Ten Beach Road (33 page)

“Goodness, we’re thirsty tonight.” Nikki refilled her glass to the brim.

“That’s an understatement.” Maddie felt as if she could drink a Gulf full of daiquiris and still be thirsty for more.

Avery raised her glass toward the setting sun. “Well, I think we should toast having the air-conditioning up and running. And our second bathroom. Even if I do have to share it with Deirdre. Who, by the way, owns more makeup and beauty products with the word ‘antiaging’ on them than Nikki, which I didn’t think was possible.”

Nicole laughed. Maddie managed a small smile. “To the air-conditioning and the bathroom,” they said. “And to Alfred, the King of Chrome.”

“And to Maddie,” Nikki added. “Who needs to tell us what’s wrong.”

In the fading light, Madeline looked out over the sea oats and the jetty. It was hot and muggy, the breeze off the Gulf thick with heat and salt. “Let’s just say I’d be pretty hard-pressed to come up with one good thing tonight.”

A Cheez Doodle crunched nearby and Avery lifted the bowl as if it contained an offering from the gods. Maddie had no appetite.

“Is it Kyra?” Nicole asked. “Because I think she should be grateful she has a family to turn to. I could have a talk with her if you like.”

“Thanks.” Maddie tried to picture what that talk would be like. “But she’s just a part of it. Everything feels completely out of whack. Especially my relationship with Steve.” She hadn’t had a real conversation with him in so long she wasn’t even sure they still had a “relationship.”

“When do you think he might come down?” Avery asked. “Is it hard for him to get away?”

For a moment Maddie thought about making up some excuse, trying to change the whole sorry topic. But the concern in her partners’ eyes demanded her honesty.

“No,” she said. “It’s hard for him to get up off the couch.”

For a moment she wasn’t sure if she’d actually said it out loud. A look at her partners’ faces confirmed that she had.

“Is he sick?” Avery asked tentatively.

Maddie sighed. Setting her empty glass down, she wrapped her arms around herself and stared down into her lap.

“In a way,” Maddie said. “He lost his job last fall and he hasn’t been the same since he told me in March.”

“You didn’t know?”

“No.” Maddie realized how bizarre it sounded. She still couldn’t believe how much Steve had kept from her. “He just kept getting dressed and leaving every day. I had no idea.” Her eyes blurred with tears.

“Wow,” Avery said.

“And then once he told me, once he could stop pretending, it was like he just gave up. And then his mother came to live with us.” Maddie tried to sound matter of fact, but could tell she was failing miserably.

“There’s a lot of that going around,” Avery said. “And it’s definitely not a good thing.”

Now that she’d begun talking Maddie couldn’t seem to stop. All of it came pouring out of her as she talked and sipped from an always-full glass; Steve’s loss of job, loss of all that money, loss of himself. Edna and her enabling. Andrew. Kyra. There wasn’t one thing she could think of that seemed to have a bright side.

“Maybe you should go up there and drag him to a psychiatrist or something?” Nikki asked.

“I tried that. I actually got him to one appointment and he wouldn’t talk to the doctor. Two hundred and fifty dollars and he didn’t say a word. I had another one scheduled for him after I came down here, but he refused to go.”

She held her glass out for another drink. Somehow numb from alcohol seemed preferable to numb from despair.

“There must be something else you can try,” Avery said.

“What I tried was divorce.”

Two sets of eyes riveted to her own.

“The last time we talked—well, we didn’t really talk; I had to have Andrew hold the phone up to Steve’s ear—I told him that he needed to get it together.”

“That’s good,” Avery said.

“And then I told him that if he wasn’t down here ready to help us by the first week of August, that I was filing for divorce.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Maddie still couldn’t believe it.

“Did it work?” Nicole asked.

“I don’t know. I’m going to call and check in in a few days, but I may not really know for sure until he shows up.” Maddie could barely see through the unshed tears. “Or doesn’t.”

They continued to drink, stopping only long enough for Nicole to make another pitcher of daiquiris. As they drank and talked a cocoon of comfort began to wrap itself around her. Sharing her worries seemed to dissipate them. Or maybe it was the alcohol.

