Ocean Beach

by Wendy Wax

  “Except Dustin’s not yours, is he?” Kyra asked.

  Tonja’s lips pursed. Her eyes flashed with irritation.

  Kyra smiled at her and then at Daniel.

  Maddie could barely drink her coffee without sloshing it, but Kyra actually seemed to be enjoying herself.

  She leaned forward and said, “What I’ve really been wanting to ask is where you all went on vacation after Tonja found out Daniel was sleeping with me.”

  The room went still. Tonja Kay and Daniel Deranian’s surprise shone in their eyes. Neither of them moved.

  Maddie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She thought she heard shushing sounds from the dining room.

  “I mean I was thinking about how I saw that photo of you two on vacation on some beach somewhere while we were still at Bella Flora, but it really never said where. This time, after the assistant on the Miami film, you took the whole family to Scandinavia.” Kyra paused as if waiting for an answer.

  “What the fuck?” Tonja said, more in amazement than anything else.

  Daniel put a hand on his wife’s arm. “Women come on to me all the time,” he said. “I haven’t always resisted like I should.” He smiled like a child admitting he’d had one too many sweets. Or who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

  “Yes,” Kyra added, in a conversational tone that did not match the tilt of her chin. “I saw an article recently in which you described celebrity of a certain magnitude as a kind of sexual all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  Maddie did not want to think about where her daughter had fit in all of this; was she a small but tasty appetizer? A chocolate dessert? She remained silent telling herself Kyra was going somewhere with this, though she couldn’t imagine where.

  Tonja shrugged off her husband’s arm.

  “Would you agree with that, Tonja?” Kyra asked. “That celebrity entitles a person to sleep with whoever they want whenever they feel like it?”

  The blonde’s jaw clenched. Her overplumped lip curled. It seemed the ice maiden had begun to melt from within.

  “I may not be the greatest husband fidelity-wise,” Deranian admitted. “But Tonja has been very understanding and…supportive.” He offered this as if it were a glowing testimonial to his wife.

  Kyra kept her gaze fixed on Tonja’s face. Two angry spots of color dotted her pale cheeks.

  Maddie looked at the husband and wife. They were both very talented actors, but they had very different styles. Daniel always seemed to be playing “everyman” and wanted to be universally liked; Tonja seemed far less inclined to perform at all. Especially not for people lower down the food chain than herself. Which was, of course, pretty much everyone else.

  Kyra leaned toward Tonja, still acting as if they were having a friendly conversation. “You must be running low on exotic places to trot out your family for the press,” she said. “Given how often he screws around on you.”

  “Fuck this shit!” Tonja exclaimed, moving to stand. Her husband put a hand on her arm.

  “I think we’re getting a little bit off topic here,” Daniel said, cutting his eyes to Tonja.

  “I don’t know,” Kyra said. “I would think your relationship would be kind of key to what sort of home environment you provide for your children.” She shrugged. “I mean what sort of example are you setting?” Her tone turned less friendly. “I think you’re the ones who aren’t fit parents.”

  “Goddamn it,” Tonja shrieked. “This cunt has no right to talk to me this way. Fuck that!”

  Dustin stopped playing with the truck. He looked up at Tonja Kay’s reddening face and blazing eyes and started to cry.

  “I told you this was fucking ridiculous!” Tonja Kay shouted. “I do not need to convince this cunt that your little bastard would be better off with us. I fucking knew Mother Teresa!”

  Kyra got up and retrieved her crying child. Sitting him in her lap, she rocked him against her, covering his ears as she did so.

  “This bitch will be begging to give him to us when I get the network to cancel this bullshit Do Over excuse for a show!”

  Tonja Kay jumped up and let loose a string of profanities that had even Daniel blanching.

  Kyra’s eyes narrowed, but she wore an oddly satisfied smile on her face. “I don’t know if you talk like that in front of your children, Tonja, but you’re not going to talk like that in front of mine ever again.”

  She stood, still cradling Dustin close. Maddie and Daniel also rose to their feet, although Maddie couldn’t quite imagine what was coming next.

