by Wendy Wax
“Is he allowed to sell his story?”
“Unclear. But I hope not. I’m sure he’ll find some way to turn himself into the hero of the piece. I don’t expect to fare so well. And I don’t believe that if he were allowed to, the advance or any profits would ever reach his victims,” Nicole said.
“That would be us.” Avery’s mouth was now rimmed in orange.
“Yes, it seems like he may just be using the whole thing to look good to a parole board. But he seems to be really writing it. And even if he can’t sell it—if it includes our childhood, well, I feel like I’ve been dragged through the dirt enough already without everyone having to know just how hand-to-mouth our life was.”
“Maybe you should write your story yourself,” Kyra said with a swipe at Dustin’s peanut-butter-smeared fingers. “Just clear the air once and for all.”
“I don’t know.” Nicole sighed. “There are way too many things I’m not sure about at the moment. I’ve never been this indecisive. I always knew what I wanted, what I was trying to achieve. I spent so many years trying to escape my beginnings and create financial security—but control of our destiny—it’s just an illusion. And I can’t help feeling that if I couldn’t even see my brother, my own flesh and blood, for what he was, how qualified am I to make serious life choices? I want to be with Joe. We choose to be together. But I don’t really see why marriage needs to be a part of it.
“Okay, enough about me.” Nicole turned to Kyra. “How was Bella Flora?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “I’m almost afraid to ask. Were there any signs of housal abuse?”
“No.” Kyra tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “She hasn’t been touched at all. And given the number of homes they have I’m hoping Tonja Kay will just sort of forget about it.”
“Well, the more you stay out of the picture the more likely that will be,” Maddie couldn’t help adding.
“Yeah.” Kyra dropped her gaze and busied herself cutting Dustin’s remaining half sandwich into quarters.
Maddie knew that tone and recognized the posture. Her daughter had slept with Daniel Deranian. Again. She might have given her some grief about it if she didn’t now understand just how easily that could happen.
“How about you, Deirdre?” Maddie asked too brightly. “How was it with Jeff and the boys?”
“It was far more enjoyable than I’d expected. Jeff’s having a hard time accepting his current limitations and I understand that. It must be so difficult to feel your world shrinking around you, but there is something really fabulous about taking care of others.” Deirdre shot a look at Avery. “I ran away from that once, and now I understand that I not only hurt the people I loved and left, I missed out on something that would have made me a far better person.” Deirdre paused. “Okay, I didn’t mean to get quite so heavy.” She looked around the table, studying each of their faces. “Something’s going on here. In fact . . .” She sniffed, as if trying to catch a whiff of something. “I have the weirdest feeling that I’m the only woman here who didn’t have sex this weekend.”
“Right!” Kyra laughed. “On that unlikely note, I’m going to put Dustin down for the night.” She waited while he gave his Geema a kiss.
Maddie watched them head to their cabin, glad for the subject change. When she turned back to the table, Deirdre and Avery were exchanging glances. They contemplated her out of identical blue eyes. “So nothing special happened here this weekend?”
“Nope.” Maddie put on what she hoped was a poker face.
“So this couldn’t have anything to do with you?” Avery slid a piece of newspaper toward her. It was a grainy black-and-white photo of two people in a major lip-lock in what was clearly William Hightower’s hot tub on what was clearly William Hightower’s island. “I saw it in the Key West Citizen.”
Nicole leaned closer to study the photo. “Well, that’s Will all right. And the woman does have wet dark hair about Maddie’s length, but even from the back you can tell she’s naked . . .”
Maddie’s heart was beating so hard she was afraid they’d hear it. She pulled the photo closer and studied it carefully while she willed her heart to slow and tried her hardest not to squirm in her seat. She’d been so focused on Will and what was happening at the time, she hadn’t even thought about photographers or their telephoto lenses. “It’s awfully blurry. It could be Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. I mean, you can’t see anything except the back of her head and her arms.” Thank you, God.
