Ten Beach Road (30 page)

There was no response.

“I get that a horrible thing has happened. I know you feel guilty about all those losses and that not having a job has thrown you. But you have to get up and help.” She paused, concentrating on not letting her voice break. Crying would be pointless; if ever there was a time for tough love, it was now. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” That was it. Nothing else.

“You need to get up off that couch and get back in our life,” she said. “We need you.”

The breathing stopped for a second; there was the slightest hitch before it resumed, but he didn’t speak. She had no doubt Edna was hovering protectively nearby. The image of their son being forced to crouch next to his father, holding the phone in place, summoned back the anger that she needed.

“You know what?” she said, no longer weighing each word before she uttered it. “The man I married was not a quitter. He was not someone who would abandon his wife and children in an emergency.” She drew a breath, forcing herself to continue, giving free rein to her hurt and anger so that there could be no doubt in his mind that she meant what she said.

“And in case you need something to think about, you can think about what I’ve been doing down here. I’ve been sleeping on a mattress on the floor and fighting complete strangers for bathroom time in the only bathroom that works. I’ve worked ten-hour days scrubbing and cleaning a seven-thousand-square-foot home that hasn’t had a two-legged resident or a lick of attention in years. I’ve been on scaffolding re-glazing windows and removing doors and hardware and polishing them until my hands are numb. I’ve been pinching our pennies so tightly that Abraham Lincoln’s face is imprinted on my fingers.”

There was no response, but she could feel him listening. His breathing sounded labored in her ear.

“And you know what the worst part is?” Emotion clogged her throat and turned her voice ragged. “I sat alone at the doctor’s office with our pregnant daughter who wouldn’t even let me go in with her and insists on believing that Daniel Deranian is going to show up here and carry her off to happily-ever-after land.” She swallowed again, but her throat burned with all the words that spewed out. “She barely talks to me anymore because I don’t believe that’s going to happen.”

She sat for a moment staring out the window through the sheen of tears, gathering herself, waiting once more for a response that never came.

“I love you,” she said, a new resolve growing inside her. “And I love the life we’ve shared. I’ve always assumed we’d be together until the end. But you need to get your shit together now and help our family get back on its feet. I’ll expect you down here ready to help put the finishing touches on Bella Flora by early August. Or . . .” She barely hesitated as the ultimate ultimatum formed on her lips. “Or I’m going to file for divorce.”

Both of them stopped breathing then as they absorbed the threat. But still he said nothing. Even in her shock at what she’d said, she recognized that the threat could not be an idle one. Quietly she hung up the phone.

 

 

Maddie’s hands shook as she made a fresh pot of coffee, refilled the sugar bowl, and set out a new carton of nondairy creamer. The kitchen began to fill up with coffee seekers—first Chase and Robby, then Avery. Deirdre came down dressed and made-up and settled at the table with the morning crossword puzzle. Nicole returned from her run.

Normally, Madeline enjoyed everyone congregating around the coffeepot before the workday began, but she still felt raw and uncertain in the wake of her conversation with Steve. “Please, God,” she murmured to herself as she set out a bowl of fruit. “Help him get it together. Don’t let me have to carry out my threat.”

Kyra was the last one down. Ignoring Maddie, she set her video camera on the table then went into the refrigerator for a glass of orange juice. Maddie pushed the fruit bowl, which she kept stocked, toward her daughter, but Kyra ignored that, too.

“How’d you sleep, Ky?” In the wake of the ob-gyn visit and the whole YouTube debacle, Kyra had not been overtly nasty but maintained just enough emotional distance to let Maddie know she’d screwed up.

Kyra spent a good bit of time surfing the Internet architectural salvage sites when some knob or pull or another needed to be matched, and putting together a Bella Flora “sales piece.” Maddie had made it a point not to look for her postings on YouTube, but Avery, who did, said Kyra was honoring their ban on extreme close-ups and had dialed back the sarcasm to an acceptable level.

“Fine.” Kyra moved toward the table where Nicole sipped a morning smoothie.

“Look, Kyra, I’m sorry.” Maddie had lost track of the number of times she’d tried to apologize; she was so tired of being made to always feel in the wrong.