“I hate to offer advice,” Nicole said. “I’m really good at bringing people together, but not so good at getting and staying married. I married two men I shouldn’t have and for all the wrong reasons.” She shook her head, regret on her face. “I don’t really have the first idea how couples stay married as long as you have. You wouldn’t have made it for . . . how long has it been?”

“Twenty-five years.” Just saying it made Maddie want to cry.

“You wouldn’t have been together for twenty-five years if there wasn’t something major still there.” Her gaze shifted from Maddie’s before she said, “I think you did the right thing. Even when they hurt you or behave in ways you don’t understand, you can’t give up on the people you love.”

The cocoon became gauzier, hazier. Madeline noticed a mosquito hovering around the rim of Nicole’s glass and told it to get lost.

“Well, sometimes they give up on you.” Avery downed the remainder of her drink and held it out for a refill. “And it sucks big time.”

“Are you talking about Deirdre?” Maddie asked. Even in the blessed fog that seemed to be enveloping her, she could not imagine how anyone could walk away from their child.

“Always,” Avery said. “I can tell she thinks she can make me understand it, but there’s nothing that she can say that will excuse her running out on us. Nothing.”

They mulled that one over, although Maddie’s brain seemed to be mulling more slowly than usual.

“But I’m actually a two-time rejectee.” Avery raised her hand as if taking an oath.

“Trent?” Nicole asked.

“Not exactly. I wanted the divorce. We weren’t particularly good or right for each other. But I didn’t really leave
Hammer and Nail
, I was pushed out. As badly as I was portrayed on that show, I’d still be clinging to it if I’d been given the choice. We’re not on hiatus. I’m off the show.”

The three of them stared at each other, contemplating Avery’s revelation on top of the others. Their expressions were grim.

“Shit!” Nicole said. “Look at us! We are
pathetic
!”

“I know!” Maddie said. “And we’re out of daiquiris, too.”

“Oh, my God,” Avery said. “That’s terrible. Wait here a minute while I go inside and get my violin!”

They erupted into laughter then. Maddie had no idea who laughed first; she only knew that they were doing a first-rate impression of ROTFLOL while Avery mimed playing a tiny violin and Nicole peered into the empty pitcher looking for one last drop. They were still giggling when a car pulled into the drive and a car door opened and slammed shut.

Light footsteps raced through the kitchen and out onto the loggia. Kyra practically skidded to a stop in front of them. She was breathing heavily. “Quick, we have to go inside. Some of them might be following me.” She looked back over her shoulder as if she expected a horde to come around the side of the house at any moment.

Nicole stood, the empty pitcher still clutched in one hand. Avery grabbed the Cheez Doodles and hugged them to her chest. It was a good thing she hadn’t already retrieved her violin, Maddie thought, then laughed at the ridiculous image.

Kyra shushed them impatiently. “What’s wrong with you all?”

The three of them looked at each other and broke up again. Kyra didn’t crack a smile but began herding them, much like goats, toward the kitchen door. Every time they erupted in hoots of laughter, Kyra rolled her eyes and herded a little harder. It seemed that Kyra had left her sense of humor wherever she’d been. “What happened?” Maddie asked. “And why are we whispering?”

More cars arrived. Several doors opened and slammed shut on the street. Kyra pushed them faster. When they were inside the kitchen with the door locked behind them Kyra flicked off the kitchen light so that they were standing in the dark.

This made them giggle harder.

“Shush,” Kyra said like some irate kindergarten teacher. Any minute she was going to tell them to use their “inside voices.”

“What is it, Kyra?” Maddie was swaying slightly on her feet. Sitting down seemed safer so she inched her way toward the outline of the kitchen table and chairs. “Who are we hiding from?”

She could make out Nicole moving toward the table, too. Avery looked kind of happy where she was.

“The photographers,” Kyra whispered. “They started shouting my name and taking pictures of me when I came out of the theater.” She threw another look over her shoulder and out the kitchen window. “They wanted to know where Daniel was.”

“The paparazzi?” Nicole laughed out loud despite Kyra’s insistent shushing. “The paparazzi are here in Pass-a-Grille?”