“Any idea who Will had here on the island, Maddie? Did you meet her?” Avery’s eyes were glued to Maddie’s face.
“No. But then, it’s a pretty big island and—”
“He should be more careful who he brings here,” Deirdre said slowly. “Because I think she must have helped herself to your bathing suit and your cover-up.”
“Why do you say that?” Maddie could feel the situation spiraling out of control.
“Why? Because I found them on the pool deck right next to the hot tub when I went to put some things in the pavilion refrigerator,” Deirdre said. “They’re on your bed.”
Nicole’s eyes telegraphed her surprise. She was looking from Deirdre and Avery to Maddie and back again like a fan watching a tennis match.
“You might want to file a missing clothing report.” Avery raised a brow in a perfect imitation of Deirdre.
“Oh, no, those aren’t my . . .” Maddie shook her head for emphasis, but her voice trailed off.
“It’s okay, Maddie. There’s no judgment going on here. In fact, I find myself tempted to say, ‘You go, girl.’” Deirdre smiled.
“I agree.” Avery looked over her shoulder to make sure Kyra’s door was shut then gave Maddie a quiet high five. “I’m guessing most women just out of a quarter-century marriage would be way too timid to take a ‘walk walk on the Wild Will side.’” She handed the photo to Maddie. “You’ve got guts.” She and Deirdre gave Maddie almost identical smiles. “You can throw it away or put it in a scrapbook. That’s entirely up to you.”
Deirdre nodded in agreement. “We’ll refrain from asking for the gory details.”
“Unless you feel a need to share them?” Nicole added.
Part of Maddie would have loved nothing better than to dish with the women who had become her closest friends. But she could hardly process what had happened let alone talk about it. And her walk on the wild side had been brief and ended badly. Maddie shook her head quietly. “I don’t think I’m ready to kiss and tell. I’m still kind of absorbing the whole thing.” She wasn’t sharing any story that started out so magically and ended with being called “babe” in such an impersonal and dismissive way.
Chapter Thirty-eight
It took a day to get back to work after the holiday break and another for the Sheetrock guys that Roberto had referred to arrive. The Sealys were Jamaican brothers, tall and slender with lilting accents and warm, sunny smiles that shone white in contrast to their ebony faces. They worked in concert with no need of verbal communication, beginning in the main house and then moving through the other structures with a grace that Avery found herself watching with admiration.
They worked to reggae and what Avery knew only as island music—strong on steel drums and with vocals that made her want to smile. Or maybe it was only the obvious progress they were making and the fact that when they finished there were no seams to be straightened, no gaps that needed filling; just smooth finished walls where before there had been only framework. Avery sighed with happiness to see the spaces she’d envisioned taking shape. Roberto returned late the afternoon the brothers finished. “Roberto, mon!” There was hugging and bopping as the trio caught up with each other. After a brief passing of the peace pipe on the house of the setting sun, the brothers took off on their boat, Bob Marley’s music trailing in their wake.
It took a couple of days to settle into Maddie’s cooking schedul
e, too. It included everyone who lived on—or attached to—Mermaid Point and the offerings teetered from the simple to the sublime. So far they’d had hot dogs and burgers courtesy of Troy and Anthony, an elegant coquilles Saint-Jacques à la nage from Deirdre, and the Dante family ravioli served up by Roberto.
Avery had noted William Hightower’s absence at those first meals as well as Maddie’s disappointment-tinged relief each evening when he didn’t appear. In fact, the man had kept himself scarce since the holiday and sometimes seemed off island when all the boats were present and accounted for, which Avery hadn’t yet figured out. There was no contact between him and Maddie that she could discern, and Maddie didn’t even speak his name. If Avery hadn’t seen the photo and Deirdre hadn’t found Maddie’s clothes, she would never have known anything had transpired between them.
