Free A Turn in the Road by Debbie Macomber Page A

called and left a message on the woman’s voice mail. When she’d finished, she asked, “Do you want me to see about changing our hotel reservations?”
    â€œI’ve already made a deposit at the hotel in Spokane,” Ruth lamented.
    Bethanne hated to admit it, but even she was disappointed. She was enjoying the drive and it did seem a waste of time to arrive in Spokane for lunch and call it a day.
    â€œIt’s a chain hotel,” Annie said. “If there’s one in Pendleton, I bet they can switch reservations without a penalty.”
    Ruth was quiet for a moment. “Okay, call and see if the hotel is willing to do that.”
    â€œWhen you’re ready, give me the phone number.”
    Ruth rattled it off. Annie got through right away and made the arrangements. She disconnected, saying, “Done. The manager told me it wasn’t a problem.”
    â€œThat’s great,” Bethanne said, pleased her daughter was so technologically savvy. She had the same phone as Annie and Grant but couldn’t do nearly as much with it. The problem was that shehadn’t made the effort to learn. It seemed that whenever she got comfortable with her phone, it was time to upgrade and she’d have to learn a whole new process.
    â€œI wonder what Marie’s doing these days,” Ruth said thoughtfully.
    â€œWell, we’ll find out,” Annie responded.
    â€œWe can have a light lunch when we hit the Tri-cities,” Bethanne suggested, “and once we reach Pendleton we can look for the café your friend’s family owned.”
    â€œI’d like that,” Ruth said, “but we all know there’s no guarantee the café will still be there.”
    â€œRight, but we can look, can’t we?” Annie said. “Then, after we eat, can you show me the house you lived in when Dad was born?”
    â€œSure thing,” Ruth said, “but again you have to remember that was a long time ago.”
    Bethanne didn’t understand Annie’s sudden interest in her father’s birthplace. Ruth, however, seemed happy to stroll down memory lane. Annie was encouraging her, and this exchange of questions and anecdotes was probably good for both of them.
    Annie’s cell phone rang when they stopped for lunch in Richland. They found a chain restaurant off the freeway and each ordered soup.
    â€œOh, hi, Dad,” Annie said, and her gaze immediately went to Bethanne. “Yeah, we’re in Richland.” She smiled and added, “We made good time. Mom’s driving—and guess what?”
    Bethanne was determined not to listen, but she couldn’t avoid hearing Annie’s side of the conversation.
    â€œMom’s right here. Do you want to talk to her?”
    Bethanne shook her head vigorously. Annie ignored her reaction and handed over the cell.
    Reluctantly, Bethanne accepted it. “Hello, Grant,” she said without enthusiasm.
    â€œYou turned your cell phone off,” he said, although his words lacked any real censure.
    â€œI’m driving,” she pointed out. The rental car didn’t have a Bluetooth connection.
    â€œThat’s what Annie said.”
    Silence.
    â€œHow’s it going so far?”
    â€œFine.” She resisted telling him that they’d left just that morning and were only about two hundred miles from Seattle.
    â€œWhat’s this I hear about you spending the night in Pendleton? Did you know I was born there?”
    If she’d forgotten, she’d received plenty of reminders in the past few hours. “Annie mentioned it.” Bethanne wondered if Grant had put their daughter up to this. She was well aware that Annie had her own agenda. But then, perhaps she was becoming paranoid.
    â€œI hoped you’d call and check in every now and then,” he said in a hurt-little-boy voice that was meant to elicit sympathy.
    â€œYou should talk to Annie or your mother,” she told him.