Ten Beach Road

by Wendy Wax

  “Well, despite all the turmoil, it’s great to see things finally coming together,” Chase said. “With any luck Tropical Storm Bernard will fall apart before that band of thunderstorms gets this far. We probably only need another three to four days on the exterior.” He took another long sip.

  Maddie didn’t know if he was actually unaware of the way Avery was looking at Deirdre or simply hoping to sidestep any further confrontations. Either way, Chase was out of luck.

  “Speaking of ‘not what they seem,’ ” Avery said. “Why don’t you tell everybody why you’re really here, Deirdre,” Avery said.

  Deirdre blinked. One eyebrow arched up in surprise.

  “You know,” Avery continued. “You can start with how you were dropped by Lifetime and pushed aside by younger designers. Then you can explain what a boost this whole experience has been for your sagging career. And while you’re at it, maybe you can fill Kyra and Maddie in on how well you actually know Tonja Kay. Which you could use to segue into how the press found out Kyra was here and carrying Daniel Deranian’s baby.”

  Kyra gasped. Chase stopped fingering his beer bottle. Maddie looked at the designer, not wanting to believe she’d intentionally exposed them, especially Kyra, to all that negative scrutiny. “Is that true?” Maddie asked. “Did you tell Tonja Kay and the press about Kyra?”

  “Oh, no,” Deirdre began, but Maddie didn’t know if it was a denial or dismay.

  “I happened to answer your phone today, Dee,” Avery said, cutting her mother off. “I don’t know if it was your agent or your publicist who called, but she was practically creaming in her pants over how you managed to use Bella Flora—and us—to resurrect your dead career. Apparently some things never change.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Deirdre said. Her shoulders were stiff, her hands had fisted in her lap. “I had no idea it would get so out of hand.”

  The whole thing felt like some kind of train wreck, especially on top of the revelations about Nicole. Maddie wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next, but if Avery’s accusations were true, Deirdre was not going to get off scot-free.

  “You voted Nicole off the job,” Maddie said. “Maybe Deirdre needs to go, too.”

  “This is not the Beach Road version of Survivor,” Chase said, making a small stab at humor.

  Nobody laughed.

  “Maybe it should be,” Maddie said, drawing in a breath, trying to stay calm. She had an almost overwhelming urge to reach over and wrap her hands around the designer’s neck.

  Deirdre remained quiet, her expression uncharacteristically uncertain, her eyes on Avery.

  “Believe me, I’d like nothing better than to send Deirdre on her way,” Avery said. “But at the moment she adds value. She brought the design community here and she’s the face they know.” She shrugged, but her smile was forced and Maddie had no doubt that what Avery felt inside bore no resemblance to her matter-of-fact tone. “Much as it pains me, I think we’re just going to have to use her. Like she’s been using us.”

  Beside her, Kyra simmered silently. Despite her anger, Maddie wasn’t sure whom she pitied more: Deirdre, who seemed to have once again sacrificed her relationship with her daughter to her own needs. Or Avery, who had to once again feel abandoned and deceived.

  Slipping her arm around Kyra’s shoulders, Maddie hugged her own daughter close. “I don’t understand you at all, Deirdre, but I’m putting you on notice right now. If you set those paparazzi on us intentionally and exposed my daughter to all of that nastiness, you better cut those ties right now. And you sure as hell better make sure nothing like that happens here again. Do you understand?” Maddie glared at the designer with all the menace she was feeling and none of the pity. If Maddie had been a Mafia don, Deirdre would already be wearing cement overshoes and standing at the bottom of the pool.

  “I need a nod or some kind of acknowledgment, Deirdre,” she said. “Because I may not understand your relationship with your own daughter, but you are not going to mess around with mine.”

  After a long uncomfortable moment, Deirdre nodded. “None of what happened was intentional. I’m sorry everyone, and especially Kyra, got caught up in it.” She excused herself to go check on something in the house. As they watched her go, Chase lifted a finger like an imaginary gun to his lips and blew on the barrel before reholstering it. He gave Maddie an approving nod, then stood and followed Deirdre inside.

  “Wow,” Avery said to Maddie. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard her apologize before.”

  “Yeah,” Kyra said with a puzzled smile. “My mom is full of surprises. I’m starting to wonder if I ever really knew her at all.”