“I said I slept fine.” Kyra kept her back to Maddie, plopping down into a seat next to Avery, who was peeling off the wrapper from a granola bar. “What do you need me to do today?”

“I was thinking we could get more of the doors out of the way if we set up an actual assembly line. Nicole strips,” Avery said, nodding Nicole’s way. “I sand and repair. You apply the finish. We’ve got plenty of sawhorses and we can set up in the shade of the reclinada.” She nodded out the window toward the triple palm to the west of the pool. The doors waiting to be refinished were stacked on the loggia. “I’ve got a mask you can wear and some heavy gloves.”

“Sure,” Kyra said at the same time Maddie said, “No, she can’t.”

Chase sighed as he reached for a granola bar and Maddie waited for him to object to Avery organizing his grunts, but all he said was, “I was hoping someone else had made the doughnut run. These bars are way too small.” He held up the shiny wrapper with pastel script lettering. “And . . . girly.”

“Feel free to eat before you come,” Avery said. “But just for the record, granola bars are not gender specific.” She turned to Madeline. “Why can’t Kyra do the finishing?”

“Yeah, Mom.” Kyra taunted. “Why not?” She threw her an angry look, but it was laced with hurt.

“Because Kyra can’t work with chemicals right now.” Maddie wished she could simply walk out the front door and head out to the beach, which she’d discovered was far more soothing than the “downward dog” she’d practiced in yoga. She’d hoped to keep Kyra’s pregnancy to themselves for at least another few weeks; could she face this conversation on top of the ultimatum she’d launched at Steve? They all stared at her expectantly. Did she have a choice?

“Because she’s pregnant,” Madeline said into the questioning silence.

“Oh!” Avery and Deirdre exclaimed.

“Wow,” Nicole said.

Chase reached for and unwrapped another granola bar.

“It’s not a good idea to expose the baby to chemicals,” Maddie said. It was her turn to stare at Kyra. “I imagine the doctor must have mentioned that.”

“Congratulations,” Chase said easily. But then he was not only male but the father of sons.

“Yes, I guess congratulations are in order?” Avery looked between Kyra and Maddie.

“Yeah, that’s, um, really great,” Nicole said. “When are you due?”

“In November,” Kyra said, accepting hugs from both of them.

Maddie frowned. Where would they all be at Thanksgiving? Would this chapter be over? The house finished and sold? The money deposited and their debts paid off?

“As you can see by her expression, my mother’s not too excited about the whole idea.” Kyra was going for flip, but her voice wobbled.

“Oh, Kyra that’s not fair. I just think . . .” Maddie began.

They all waited to hear what she thought, but the right words, if they existed, didn’t come. She so didn’t want to introduce Daniel Deranian’s name into the conversation or mention that her daughter was living in the land of denial. “It’s just that she’s not married and she’s so young.” Maddie was no longer sure who she was trying to convince. “And she has no idea what she’s in for.”

Chase snorted. “No one ever does.”

“No,” Deirdre agreed. “It can be so overwhelming. I was twenty-one when I got married and twenty-two when Avery was born. I wasn’t ready for . . . any of it.”

Avery’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t realize there was an ‘optional’ clause in the parenting contract,” she said. “But Deirdre always did know how to work the fine print.”

“I understand that you’re not wild to have me here,” Deirdre said. “I freely admit I haven’t been much of a mother, and certainly not the mother you deserved.”

She paused, looking at her daughter.

“If you’re waiting for an argument from me, you’re going to be waiting a long damned time,” Avery said. “I don’t know why you’ve pushed your way into this project, but you’re not going to be able to design yourself back into my life, Deirdre. It’s way too late for that.”

Maddie watched Avery toss salvos at her mother and wondered if they hurt Deirdre as much as Kyra’s hurt her. The designer didn’t flinch, but that said more about her self-control than her feelings.

Madeline had always been Kyra and Andrew’s mother first; it was how she’d thought of herself and how the rest of the world had defined her. She’d been there for her children and always would be. But did that mean she had to pretend that she was unequivocally happy that Kyra was pregnant? Did being supportive demand that she also keep silent?

