by Wendy Wax
“Well, we do have the estimate from the pool guy. But it could be another month before the work gets scheduled.”
Madeline dropped down on the chair, letting the wand clatter to the concrete. Grime and water coated her skin. She was far too tired to go inside for the glass of iced tea she wished she were sipping right now. Her exhaustion wasn’t just physical. Earlier this morning she’d managed to get Steve on the phone and then spent thirty grueling minutes trying, unsuccessfully, to convince him to show up for a counseling appointment she’d scheduled for him. Maddie sighed and turned her gaze out over the water. It was a good thing it wasn’t sunset; she’d be hard-pressed to come up with a good thing right now.
“Nicole was smart to bail out,” Maddie said. “She’s probably soaking in a Jacuzzi right now.” Kyra had come back late yesterday and her description of Bitsy Baynard’s estate still rankled. “Or floating in that invisible-edge pool with an umbrella drink in her hand.”
“No doubt,” Avery said.
Madeline pushed away the images of Nicole in her vintage designer clothing schmoozing with the socialites. “Well, at least the folks there hate Malcolm Dyer as much as we do. It’s amazing how many people he managed to dupe.”
“I’d like to meet that asshole’s family and ask them how they can live with themselves,” Avery agreed. “But then they’re probably too busy enjoying themselves to worry about it.”
“Well, I just hope I never meet any of them,” Maddie replied. “I’ve never thought of myself as a violent person, but I don’t think I could be held responsible for my actions.”
She dropped her head back and concentrated on the warmth of the sun on her face. She willed herself to relax.
“Hey, Mom!” Kyra’s voice floated down to her from above. “Phone!”
Madeline opened her eyes and saw Kyra leaning over the master bedroom balcony. “It’s Andrew.”
Madeline stifled a groan. Conversations with Steve were infrequent and futile. Conversations with Andrew, who was now back in Atlanta for the summer and most likely the fall, were frequent. And frustrating.
“I don’t think we’re finished here yet.” She looked hopefully at Avery. “Are we?”
Avery shook her head.
“He says he needs to talk to you now.” Kyra made her way down the curl of wrought-iron steps and handed Maddie the phone, plopping down beside her. Kyra wore a pair of Soffes and a tank top that clung to her slightly rounded stomach and barely contained her burgeoning bust. It wouldn’t be long before her pregnancy became noticeable.
“Hi, sweetie,” Maddie said. “What do you need?”
What her son needed, it turned out, was everything from her attention to some sort of vacation. He was both whiny and angry. At the moment he sounded about five years old.
“Slow down, Andrew,” she said, trying to extract the important points from his litany of woe. “What exactly are you calling me for?” He’d barely been home from school for a week and she’d already lost track of the things he thought she should take care of from five hundred miles away. If remote laundry had been possible, she had no doubt he’d expect her to be doing a load right now.
“I want to go to the beach for a week with the guys. Everyone’s chipping in on a condo in Destin.”
“And what did your father say when you asked him?” she asked although the answer seemed obvious.
“He wouldn’t even talk to me about it.” Andrew’s voice was tinged with both anger and amazement. “He told me to call you.”
Maddie closed her eyes against the hurt in her son’s voice. The demands and belligerence were far easier to deal with; she was no longer impressed or swayed by them. “We can’t afford it, Andrew. Period. If the house down here gets finished by Labor Day and sold sometime in the fall, we can get back on our feet, but for now there is no money. We all have to hold on as best we can.”
There was what could only be described as a sullen silence. And then, “What’s wrong with Dad? He just lies on the couch all day.”
Madeline felt the sting of tears and willed them away. “He’s having a hard time dealing with what’s happened. He feels responsible, and he doesn’t seem to be able to move forward.” Just talking about it dredged up that morning’s conversation and reminded her how completely alone she felt without Steve to turn to.
“Can’t you come home?” he asked in a voice she hadn’t heard in years.
