A Sea Change

by Annette Reynolds

  Chapter Forty

  Nick perched on the edge of the burgundy leather Chesterfield sofa, elbows on knees, a cup – porcelain, not paper – clutched in both hands. He stared down at the oriental rug under his feet, following the intricate pattern, as he waited.

  The law office of Alexander A. Michaels, Esquire was decorated in the understated style reserved for men’s clubs. It was all dark, polished wood and leather. Useless lamps with green and amber shades spilled small pools of light, making it impossible to read. The slats on the oak blinds covering the only window were open just enough to lay pale yellow stripes of sunlight across the wool carpet. A refractive lamp hung above the receptionist’s desk, spotlighting the young brunette as if she were an actress in an English drawing-room play.

  Nick took another sip of coffee. His right knee began a nervous bounce in counterpoint to the soft classical music wafting from a hidden speaker. He checked his watch, even though a grandfather clock against the far wall ticked off the seconds. He’d been early, but now it was ten minutes past the appointed time, and Nick sighed.

  “How much longer?” His voice boomed in the hushed office.

  The receptionist – Jenny, according to the necklace she wore – looked up from her magazine, almost as if surprised to see another person in the room, and then the telephone on her desk buzzed.

  “He’ll see you now,” she said, and went back to methodically flipping the pages of the latest issue of Vogue.

  Nick left the cup on her desk as he walked past, and slid open the pocket door to the inner office.

  Alec Michaels was already on his feet and coming around the antique desk, hand outstretched. “Nick! It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

  “Better since the last time you saw me,” he said, shaking Michaels’ hand.

  “Have a seat.” Alec leaned against his desk. “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I want to talk about full custody.”

  The lawyer didn’t betray his surprise, but merely crossed his arms and said, “Okay, let’s talk about it. You still living down on Salmon Beach?”

  Nick nodded.

  “Still clean?”

  “I haven’t taken anything stronger than aspirin for sixteen months.”

  “That’s good.” Michaels pushed himself upright and, as he made his way back behind the desk, asked, “Have any future career plans?” He dropped into the leather swivel chair. “In baseball, for instance?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. Coaching, maybe. In the Minors.”

  Alec reached for a pen and scribbled something on a pad, saying, “So, basically, you’re looking at being on the road April through September.”

  “About eighty days, actually,” Nick corrected.

  “Any chance you could do something else?”

  Nick knew where Michaels was going, but he shrugged and said, “I don’t know anything else.”

  “Look, Nick – I know you love your daughter. And I know how you feel about your ex-wife. But you’ve got to think like a judge, because he or she is going to do what’s best for Becky.” He leaned back, holding the pen up between both hands. “I’m going to be straight with you. There’s no way any judge is going to grant you full custody. As a single dad, the odds are already a million to one. That number’s going to double if you add a job that takes you out of town half the year.”

  “Eighty days, Alec.”

  The lawyer nodded his understanding.

  “What if I remarry?” Nick said.

  “Even if that were a real possibility…Is it?” Robinson’s eyebrows went up with the question.

  “There’s someone in my life,” Nick replied.

  The lawyer waved the pen, and went on. “Even so, there’s no guarantee. I don’t want to see you wasting your money.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  Michaels hunched forward, elbows on the blotter, and said, “Come on, Nick. Let’s be realistic.”

  “What about joint custody, then? Shit, Alec! There must be something I can do.”

  “There’s a lot to consider, even with joint custody, Nick. Would you be willing to move to…” He consulted the open file folder. “…Bellevue? Do you really want to put Becky through the schizophrenic existence of ‘one week at Mommy’s and one week at Daddy’s?’ A judge is going to say she needs stability. Consistency. If you get a job coaching, what happens then?”

  Frustrated beyond belief, Nick dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, and swore. When he looked over at his attorney, he said, “Why the hell does that bitch get everything? She cheated on me, for Christ’s sake!”

  Alec sympathetically regarded Nick, and quietly stated, “Because she’s the mother. I know it’s unfair, Nick, but that’s the way the courts work.”

  “Screw the courts!”

  The corners of Michaels’ mouth went up. “You wouldn’t be the first person to express that sentiment, believe me.”

  “So what do I do?” Nick asked.

  “Why don’t we figure out what would satisfy you, and the court?”

  It was 3:10 when Nick drove out of downtown Seattle and onto I-5 south. It was now 3:30 and he’d gone approximately one mile, as he, and half the employees of Boeing, fought their way home.

  A red Jeep cut in front of him and Nick irritably downshifted into first yet again, thinking, the next car that did that would be wearing his truck’s front bumper as a souvenir. He turned up the radio, hoping it would overpower the roar of the traffic, and swore his next vehicle would have air-conditioning, as the dust, fumes, and heat adhered to his skin and clothes.

  Nick had gone into the meeting with Alec Michaels full of optimism. The reality of his situation had been sobering. God, what a Pollyanna he’d been. What they’d ended up with was nowhere near what he wanted.

  If he got a job that kept him in one place, and if he stayed in Washington, then maybe they’d be able to get a judge to add whole summers to Becky’s bi-monthly visits.