“I just don’t think Kyra realizes how huge a responsibility this is going to be or how completely it will change her life. And to do it all alone . . .” Maddie’s voice trailed off at the enormity of it.

Kyra’s face closed, her shoulders stiffened.

“Your mother’s right,” Nicole said quietly. “Being a single parent is one of the hardest things there is. It’s huge.”

“Surely the baby’s father will accept responsibility?” Chase said, not sounding sure at all. He tossed the last granola wrapper in the trash and poured himself another cup of coffee. “If he doesn’t understand how many people it takes to create a child, I’ll be happy to explain it to him.”

Maddie blinked in surprise and saw a similar expression on Avery’s face.

“You all don’t need to be talking about me as if I’m not here,” Kyra said. “I’m here. And I’m sure the father of my child will want to be involved.”

Madeline closed her eyes against Kyra’s childlike certainty. She’d had the same tone in her voice at seven when she’d insisted on staying up all night to catch a glimpse of the tooth fairy. And at thirteen when she’d been convinced that the animated short she’d managed to shoot and cut together, could, in fact, be entered in the Sundance Film Festival. “Kyra, please,” Maddie whispered. “It’s not a good idea to mention that . . .”

Kyra got up from the table and stood where everyone could see her. “What my mother doesn’t want me to tell you—or anyone—is that Daniel Deranian is the father of my child.”

If anyone’s attention had been about to wander, that simple statement brought all eyes and ears back to Kyra. Nicole winced, but didn’t speak.

“Daniel Deranian, the actor?” Avery asked.

Kyra nodded. “My mother’s convinced that because he’s a celebrity I can’t possibly mean anything to him. She believes that I was a . . . convenience . . . on the set and that he has no feelings for me and certainly no honorable intentions.” Her jaw tightened. “That’s how much my mother thinks of me.”

“I never said that,” Madeline protested. “I only . . .”

“I happen to know that Daniel loves me. And I know he’ll want to be a part of our lives.” Kyra’s hand slipped to her rounding stomach.

Madeline stole a look at the now-familiar faces around them and saw everything from surprise to the same doubt she felt. Kyra was just too young to see her situation ending in anything less than a happily ever after.

“Daniel will be on the next plane here. Or sending his private jet to pick me up.” She smiled the confident smile of a foolish child. “Just as soon as I get through to him.”

Madeline could hardly bear to contemplate what would happen when and if Kyra actually got through to Deranian. The man was used to people covering for and taking care of him, and he did, in fact, have a wife regardless of where she’d chosen to live.

“I’d be careful not to get on the wrong side of Tonja Kay,” Nicole said. “That woman has a reputation for being even stronger in person than she is in the roles she plays.”

“Well,” Madeline said, drawing another angry glare from her daughter, “until that plane arrives I think it would be best if we keep this information to ourselves.”

Kyra grabbed her camera and left the kitchen, clearly incensed. Maddie followed her, hoping to smooth things over, but not until she’d gotten a nod of agreement from the others. Though, of course, a nod of silence wasn’t exactly binding.

But then, what was?

“What was that?” Nicole leaped out of bed and raced to the window. She stared out not over the bay where the sun was still inching upward but down into the front garden where an army seemed to be massing. An army of people with white hair and really bad taste in clothing. She heard footsteps in the hall and threw open her door but knew she was too late when the bathroom door slammed shut. Avery and Madeline already stood in line. Five women and one bathroom belonged in the category of cruel and inhuman punishment. This house needed to be closed down like Gitmo.

Maddie shot her an apologetic smile.

“We let Kyra go ahead since she’s pregnant,” Avery said, not looking at all put out. But then she was first in line.

“Good God. I’d get pregnant myself if it would get me to the front of the bathroom line,” Nikki muttered.

“I don’t think you can do that yourself. Didn’t we establish that the other day in the kitchen?” Deirdre came out of the master bedroom fully dressed and made-up. If Nikki hadn’t personally delivered the master bathroom hardware to the King of Chrome, she would have suspected the designer of secretly convincing Robby to get her bathroom up and running. Through the closed bedroom door, Nikki could hear the whir of the window air conditioner Deirdre had had delivered and installed.