That night it was William Hightower’s turn to cook dinner and Avery, who’d heard him and Hud and Tommy leave in the skiff early that morning, wondered if the rock star had decided to blow off the schedule as he seemed to be blowing off Madeline Singer. But by three P.M. the three men were back from what appeared to be a successful fishing trip if the ice chest of freshly filleted fish was any indication.
Avery and Deirdre were discussing plans for an additional path between the pavilion and the guest bath/laundry area in the main house when William Hightower arrived at the pool in exceptionally high spirits. His eyes strayed to Maddie, who sat on the beach watching Dustin dig in the sand. “This is what living on an island is all about.” He said this louder than necessary and far louder than usual. Dustin turned around at the sound of William’s voice. His grandmother did not.
“Billyum!” Dustin dropped his bucket and shovel and raced toward the rocker with a big smile on his face.
“Dustbin!” Hightower smiled back and tousled the little boy’s hair, then pretended to have trouble walking—keeping his leg stiff as he pulled the toddler clinging to it along with him. “You ready for a swim?”
“Twim!”
If she hadn’t been watching so closely Avery might have missed the quick peek Hightower snuck at Maddie. Who was now gathering Dustin’s sand toys and walking toward the pool at a tortoiselike pace.
“Can he come in for a swim?” Will asked Maddie, his enthusiasm level dialed down several notches.
“Dustbin twim!”
“No, I don’t think so.” Maddie reached a hand out to detach Dustin from Hightower’s leg. “He didn’t nap well today. I’m going to take him inside for some quiet time.” Her chin was tilted up, her shoulders squared. Even from her angle Avery could tell she was looking past William, not at him.
“Sorry, sport.” Hightower looked down at Dustin. “I’ll see you at dinner. I’m making extra-special lemon-butter fish from a secret recipe.” He looked up at Maddie as if waiting to see her reaction.
“Billyum tish!”
“Won’t that be great, Dustin?” Maddie’s eyes remained on her grandson. With a brief nod in William’s general direction she turned toward the houseboat.
“Right.” William peeled off his shirt and dove into the pool. He came up with a shake of his wet hair. “Ahh, this is the life.” It was unclear whom he was trying to convince.
Avery sat on the edge of a chaise and watched Maddie’s stiff-backed retreat.
“So how’s the work coming?” William asked casually even though Avery could practically feel him battling the urge to turn and check on Maddie’s progress.
“Good.” Avery wondered what was up. She’d never seen Maddie so stiff and uncomfortable. Had the man done something in bed that hadn’t been okay with Maddie? She turned her eyes on William Hightower and saw that he’d lost the battle and was watching Maddie and Dustin disappear from view. “The Sheetrock’s done—you’ll be able to really see what the rooms will look like now—and Roberto’s ready to start on the trim. When he’s out of the main house, the floors will be sanded—you’re going to want to be sleeping elsewhere for four or five days until the polyurethane has dried. Then the plumber can get started and the glass accordion doors can go in. There’s a lot to cover still, but we’re picking up steam. It’s going to look fabulous.”
“That’s great.” William Hightower sounded a lot less jovial than he had when he’d arrived. He seemed thrown by the fact that his audience had left and had forgotten to applaud before departing.
“I guess I’ll go ahead and get my laps in now before it’s time to get dinner started.”
Avery watched him swim for a few minutes; he ate up the length of the pool with his long-armed crawl as if something were pursuing him. Or maybe there was something he was trying to catch.
• • •
Maddie dressed for dinner with far more care than she wanted to and headed to the pavilion with the same trepidation she’d felt since Hudson had found her in William’s bed and ripped the face off the little fantasy she’d had going; the one where her and Will’s connection was not some one-night stand of convenience that evaporated in the light of day. She couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly he’d shut down in the face of Hudson’s disapproval, how quickly he’d distanced himself as he probably had a million times before. She’d taken a walk on the wild side and had been tempted to remain; he’d dabbled in the everyday and clearly had no interest in dwelling there.
