His words didn’t give much hope. “Goodbye, Beth.” That didn’t sound much like a, “Call me and we’ll talk about this.” But what did she have to lose? And, okay, she knew he wouldn’t want to talk to her, but she owed him an explanation. And thanks. God, she owed him so much.
Surely she could manage one phone call without crying and embarrassing them both.
Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she started to punch in his number and stopped, staring at the clock on the tiny screen. Four o’clock in the morning? He was already angry. Waking him up at this hour would be insane. She tried to laugh and failed, then dialed again, a different number on the West Coast. Her night-owl mom would still be up at one a.m.
“Mom?”
“Bethy. Oh, honey, I’m so glad you called.” Her mother’s voice, usually