  Avery slid into her car and backed down the driveway. With no destination in mind, she aimed the Mini Cooper straight up the beach, keeping the Gulf on her left as she drove north from one beach community to the next, trying to absorb Nicole’s betrayal and Deirdre’s disappointing predictability.

  In the Greek fishing village of Tarpon Springs, she stopped at a tiny taverna near the sponge docks, where she wolfed down a Greek salad and gyro and acknowledged that she couldn’t keep driving indefinitely. By the time she headed back down the beach toward Bella Flora, the streets were almost completely deserted. It was close to eleven o’clock when she pulled back onto the brick drive and saw that Chase’s truck was still there.

  Still searching for some sense of calm and craving solitude, she let herself into the main house and stood for a moment in the foyer, inhaling the “new” Bella Flora, which smelled of fresh wood and paint and wallpaper paste with just a hint of “eau de polyurethane.” It was a far cry from the musty neglect that had smacked them in the face on that first day.

  A slash of light fell across the front stairs from the upper landing and Avery trod quietly across the gleaming wood floor, sticking to the protective runners that had been put down, not wanting to talk to Chase or think about Nicole. Unwilling to deal with Deirdre.

  Above her head the iron chandelier hung clean and cobweb free, its hammered finish rippling in the moonlight. To her left the study stood empty except for a row of shelves waiting to be affixed to the wall and a tightly rolled Oriental rug. In the powder room someone had begun painting a wonderful mural of a 1920s era Spanish dancer with billowing skirts and a tightly fitted magenta bodice. In the dining room the chandelier Maddie and Kyra had so painstakingly cleaned and polished dangled over a magnificent stone pedestal dining table with a huge etched glass top. When she stepped into the kitchen and onto the incredible Spanish tile floor that Enrico’s brother, Reggio, had laid two days before, she saw exactly how the room would be and knew it would be not only the show house favorite, but a huge factor in ultimately selling the house.

  She imagined she could hear Bella Flora breathing a long grateful sigh of relief.

  “This kitchen is going to be the ace up John Franklin’s sleeve. Right up there next to the Gulf and bay views.”

  Avery looked up in surprise as Chase walked into the room, his words so closely mirroring her thoughts. She watched him silently, reminding herself that none of what had happened today was Chase’s fault.

  “I know you’re probably still pissed off at Deirdre, but you did the right thing keeping her on.”

  Avery didn’t trust herself to speak. All of her emotions were bubbling way too close to the surface.

  “I realize Webster will never be running her picture in their dictionary to illustrate the word ‘mother,’ but houses speak to her, Avery. And she knows how to listen to them.”

  “And your point is?” Between Nicole’s bombshell and Deirdre’s behavior, it had been a truly sucky day. She’d almost let herself believe that Deirdre had come to Bella Flora to build a relationship with her. She felt like a patsy, duped at every turn.

  “Deirdre has great gifts,” Chase said. “A maternal instinct just isn’t one of them.”

  “No kidding.”

  He came to stand next to her. His dark hair stood up in too many dire
ctions and his cheeks and jaw were dark with stubble. His blue eyes were piercing. “Look, all I’m saying is she is who she is and you’re going to have to find a way to deal with it. You’re so stuck on the fact that she left you, you’re completely unable to move forward. Despite everything you’ve been given and all the opportunities you’ve frittered away.”

  “Frittered away?” she ground out. She couldn’t believe he was going to start this after the day she’d just had.

  “Yep.” He gave her that smug look that said he had it all figured out and she just wasn’t getting it. Avery was tired of the look and the attitude. Hell, she was just tired. He had a gigantic chip on his shoulder when it came to her and it was time to knock it off.

  Avery turned and stepped directly in front of him. “I’ve had enough of your judgments and resentments, Chase Hardin. You don’t have the first idea what you’re talking about, and I’m tired of feeling like I’m somehow supposed to apologize for what I’ve been given.”

  She stopped to see how he was taking it, but he still had a taunting look on his face that needed to be wiped off. “I did not get an architectural degree just to spite you. And I didn’t end up in tight sweaters on national television to make a mockery of all the things you didn’t get.” She was building up a good head of steam. And stoking it with Nicole’s and Deirdre’s betrayals. “We could have enjoyed working together here if you hadn’t needed to rub my nose in my ‘unfair advantages’ the whole time. What about your advantages?” she asked. “What about all the things you’ve had that I haven’t?”

