a wrist corsage in his hand.

“Is Ruth here?” he asked.

Ruth stepped forward and Royce’s jaw sagged. “Ruth, my goodness, that’s the same dress you wore the night of our prom.”

“It isn’t the same dress. It’s a re-creation…. Annie and Bethanne arranged this.”

He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. “There’s a car waiting for us outside,” he mumbled.

“A car?” Ruth asked. She gave Bethanne a puzzled look. “I thought you said the prom was taking place right here at the hotel.”

“It is,” Bethanne responded in a whisper. “Just go with him.”

“Okay,” Ruth whispered back.

Royce helped her with her corsage, and Ruth pinned on the boutonniere Bethanne had ordered earlier. She walked them through the lobby and out the door, where the young chauffeur stood by the limousine. As soon as they appeared, he made a sweeping motion with his arm and held the back door open.

Royce handed Ruth inside and then hurried around the car. When they’d driven off, Grant showed up. “Where are they going?” Bethanne asked.

“For a ride down Ocean Drive,” he said. “Things weren’t quite ready yet, so we needed them to kill about fifteen minutes. Besides, the limo ride is part of the experience.”

Bethanne followed Grant through the restaurant, where they attracted quite a few curious glances. With Grant attired in a suit and jacket, and she in her short, frilly dress, they must have looked like actors who’d stepped off the stage of a Broadway play about the 1960s.

Annie dashed toward her when Bethanne entered the room. “What do you think, Mom?” she asked eagerly.

Bethanne drew in her breath as she proceeded through an archway of colorful balloons. Annie, Grant and Craig had done a marvelous job. The band—five musicians and a lead singer—were off to one side behind a waist-high barrier of red velvet with “Class of 1961” emblazoned in gold lettering across the front. Several small tables, with lamps on each one, were artfully arranged around the room.

Other couples started to arrive, and the photographer came forward to snap their pictures.

Annie greeted each couple, giving them a printed program and offering the women a dance card.

“Everything looks so real,” Bethanne told Grant. “I feel like a time traveler.” The life-size photograph of Royce and Ruth was propped against one wall, framed by tiny twinkling lights.

“Just wait until the king and queen are crowned.”

“Oh-h.” Bethanne brought one hand to her mouth. She hadn’t thought of that, but Grant had. They’d worked together to make this happen for Ruth and Royce, put aside their differences and become a team again. Even a few months ago, she wouldn’t have believed it possible, wouldn’t have believed they were capable of accomplishing this evening.

When the starring couple arrived, the band began to play, and almost before she was aware of it, Bethanne found herself in Grant’s arms as he led her onto the small, makeshift dance floor.

“That’s ‘Moon River.’ It’s the theme song from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Andy Williams sang it the night I went to the concert with Grandma in Branson,” Annie said as she and Royce’s grandson glided past Bethanne and Grant.

“Apparently, Andy made an impression on our daughter,” Grant said, smiling down at her.

“So it seems.”

“Does it feel like high school all over again?” he asked, his head close to hers.

Bethanne nodded. “It’s an amazing night.”

“And it’s only just begun,” Grant murmured.

She couldn’t imagine what else he had planned. But she was about to find out….

About an hour into the night, the band paused and Grant walked to the stage and reached for the microphone.

“The time has come to crown the king and queen of prom night,” he said, sounding every bit the professional spokesperson. “I know the suspense is almost more than we can bear.”