The first time they’d run into each other she’d been with Nicole and Deirdre and she’d watched his face carefully, waiting for some flash of the man she’d thought she’d glimpsed; some form of acknowledgment of what they’d shared; some word or glance that would tell her that he knew she wasn’t a “babe” and that even if there would be no more nights, the one they’d spent had meant something. But he’d just smiled at her like he did at the others, or possibly less warmly, and went on about his way. It was then, as she’d felt her friends bristle on her behalf, that she’d understood. This was the real William Hightower. The other Will, the one who’d treated her like she was something and someone worth savoring, had been the doppelgänger. The William Hightower who’d held and caressed her like she was a treasure he was grateful to have stumbled upon was no more than a figment of her imagination.
She arrived in the pavilion to find the tables set with a hodgepodge of plastic dishes and cutlery culled from all three houseboats and Will sautéing up a storm much as he had the night he’d cooked for her. She was watching from beside a shadowed pillar when Hudson stepped up to her. “I was hoping to find a minute alone with you. I’ve been wanting to apologize.”
“Thanks. But that’s not necessary.” She stepped onto the concrete floor, prepared to head for the table where Kyra and Dustin were already seated. Hud reached a hand out to stop her.
“No, it is. I was just so surprised when I found you and Will. I never imagined . . .”
Maddie checked to make sure no one could hear them. If there was anything worse than what had taken place that afternoon when Hud had stumbled on her and Will, it was having to discuss it now. “I get it. Believe me. I understand far more than I want to.” She swallowed. “I was way out of my league. Kind of like an average club tennis player accidentally winding up on Centre Court at Wimbledon. I was overly flattered and I’m sure I misinterpreted all kinds of things.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” Hudson looked at her imploringly. “I actually think that Will is—”
“I’m sure Will’s actually laughing inside, kind of like those fish I was trying to cast my lure at.”
“What?”
Maddie closed her eyes briefly. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We both tried something outside our normal comfort zone. It turned out to be . . . uncomfortable. Like he said, it’s no big deal.”
“No, Maddie, really I don’t—”
“Is this guy bothering you?” She looked up to see William standing there, a scowl on his face and a spatula in his hand. “Lots of Keys guides have a reputati
on for being stingy with their words. But Hud here has verbal diarrhea. Sometimes the fish break the surface just to ask him to shut up.”
“Unlike you. Who knows how to shut up and retreat on a dime.” The words were out before Maddie could stop them, but she was relieved to note that they’d been delivered in an even tone with something that resembled a smile on her face.
“If I hurt your feelings I’m sorry.” Will lowered the spatula. “I’m just not used to . . .”
“. . . women like me. I get it. I’m sure I was a total shock to your system.” She hoped this shock would fade. Along with his memory of her naked.
She had the satisfaction of seeing surprise written across both of the men’s faces. “Now both of you can settle down and stop worrying about me. And you can definitely stop apologizing.” She smiled again and, though she spoke softly so as not to be overheard, she chose to end the conversation—and, she hoped, the topic—with the words that had been echoing in her head ever since William had uttered them. “It was sex. We both enjoyed it. End of story.” She shrugged and shot Will a wink. “I don’t really see the problem here. Do you, babe?”
• • •
“What’s going on with your mom and Will and Hudson?” Troy stood on the opposite side of Kyra’s table, aiming the camera at her and Dustin. Anthony aimed the boom microphone toward her mouth. She wished Will would stop talking and serve up dinner so the network duo would either sit down and eat or have something else to shoot.
“No idea.” Kyra snapped a bib around Dustin’s neck and handed him his favorite Thomas the Tank Engine plastic fork. A matching plate and sippy cup of milk sat in front of him. She busied herself with Dustin, doing her best to block an extreme close-up, but it was a good question. Her mother had been acting pretty un-Mom-like since she and Dustin had gotten back from Bella Flora. Kyra had no idea at all what had gotten into her.
“So how was the holiday in Pass-a-Grille?”