  “But I’ll be happy to play this conversation back for anyone who wants to hear it, including the network,” Kyra continued. “I’m not sure either of you will be all that attractive to them once the world finds out you were trying to blackmail me into giving up my child.” She looked toward Max’s bedroom door and nodded.

  Daniel looked nonplussed. Tonja just looked pissed. Maddie couldn’t even imagine what her own face looked like.

  All of them turned when Max’s bedroom door opened and Troy and Anthony emerged.

  “Got it! That’s a keeper!” Troy had his camera on his shoulder. He gave Kyra a thumbs-up as they moved across the living room, stopping briefly for Anthony to remove wireless microphones from the mantel and the lamp next to where Tonja Kay had been sitting. “Anybody interested in a playback?”

  “What the fuck?” Tonja Kay whispered at a much lower volume.

  “Hey!” Daniel Deranian said, knitting his brows. “What’s going on here, man?”

  “We’re shooting a reality-TV show here, man,” Troy replied. “I shot what just took place. It’s my job. And at the moment I’m lovin’ it.”

  Daniel Deranian and Tonja Kay turned to Kyra, their faces painted with shock. This time Maddie didn’t think either of them was acting.

  “Oh my gosh,” Kyra said, her eyes wide in mock surprise. “You mean you didn’t realize you’d be on camera?”

  She let that hang for a long moment. “I didn’t think to warn you.” She looked at Daniel over Dustin’s head and her tone turned steely. “Any more than you warned me that you and your wife were going to try to take my child away.”

  Maddie felt her shock begin to give way to relief and amazement. She couldn’t believe how cleanly Kyra had managed to turn the tables on the celebrity couple.

  “If you ever make a complaint to the network—any network—threaten our livelihoods, or even hint that you want custody, I’ll go public with this video. It’ll be all over the airwaves and the Internet. I’ll send it out by carrier pigeon if I have to.”

  Kyra locked gazes with Daniel Deranian. “You’re Dustin’s father and you should be a part of his life,” she said. “But Tonja’s not welcome, and any relationship will have to be on terms that I’m comfortable with and that will be good for Dustin.”

  Avery, Deirdre, and Nicole spilled out of the dining room smiling and high-fiving as the movie stars strode into the foyer.

  “Well done, Kyra!” Nicole called. Deirdre nodded her agreement. Avery opened the door and ushered the couple out.

  There were shouts and the pop of flashbulbs outside. The bodyguards snapped to attention.

  From the window they watched the two movie stars pull themselves up, put smiles on their faces, and walk arm in arm down the front steps toward the photographers.

  They came home from the hospital late the next evening far more subdued than they’d been after the Deranian-Kays’ departure. The ventilator had been removed and Max had been transferred to a regular room. They took turns sitting with him and trying to snag his attention, but he was weak and only awake for short periods. Maddie had the distinct impression that everyone at the hospital, including Max, was waiting for him to die.

  Maddie had fallen into a stupor of her own, staring at the photos she’d placed next to Max’s bed. Something about them kept drawing her attention, something that wasn’t quite right. Or maybe it was just that she couldn’t bear to watch Max slipping away.

 
“I’m glad Dustin…’kay.” His voice was raspy, most likely from the ventilator and lack of use. “Wish Aaron…’kay.”

  Maddie scooted forward on the chair and leaned closer to Max. “Are you thirsty?” She held the cup of water and the straw up to his lips. He took a few sips, but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he only did it to please her. She held on to his papery-skinned hand, careful not to squeeze it too hard as she tried to entreat him to hang on.

  Back at The Millicent, there was little left to do but worry. The house was finished, the transformation documented. Theoretically, the show was complete and it was time to move on. Yet all of them lingered. Visiting with Max each day, spending their sunsets at the hospital. The only “good thing” any of them could come up with was the possibility of Max recovering and coming home to take possession of The Millicent.