  “But I wouldn’t put that in the bank,” Alec had said.

  The sea of cars crawled up Southcenter hill and Nick checked the clock again. At this rate he wouldn’t get home until 4:30 or 5:00 – the time he’d promised Maddy he’d be at her place – and he still had to shower off the smell of rush-hour and disappointment. Had to put on a game-face for the party she was throwing. The party he was supposed to start the barbecue for; the party to celebrate the family she now had.

  He didn’t tell Maddy about the meeting with Michaels, hoping mightily he’d be able to surprise her with something to add to the celebration. Now, he didn’t have jack-shit, and Nick knew he – and the guests – would probably be a lot better off if he went straight to his house and stayed there, keeping his very crappy mood to himself.

  Nick grimaced at the thought of small-talk, smiling, and – most of all – pretending he was happy about Phil Madvick invading her life. Okay, make that their lives. But he’d do it for Maddy. Right now, he’d do just about anything for Maddy.

  The first couple of days back from Victoria they’d both been edgy, and not a single eggshell was crushed, or even cracked, as they tiptoed around each other. Maddy made the first move to bridge the small trench they’d managed to dig between themselves. She’d come right out and said, “I want you to understand you mean just as much to me as Danny does. And I’m sorry for every minute that went by I didn’t tell you about him.” It was only a matter of hours before Nick saw the parallel between her brother and his daughter. He cared for Maddy as much as he cared for Becky – just in a different way. And he’d gone to her later that night and told her that.

  It had worked for them both. The unease fell away. They started talking, and didn’t stop until two in the morning, at which time they went to bed and every cell in his body homed in on Maddy. It had been like nuclear fusion. It was something he never could have imagined.

  He’d called Alec Michaels that afternoon, certain nothing could stand in his way again. He’d been feeling
invincible for the last five days, and Nick sighed deeply, remembering.

  When he came back to the present, Nick saw the traffic had thinned, and he’d just passed the Weyerhaeuser exit. He was a little surprised to see he was moving along at nearly 60 m.p.h. He didn’t remember shifting out of second, let alone into fourth, and he straightened up in the seat just in time to realize he was looking at wall-to-wall brake lights maybe half a mile ahead.

  “Shit!” He slammed his foot down on the brake pedal. His tires squealed on the hot asphalt. The acrid smell of burning rubber assaulted his nostrils. And as his eyes flickered to the rear-view mirror, fear made the skin on his arms and scalp crawl. But the delivery van came to a stop what looked like a couple of inches from his back bumper, and Nick said a prayer of thanks that the man hadn’t been daydreaming about his last sexual encounter, too.

  I-5 had now turned into the largest used-car lot in the Northwest. They didn’t move for the next twenty minutes, and in that time Nick watched Maddy’s vision of their first plunge into domesticity go down the toilet. She’d wanted to do this thing together, and he’d been fine with that. And the only thing she’d asked him to do was be there an hour early, and to man the grill. It had seemed like a reasonable request at the time.

  Nick tuned in the local all-news station and impatiently waited for the traffic report. Happy to hear the overturned semi hadn’t caused any serious injuries, selfish frustration attacked Nick as he listened to how long it would take to clean up the full load of bagged fertilizer that had been spread across four lanes.

  “Oh, that’s fucking perfect,” he said to the announcer.

  Ten minutes later they were, what you might call, moving. The stop-and-crawl road rally got him within a mile of the nearest exit, and Nick decided to go for it. He flipped his blinker up and nosed his way into the right-hand lane, grateful for the fact he only had one lane to cross, and to the woman in the Acura who waved him in.

  Riding the shoulder, Nick got off in Federal Way and took the back roads the rest of the way home.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Maddy posted the Come On In sign on the front door, then looked over at Nick’s place before going back inside.

  “Do you want me to start the charcoal?” Danny stood on the threshold of the deck, holding a can of lighter fluid.

  “No, let’s wait for everyone to get here.”

  Danny knew what she meant was, let’s wait for Nick, and he watched his sister nervously rearrange the already-perfect vegetable platter.

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said.

  “I’m not.”

  She carried the plate outside. Aggravation had turned to worry an hour ago. She tried not to imagine what could have happened to him.

  The front door opened and closed, and Maddy quickly stepped into the house, but the voices that greeted her were female.

  Rita Anders gave Maddy a hug, and said, “I still can’t believe he’s your brother!”

  “It’s definitely a story worth a full hour on Oprah.” Susan took a jar of homemade raspberry jam out of a plastic bag and set it on the kitchen counter. “Where’s Nick? I’ve got the classifieds from yesterday’s Times for him.”

  Maddy smiled, puzzled. “Classifieds?” The door opened again and the Nelsens stepped in. She hid her disappointment, waved, and turned back to Susan Logan, who was saying, “Yeah, he asked me to save them. Don’t know why.”

  “Huh. Well, he’s not here yet, but Danny’s outside.” Maddy took the bag from Susan.

  Rita followed her partner to the French doors and, over her shoulder, said, “I don’t know how I’m gonna get used to calling him Danny.”

  Maddy didn’t hesitate when she said, “Then keep calling him Phil. I think he wants it that way.”