“No.” This was the truth as far as it went. The part she kept to herself was that she was relieved that she couldn’t. She just couldn’t deal with one more thing. “At the moment this house is our best hope. And the more hands we have working on it, the faster we can put it on the market.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line, and she pictured her son not as the strapping six-footer he’d become, but as the small sweet boy who’d worshipped his father and gone so out of his way to please.
“Look, Drew, your father’s going to have to find a way back to himself. I’ve been trying to push and pull him there, but it doesn’t work that way. I’d like him to get some professional help, but I can’t even get him to admit he needs it.” And, of course, they’d have to come up with the money to pay for it.
“Well, it’s not up to me,” he said. “I don’t know what to do. I just want to go to the beach like everybody else.”
Part of her wanted to tell him it would be okay, that she’d somehow find the money and that things would get better soon. But everything wasn’t okay and this was not the time to coddle him. Her mother-in-law’s love for Steve had always felt far too fervent to Maddie. After his father’s death, Steve had become the center of his mother’s universe; but worship didn’t necessarily build backbone. Andrew was no longer a child and she needed his help.
She stood and walked with the phone to the edge of the seawall. Though she looked out over the Gulf and breathed in the warm salt air, in her mind she saw her son holding on to his childhood as tightly as he could. She shoved the image away.
“You’re an adult now, Andrew, and your family needs you. You’re going to oversee the repairs at Grandma’s and when her house is ready, I want you to call our neighbor Mrs. Richmond and tell her we want to list the house for sale. I’ll email you the details.”
“No. I’m going to the beach,” he said. “I want . . .”
“What we each want doesn’t matter anymore,” Maddie said. “Our family’s in trouble and it’s up to all of us to pitch in.” She felt the pinprick of tears again and she shoved those away, too. Her hurt and anger blended into a potent cocktail; she wasn’t prepared to play the Little Red Hen a moment longer. She had a family and they needed to step up to the plate. “What defines us isn’t how we behave when things are good, Andrew, but how we respond when they aren’t.”
“Where’d you get that?” he sneered. “Off a frickin’ fortune cookie?” Then he hung up on her, leaving her staring out over Shell Key with no idea of what he would or wouldn’t do.
Maddie walked back to the pool deck and handed the phone to Kyra.
“Is everything okay at home?” Kyra asked.
Maddie looked at her daughter with her ripening body and her gray eyes clouded with uncertainty. How had everything changed so unexpectedly? She felt as if her family had been standing on a fault line all along and only discovered it when the earth began to tremble beneath their feet.
“No,” Maddie said. “Of course not. But it’s as okay as it’s going to be for a while.”
Kyra carried the phone back inside. Madeline and Avery forced themselves to their feet, turned on the pressure washer, and took aim at the outbuilding. Madeline watched the grime of close to a century wash down the stucco and soak into the ground; too bad a life couldn’t be pressure washed as easily.
They worked without speaking, and after a while Maddie lost herself in the whoosh of the spray and the hum of the machine’s motor, going back to just a year ago when everything had seemed so promising, so normal.
“Oh
, my God, Maddie. Stop!” Avery grabbed her hand and tried to redirect it even as a small hole began to appear in the wall. “The psi is too strong to hold it in one spot like that.”
There were short beeps of what turned out to be a boat horn, and they whirled toward the sound, sending a spray of soapy water arcing over the seawall toward the sleek black boat floating beside it.
“Hey!” Chase Hardin shouted as the spray hit the water beside him, shoving the boat away from the wall and kicking a spray of seawater on Chase. Josh and Jason ducked. His father laughed out loud.
“Oh!” Madeline didn’t know how to turn off the wand.
Avery grabbed Maddie’s arm and the spray hit Chase in the shoulder before she could redirect it. Avery aimed her wand at a patch of scrub grass beyond the house, which was quickly blasted to smithereens.
Josh and Jason stayed down. Jeff Hardin was still smiling, but he moved out of the line of fire.
“Hey, cut it out!” Chase yelled from the boat. “Turn it off!”