  Madeline fell asleep early and slept deeply; her dreams were unusually vivid. At first they were filled with Daniel Deranian and Dustin on an amusement-park roller coaster, their faces side by side, their smiles and shrieks of joy identical. And then she was with Max and Millie in the days after Aaron disappeared. She felt Millie’s pain and panic; she felt the desolation. Felt the sharp splintering when the new life she was carrying detached itself from her womb and seeped out of her along with the flood of tears. A barrage of faces floated in a briny bubble of what Maddie somehow knew was amniotic fluid.

  She heard Max shout and then Pamela Gentry’s face was there, sharp and angry as it shimmered in the light of the chandelier. With a menacing snarl, she landed on The Millicent’s Moroccan tile floor and reached behind her polka-dot bikini to rip the tail from between her legs so that she could throw it at Max and Millie.

  Max’s voice sounded in Maddie’s ear. Pamela Gentry wasn’t a leave-quietly-with-her-tail-tucked-between-her-legs kind of person. The words reverberated in her head. They were filled with a desperate despair.

  At four A.M., she sat straight up in bed, her sweaty pajamas stuck to her body despite the air-conditioning, the sheets twisted around her. Frantic, she raced downstairs to the dining room table, where Deirdre had left the “House” envelope materials and began to paw through the papers and photos. She needed to be careful and not jump to any conclusions. She tiptoed back upstairs to retrieve Kyra’s laptop, her fingers shaking too badly to even attempt to search for confirmation on her phone’s tiny screen. But even as she told herself to calm down and not get carried away, deep in her heart she knew that the unbelievable had happened. She’d figured out what had happened to Aaron Golden.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  A hand shook Avery’s shoulder. She kept her eyes closed and resisted, hoping against hope that whoever it was would give up and go away. She did not want to hear the words rise and shine!

  The hand went away and was replaced by the smell of coffee. “Boy, Deirdre, you really play dirty,” she said as her eyes flew open. But when they focused on the coffee cup, the hand holding it belonged to Maddie.

  “What’s going on?” Avery asked, taking in the look of excitement on Maddie’s face.

  “I need you to wake up!” Maddie said in a rush. “I’ve been waving this cup under your nose forever. I need to talk to you.”

  Avery yawned and sat up against the pillows, reaching for the coffee. She took a long, wonderful sip. “Now this is how I’d like to wake up every morning,” she said. “If I ever sign another talent contract, I’m writing in ‘coffee in bed’ every morning.”

  “There’s no time for rhapsodizing,” Maddie said quickly, barely taking a moment for a roll of her eyes. “Deirdre’s in the bathroom and Nikki’s awake. Hurry up and come downstairs. But remind Deirdre to bring her phone. I need her to place a call.”

  “Isn’t it kind of early for all this?” Avery stared down into her now-empty coffee cup.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t wake you up like I wanted to at four A.M.,” Maddie replied. “Hurry up and get downstairs.” She’d already turned and headed for the door, the cup in her hand. “I’ll have another cup waiting for you,” she said, holding out the irresistible caffeine carrot.

  Avery threw her legs over the side of the bed and sat for a moment yawning. Deirdre came out of the bathroom fully dressed and made up. “We need to head downstairs before Madeline explodes,” she said.

  Footsteps sounded out in the hallway, followed by a knock on the door. It opened and Nicole poked her head in. “Come on,” she said. “Maddie’s started sending texts and it isn’t pretty.” She squinted down at her phone. “Any idea what ‘Wnpin chicnw’ means?”

  “No.” Avery moved to the dresser. “But tell her I’ll be down in a minute.” She pulled on the first clothes she came across then went into the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and pull a comb through her hair.

  In the kitchen she found them all assembled around the kitchen table. As promised, a steaming mug of coffee sat at the empty place. A granola bar sat beside it.

  Maddie handed Deirdre her cell phone. “I want you to call Chicago. I have a question I want to ask Jacob Madsen.”

  “What?” Deirdre looked at her phone and then at Maddie. “I think you need to explain what’s got you all worked up before we call anyone. Besides, it’s only, what, seven A.M. in Chicago. I only have his office number. I seriously doubt anyone’s there yet.”

  “What’s going on, Mom?” Kyra asked.

