A Turn in the Road. Debbie Macomber

       www.mirabooks.co.uk

      With heartfelt appreciation to Nancy Berland

      who has helped me navigate every turn in the road

      in my publishing career

      Dear Friends,

      My husband, Wayne, and I love road trips. Because we have two homes, one in Washington State and the other in Florida, we drive back and forth twice a year. In case you’re interested, that’s 3,323 miles, door to door. Wayne plans the route and we’ve visited nearly every state between Washington and Florida. Perhaps because of that, I’ve always wanted to write a book that involved a cross-country drive.

      Since I first wrote A Good Yarn, which introduced the character Bethanne Hamlin, she’s been on my mind. When her husband left her and their family for a younger woman, Bethanne was devastated and eventually joined a knitting class as a kind of therapy. The friends she made in Lydia’s yarn store helped her deal with the abrupt change in her life.

      The idea for Bethanne’s party business actually came from my daughter, Jenny Adele, who held a wonderfully creative party for our oldest grandson when he turned eight. They were living on a one-family income, so money was tight. Using her imagination and playing on Cameron’s interest in the army, she mailed out draft notices as party invitations. Then my son-in-law designed an obstacle course on their property. Adding to the fun, my oldest son, Ted, a former Army Ranger, provided camouflage makeup and MREs. The boys had the time of their lives and the entire party cost little more than a cake mix and a few stamps.

      I was proud of Bethanne and the success of her business and I wanted to do more with this character. I didn’t like Grant, her ex-husband, the first time around, but when he reappeared in A Turn in the Road he was much more sympathetic. He’s recognised his mistake and wants his family back. This is a difficult decision for Bethanne. As it happens, she has an opportunity to travel across the country with her daughter and her ex-mother-in-law. Three generations of women each facing … a turn in the road. By the way, if you’re a committed film buff, you may notice that I’ve moved the release date of Breakfast at Tiffany’s forward by a few months. I took this liberty because—well, frankly, it worked for the story.

      As always, I’m eager to hear from my readers. You can reach me in two ways: either by logging on to my website at www.DebbieMacomber.com and signing the guestbook, or by contacting me at PO Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA.

      Warmly,

      One

      “I think Dad wants to get back together.” Bethanne’s daughter, Annie, spoke with studied nonchalance. “He still loves you, Mom.”

      Bethanne’s spoon hovered over her bowl of soup as they sat at a window table in theirfavorite café. This wasn’t actually news and shouldn’t have come as any surprise. Didn’t come as any surprise. She’d seen the signs, as recently as this morning. These days Grant was inventing excuses to call her.

      Six years ago her world had imploded when her husband confessed that he’d fallen in love with another woman. With barely a backward glance, Grant had walked out—out of their home, their marriage, their lives. And now he wanted back in.

      “Don’t you have anything to say?” Annie asked, toying with her fork. She watched her mother intently.

      “Not really.” She swallowed the soup and lowered her spoon for another taste.

      Annie, it seemed, had forgotten. But not Bethanne.

      The morning Grant told her he wanted a divorce would stay in her mind forever. He couldn’t seem to get away from her fast enough. He’d retained a lawyer and advised her to do the same, then coldly informed her that all future communication would be through their lawyers. The less contact with her and their children, the better, he’d said. A clean break was best.

      Grant’s decision had struck Bethanne with the force and unpredictability of a hurricane. She’d stumbled blindly through the next few months, trying to hold her family together, clinging to the semblance of normality while her world disintegrated around her. “You really don’t have anything to say?” Annie prodded.

      “No,” Bethanne said shortly. She swallowed another spoonful of soup and reached for the herb scone. “What disturbs me is that your father would let you do his talking for him.”

      Annie had the grace to look chastened, but she pushed her food away as if she’d suddenly lost her appetite.

      At one time Bethanne had dreamed Grant would regret what he’d done, that he’d seek her forgiveness and come crawling back to her. She’d wanted him to suffer for the way he’d treated her, for the hurt he’d inflicted when he’d turned his back on their children.

      But in the years since the divorce, Bethanne had gradually found her footing and, in the process, discovered a self she didn’t know existed—a stronger, independent Bethanne, a woman forged in the fire of despair. Now her two children were on their own; her oldest, Andrew, was engaged to be married in a few weeks, following his graduation from law school. As for her daughter, Annie was a year from obtaining her MBA. She worked part-time with Bethanne on the creative end of the party business Bethanne had established in the wake of her divorce.

      During her twenty years of marriage, Bethanne had become known for her lavish and inventive parties. She’d taken pride in making Grant

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