Avery aimed both wands out over the seawall but away from the boat. Her gaze stayed on Chase, who sputtered and glared back.
“I don’t know,” Avery said to Maddie. “I’ve been dying to wash his mouth out with soap from the first day he started calling me Vanna. But I guess we don’t want to put a hole in him like we did the garage.” She threw Maddie a hopeful glance. “Do we?”
“We do not,” Maddie said. She took the wands and waited for Avery to turn them and the pressure washer off.
They walked, still dripping, to the edge of the seawall. The boat idled a few feet out, its side coated with soap. Chase was wiping his face with a beach towel. His T-shirt was plastered to his body. “Good shot,” he said dryly. “Thanks for the wash.”
“Sorry,” Avery said, though she didn’t sound the least bit regretful. “My hand slipped.”
“Right.” He rubbed his hair and dropped the sopping towel on the deck while the boys tried to mask their laughter. He nosed the boat closer.
“We came to see if you ladies would like to go out for a ride,” Jeff Hardin said. “We’ve got a picnic. We’re going to anchor off the beach over at Fort De Soto.”
“Oh.” Avery turned to Maddie and gave her a small shake of the head. “No,” she began just as Maddie said, “That sounds great.”
Avery raised an eyebrow her way, but for once Maddie didn’t care. It was a beautiful day and anything that might take her mind off of their predicament and the work still to be done was way too good to pass up. “Do you have room for all three of us?” Maddie asked. “Kyra’s inside.”
“Sure,” Jeff Hardin said. “Why don’t you get her and meet us over at the Cottage Inn dock? It’ll be easier to board there.”
Avery turned back to the Hardins. “Look, it’s really nice of you to ask, but . . .”
“What?” Chase asked. “Is there something in the monkey handbook about fraternizing with the boss?”
“You are so not the boss.” Avery’s chin went up a notch.
Chase folded his arms across his chest.
Good grief. Maddie felt as if she were in the middle of a Rock Hudson/Doris Day movie. “Children, children,” she said in her best “mother” voice. “It’s way too beautiful a day to be acting out some fifties battle of the sexes film.” She took Avery by the shoulders and turned her away from Chase. “Let me just get Kyra. We’ll meet you there in five minutes.”
Fifteen minutes later she sat next to Avery on the bow of Hard Case, their backs braced against the exterior wall of the cabin, her knees pulled to her chest, her bare feet flat on the deck. Warm salt air skimmed over her, whipping her T-shirt around her, as the boat sliced through the water. Occasionally she closed her eyes just to draw the fabulous feeling even deeper inside her. “God, I hate to sound like a cliché,” she said, “but this really is the life.”
Avery nodded. Her bikini top clung to her ample bosom, her legs, short but shapely, were stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles. She’d pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, but curly strands had pulled free and were streaming behind her with the wind.
“The Hardins have always had a boat,” she said, raising her voice just enough to be heard over the motor and the wind. “I used to love and hate going on it.”
Maddie considered Avery’s profile. The childlike freshness of her face belied the strength of her features and the determined set of her chin. When you added the curves and the bust and the short stature, it made it easy to dismiss that strength. She wondered how many men had made that mistake and how many ever even attempted to look beyond the pert good looks. Based on their roles on Hammer and Nail, her husband hadn’t. And whoever produced the show certainly hadn’t bothered to present the real Avery, who was so much more than she’d seemed on TV.
“I’m getting the love part.” Maddie also raised her voice, knowing that nothing could be heard behind them. “I’d like to stay here and never go back to the real world. But why the hate?”
Avery tilted her head back and closed her eyes, and Maddie wasn’t sure she was going to answer.
“Did something happen between your families?”
“I think it was just the jealousy, you know?” Avery hesitated again, but Maddie waited her out.
“They seemed so complete. And my dad and I were so . . . not. I mean we loved each other and were always there for each other, you know.” She opened her eyes and turned to face Maddie. “I miss him like crazy. But I don’t think either of us ever really got over being abandoned. There was always this gaping hole that we didn’t know how to fill.”