  The noise level on the deck grew with each new arrival, as did Maddy’s unease. Conversations flowed around her as she flitted from group to group playing hostess. But no one needed her attention. The party had taken on a life of its own.

  Mary Delfino found her in the kitchen studying the main course, a very large salmon.

  “Are you waiting for it to speak?”

  Maddy looked up. “I can’t decide what to do.”

  “About what, dear?”

  “Should I start the barbecue? Should I wait?” She pushed away from the counter. “Where is he?”

  Mary could hear the tears in Maddy’s voice, and they were working their way up to her eyes. To keep them from rising further, Mary said, “I’m ravenous, and I’m sure I’m in the majority. I’ll find someone to light the charcoal.” She started walking toward the French doors, and out of the corner of her eye saw the front door open. “And stop worrying about Nick, Madeleine. He’ll be here any minute.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  Mary tried to keep from smiling. “A very strong hunch.” She stepped out onto the deck and disappeared into the crowd just as Nick reached the end of the hallway.

  “You’re wasting your time worrying about me.” The look of relief on her face sloughed off some of the day’s misery, and he let her arms take him in. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

  “Where’ve you been? Are you okay?”

  “I’ll survive.”

  Maddy could feel his weariness and she looked up at him. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

  “I think I’ll feel like talking about it after a couple – or five – beers.” He pressed his lips on her forehead and glanced outside. “Besides, you may have a bigger problem.” He almost smiled when he said, “Sparky’s heading toward the grill with a can of lighter fluid, and no one’s noticed yet.” Nick pulled away from her. “I’d better get out there. Jaed may be underinsured.”

  Maddy watched him make his way through their friends; watched as they greeted him with sincere affection. He accepted it and returned it, but only Maddy saw the effort behind the grin – the slightly defeated slump to his shoulders – and her heart hurt for him.

  Nick set his plate – still loaded with food – out of sight on the deck beside the chaise, and stretched out. He didn’t want Maddy to know his appetite had deserted him. The cat, on the other hand, seemed to have a hollow leg. Nick watched Chloe slinking under chairs, vacuuming up crumbs. When she spotted Nick’s plate full of salmon, he could almost see the words ‘Mother Lode’ light up over her head.

  He was working on his fourth beer and was feeling no pain. From his little corner of the world Nick had a good view of the party. It had spilled over the deck and spread into the house. Someone had turned on the Mariner’s game, and he could see a small group gathered around the light of the television set. It was only eight-thirty but the sun had already gone behind the bluffs across the Narrows. The long summer days were coming to an end.

  Earlier, while the salmon was still cooking, Maddy’s brother had been the unwilling center of attention. Unwilling, that is, until Maddy joined the group that surrounded him.

  Maddy wanted to make an official announcement, and as she held her glass of wine, looked at her brother and then turned to the crowd.

  “I’d like to introduce you all to my brother, Danny. I lost him nineteen years ago, and I found him right here on Salmon Beach, which I think is some kind of miracle.”

  Danny didn’t take his eyes off his sister as she finished her toast.

  Maddy’s eyes searched for and then lit on Nick. “To family and love, lost and found.”

  Her brother smiled at everyone’s applause and then put an arm around Maddy and kissed her cheek.

  “It’s hard to believe how small the world really is sometimes,” he said. “Thanks for making me feel like one of you.” Then he grinned. “And please keep calling me Phil ‘cause I know how hard it is to make the change.”

  After, when Maddy coaxed him to tell tales of New Orleans, he lit up like the Las Vegas Strip. Nick had listened with one ear, still not quite convinced how good Phil – Danny – whatever – was going to be for Maddy. He noticed Mary Delfino on the periphery of
the crowd. She wore a skeptical look that told him she wasn’t convinced either. Nick caught her eye, and she slowly got up and came to sit next to him. Nick had taken her hand and asked, “What do you think of the guest of honor?” Mary’s reply was enigmatic. She’d said, “I’ve been having dreams about a strange man for quite some time. He turned out to be Madeleine’s brother.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Miss Mary.”

  She’d squeezed his hand tightly. “You and Madeleine are meant to be together, Nick, but I feel he’ll do anything he can to come between you.”

  The ghost of a smile on his lips, Nick had said, “So, basically, you and I are reading the same chapter. We’re just on different pages. I’m putting up with him for her sake.” He regarded Phil from his vantage point, and stated, “There’s no way I’ll ever let him have the chance to get in the way.”

  Nick’s eyes came open as seven pounds of feline jumped onto his lap. Chloe began cleaning her face as Maddy and Mary, watching from a few feet away, laughed.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “Not more than ten minutes,” Maddy said, coming toward him. “What number is that?” She nodded at the bottle clutched in his fingers.

  “Four. I think.”

  “You ready to tell me what’s eating you?”

  “I’ve got a pretty good buzz on. Why spoil it?” There was a cheer from the group in the living room. “What’s the score?”

  “Last time I looked it was six, five. Texas.”

  “Do me a favor, Maddy. Get me another beer and go watch the game. Stop worrying about me.” She cocked her head and didn’t move. “I promise. We’ll talk later.”