  Avery looked at Madeline, who was practically levitating with excitement. “Just take a deep breath,” she said. “We don’t want you hyperventilating. Tell us why you’re so worked up.”

  Madeline nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Sorry. It’s just…well, I woke up at four this morning and all of the sudden I just knew…” She slowed herself down. “I mean I thought I knew.” She paused, drew a deep breath, then said, “Let me lay it all out for you and you tell me if I’m crazy or not.”

  When they’d all agreed, Maddie picked up the sheet with Pamela Gentry Madsen’s obituary and the photo of her son, Ethan Madsen. “When I first saw this photo of Ethan Madsen, all I thought was that he didn’t look much like his mother. But then I spent all those days sitting with Max at the hospital and looking at the age progression of Aaron Golden—who looked so much like his father—and something just kept kind of niggling at the back of my mind. About four o’clock this morning I realized that the person Ethan Madsen looked most like was Aaron Golden’s age-progressed picture.”

  There was a silence.

  “But that’s…” Avery’s voice trailed off, as if she was unable to find the right word.

  “I know,” Maddie said. “It seemed ridiculous. I mean, how could that happen? Unless Max and Pamela had something going on. But Max told me the day the chandelier went up that Pamela had come on to him and that he’d said no. And that before he had to say anything about it, Millie fired Pamela.”

  “Because the wife isn’t always the last to know,” Nicole said thoughtfully.

  “Max also told me that Pamela Gentry was not a leave-quietly-with-her-tail-tucked-between-her-legs kind of person,” Maddie said. “And I don’t think she did.”

  Maddie paused for breath and, Avery thought, to let them catch up. Maddie had been stewing over this since four A.M.; some of them were still waiting for the caffeine to kick in.

  “I don’t think Pamela left town until she’d gotten her revenge by taking the thing that mattered most to Max and Millie.”

  “Jesus,” Deirdre said.

  “Yeah,” Maddie replied. “I pulled up the computer copy of the age progression Giraldi had done. And I found a better shot of Ethan Madsen on the design firm’s website, and, well, it took me a while, but I finally managed to put them side by side on the screen and they looked uncannily alike.” She passed Kyra’s laptop, with the split screen around the table.

  Avery peered closely. The resemblance was marked.

  Madeline clicked the mouse a few times. “This is a photo of Martin Madsen, Pamela’s husband.” She set the screen in the middle
of the table and turned it so that everyone could see. “Ethan doesn’t look any more like his father than he looks like his mother.”

  She paused and let that one sink in. Then she pulled up a shot of Max and Millie. A few more keystrokes and there was a split screen of them next to Ethan.

  Avery looked carefully at Ethan Madsen and then at Max and Millie.

  “Ethan Madsen looks like Max,” Deirdre said.

  “With Millie’s eyes and coloring,” Nicole added.

  “Yes,” Maddie agreed. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

  “I don’t know what’s more amazing,” Avery said, trying to lighten the moment. “All of this information or the fact that someone who can’t text was able to figure all of this out on a computer.”

  There were a few smiles but no laughter as everyone focused on taking it all in.

  “So after I finished freaking out and pacing and barely stopping myself from waking you all up, I Googled a couple of baby-name websites,” Maddie continued. “And look at this.”

  She showed them the two sites she’d bookmarked. “You remember how Max told us that Aaron meant ‘strong’? Well, so does Ethan. And both names have Hebrew origins.”

  “Wow,” Avery said.

  “And Pamela would have had total access to Max and Millie’s house, not only as their friend but as their designer,” Deirdre said. “I mean I always have copies of my client’s house keys because you’re in and out all the time to take care of things. And she would have known their schedule. It would have just been a matter of watching and waiting for the right time.”

  “And she’d been here so much over the years, none of the neighbors would have thought anything at all of seeing her car here,” Kyra said. “They certainly wouldn’t have mentioned it to the police.”

  “It all fits,” Maddie said. “The puzzle pieces started slamming together in a way I never imagined.” She looked at them, unable to contain her excitement. “I guess I just need you to tell me that I haven’t gone completely around the bend and started jumping to bizarre conclusions.”