“Your parents were divorced?”
“Oh, yeah.” Avery nodded, but turned her gaze back to the waterfront mansions that flew by, each with its yacht moored behind it. “Deirdre left when I was thirteen. Just decided she didn’t want to be a wife or a mother. I guess re-covering celebrity sofas was a nobler calling.” Her face was still as stone in stark contrast to her hair, which flew around it like snakes. “You know what I remember most about her leaving?”
Maddie waited.
“I got my period for the first time two days after she left. And I had to ask my dad to go to the store to get me sanitary napkins.” A sad smile played at the corner of her lips. “It was so pathetic. I can’t think about it to this day without picturing him in the drugstore trying to figure out what kind to buy.” All these years later and Avery’s voice was still thick with pain.
“Do you see her?”
“Not if I can help it.” Avery wrapped her arms around herself even though the wind that blew over them was warm as a caress. “Not that she ever beat my door down or anything. We went years without a word from her. And then her work started showing up in magazines and she was the go-to designer to the stars. Every once in a while she shows up and doesn’t understand why we can’t start over.” She drew her knees up to her chest and opened her arms to include them.
The boat slowed for a no-wake zone, and they passed Tierra Verde’s sprawling condos and headed directly toward the Skyway Bridge. Maddie sat up and turned to get a glimpse of Kyra, who sat next to Jeff Hardin, her head fallen back, a small smile on her lips. No one could love you or hurt you more than your mother. And Kyra was about to tackle that trickiest of jobs on her own.
“Did she ever tell you why?” Maddie asked, turning back.
“I don’t care why,” Avery replied. “You can’t just walk away from your own flesh and blood and then reappear and ask for a do-over. It doesn’t work that way.”
They rode in silence for a time, moving into the intracoastal waterway, the sun and water and steady roar of the boat’s powerful engine as soothing as a deep-tissue massage.
Then they were picking up speed again and running along the massive bridge. They passed a large island teeming with birds and the boat made a right and slowed slightly. Jet Skis skimmed by, buzzing around the larger boats like insects around livestock.
“There’s the fort!” one of the boys shouted
as a long sliver of white beach appeared on their left, the ruins of a fort still standing off at one end.
The boat slowed and turned toward the beach.
“Let’s pull in over there, Dad!” Jason said.
“Here, you take us in,” Chase said, cutting their speed a notch further as his oldest stepped behind the wheel and rested a hand on the throttle.
Josh opened a rear compartment and pulled out a coil of rope with an anchor tied to its end. Jason slowed the boat further until they were putting slowly toward an empty stretch of beach dotted with stands of palm trees. There wasn’t another human being in sight.
Chase stood between his sons watching, but not intruding, as Jason maneuvered in and aimed directly for the beach. The boat slowed further.
“It’s deep enough right off the beach to pull up onto the sand,” Chase explained from the other side of the windshield. Josh joined them on the bow, quickly tying the anchor line to a cleat.
At Chase’s nod, Jason pulled all the way back on the throttle and cut the motor. A few moments later the bow slid up onto the beach so smoothly Maddie was surprised when the boat stopped. Josh clambered off and set the anchor up on the beach.
“Good job,” Chase said as he clapped Jason on the back, then climbed up on the bow and gave a hard tug on the anchor line. “Just right, Josh.”
His sons beamed at the praise while their grandfather added his own nod of approval. No “but” followed, no suggestion on how it might have been done better, how performance might be improved next time. Maddie liked that and found herself offering Chase and his father her own nod of approval as they handed her and then Kyra down with some ceremony. Avery insisted on disembarking herself and the Hardins made no comment. Jason and Chase brought up the rear, carrying blankets and a cooler.
“I feel like we’re on our own desert island,” Kyra said as she pulled off her T-shirt and stretched out on one end of a blanket. A tiny pouch rose above the top of her neon green bikini bottom and the tiny top rode her burgeoning breasts like triangular band aids. “I think I’m going to catch a little nap.”