They laughed even harder. Great, big belly laughs that required even greater gulps of air. Right up until the first flashbulb went off just beyond the driveway and the Jet Ski zoomed in and began to idle just off the seawall.

Avery stood in the master bathroom, staring at her reflection in the oversized makeup mirror that Deirdre had affixed to the wall when the mirrors were sent out for re-silvering. She was achingly glad to have both privacy and time, but she could have lived without the magnification and illumination. She also could have lived without all of Deirdre’s things spread around her, especially the scent of her heavy gardenia perfume—the one that Avery used to sneak into her missing mother’s closet to smell.

Avery moved aside the bottom of the white sheet that now hung over the bathroom’s garden window and peeked out toward the street where a small mob of photographers milled around hoping for a shot at Kyra but settling for anyone they could catch in their viewfinders. They’d lost almost a full day of work as they’d raced to cover the bedroom and bathroom windows and debated whether to continue to work outside where the zoom lenses had no trouble capturing them. Finally they’d decided that they couldn’t keep cowering inside even in the deliciously air-conditioned cool and still meet their schedule, so for the most part they went back about their business, ignoring the shouts of “look this way” and “what’s your name, luv?” But Avery wasn’t the only one of them who’d gone back to wearing makeup and giving thought to what she wore.

Deirdre poked her head through the bathroom doorway, now also hung with a sheet since the bathroom and bedroom doors had been removed for refinishing. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried and her makeup artfully applied. She wore a pair of white linen pants, a glittery fuchsia T-shirt, and a cropped linen jacket as if she were off on a cruise or for lunch at the yacht club. Avery would die before saying so, but she hoped she looked half that good when she was staring down sixty.

“Can you join us in the kitchen?” Deirdre asked.

“Join who?”

“Chase and I are going to discuss the kitchen renovation. I thought you’d want to be a part of the conversation.”

Avery looked at Deirdre, uncertain.

“He’s never going to come out and invite your participation. He’s a lot like his father; once he takes a position he doesn’t really know how to back off it.” Her mouth softened. “And you’re a lot like yours.”

Avery grimaced. “I’m surprised you can remember that far back. I’m sure there have been tons of men since my father.”

“Oh, you never forget your first love.” She came through the door to stand next to Avery.

“Right.”

They were exactly the same height, had the same hazel gray eyes and busty build, the same flyaway blonde hair, or they would have if Deirdre’s had been allowed to fly anywhere but where she intended.

“And you certainly never forget your daughter. Even if you’ve made the mistake of leaving her behind.”

Avery closed her eyes for a moment and moved out of mirror range. “You make it sound like you forgot a lipstick or an outfit. Is that the way you remember it? Well, I don’t have any fond memories of you.” She wouldn’t let herself. “All I remember is that you left and didn’t come back.”

“Avery, it wasn’t about you. It was . . .”

“I don’t really want to hear what it was or wasn’t.” She smoothed a hand down the T-shirt and capris she’d pulled on, wishing she could smooth the hurt away as easily. “We can work together and I’ll be as civil as I can. But there’s not going to be anything more than that. Ever.”

Deirdre nodded and followed her out of the bedroom and down the back stairs where a glance out the fixed glass confirmed that several boats idled off the seawall, their occupants holding cameras with lenses long enough to shoot into the next city. Several other photographers had congregated on the path to the jetty and on the far side of the Dumpster. For all Avery knew, several could be crouching inside sifting through their garbage.

Chase stood as they entered the kitchen. Maddie was wiping the countertop. A fresh pot of coffee was brewing.

“I can’t believe they’re still out there,” Avery said. “I feel like we’re under siege.”

“I know,” Maddie said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad there are so many crystals on that chandelier. I’m nowhere near ready to go outside and face those cameras.”

Maddie poured Chase another cup of coffee.

“Do we know how they found out about Kyra?” Chase asked.

Maddie shook her head. “Kyra says their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret on set, but I didn’t think anyone outside Bella Flora knew that Deranian had fathered her baby. As to how they found her here—she’s been pretty vocal and visible on YouTube.”