  “Like?” His tone said she couldn’t possibly come up with anything, but he was as wrong about that as he was about her.

  She pressed a finger to his chest and began to tick off each point. “You had a mother who loved you and who would never have chosen to leave you.” She pressed again. “You also had a wife whom you loved and who for some unknown reason actually loved you back and shared her life with you.” The finger press became a poke. “Then there are Jason and Josh, who not only love but worship you.” Another poke. “And a father who’s still alive and whom you get to work with every”—poke—“single”—poke—“day.”

  They were toe to toe, finger to chest, face to, well, also chest, but she’d tilted her head back so that she could watch the emotions flit across his face. He was angry and incredulous and some other things she didn’t have words for. Whether he would think about the things she’d said was uncertain, but at least he didn’t laugh or interrupt.

  “You want me to get over Deirdre’s abandonment and her latest treachery?” She was pretty much shouting now. “Then you need to get over being resentful and pissed off at me all the time when you’re the one who’s had all the real advantages!” She kind of sputtered to a stop, unsure what was supposed to happen now that she’d had her say. Her neck hurt from craning upward and it was possible that her finger was jammed. She dropped her hand and took a step back.

  “Are you finished?” His words were clipped, his tone cool.

  “Yes.” Her anger duly expended, she felt deflated and slightly silly. But she’d be damned if she’d apologize for speaking the truth.

  “Fine!” he said. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Good!” she replied. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “I won’t,” he said. And then he walked out the front door and slammed it behind him, leaving her and Bella Flora together again.

  Nicole wiped dust from the motel room desk and placed her laptop in the center of it. The room was just off of Highway 75 and it was awfully small, unless you compared it to the pool house at Ten Beach Road, in which case it felt downright gargantuan. Its lone mattress was a bit lumpy, but at least it wasn’t crammed between four other mattresses on the floor. She’d sold the last of her vintage dresses and some final accessories to a high-end designer resale shop in Tampa on her way out of town. If she were careful, the money should last her until the twenty-fifth. Tomorrow she’d leave the highway and focus on getting “lost” until then.

  Idly, without admitting what she was doing, she hit the shortcut key for Bella Flora on YouTube and watched Kyra’s latest post. It was titled “Trouble in Paradise” and that’s exactly what it was; lots of troubled face-to-face between all the key players intercut with beauty shots of Bella Flora shown nearing completion in a really cool, time-lapse sort of way.

  Nikki replayed the piece several times, watching the women she’d thought of as friends as well as herself, staggering under the weight of the task they’d undertaken. They’d survived and grown stronger. They’d helped Bella Flora become beautiful again. And then they’d crumbled under the weight of the disappointment that inevitably surfaced when one finally felt safe.

  Thirty-six

  A few days later Maddie lay on her mattress and watched the early morning sun filter in through the pool house blinds. On the futon beside her Kyra slept on her back, her stomach tenting the top sheet, her bare arms flung outward in complete surrender.

  With Nicole and her mattress gone the tiny space felt conspicuously spacious. Her absence had blown a hole in their friendship that would be hard to repair, and although they rarely mentioned her, Maddie could sometimes hear Nikki’s wry tone or sly observation in her mind.

  Beyond Kyra, Deirdre slept curled on her side with her back to the rest of them, her blonde hair cradled on her silk pillowcase. Whatever personal issues might exist in Deirdre’s life apparently didn’t dare intrude on her sleep; Maddie had never heard her toss or turn during the night or woken to find her staring up into the ceiling. Unlike her daughter, Avery, who was a tosser and turner of the first order.

  Maddie checked her cell phone, which was plugged into the wall behind her head, but there was nothing from Steve or Andrew; no response to the messages she’d left. Stretching, she turned to her right and noted Avery’s empty mattress. Maddie didn’t know where in Bella Flora Avery had been sleeping, but she hadn’t slept in the same room as Deirdre since the intercepted phone call.

  Although Maddie had been unable to get Deirdre voted “off,” she felt as if they were, in fact, on some sort of survivor program—the mother/daughter version—on which your relationship might improve or implode.

  The renovation of Bella Flora had proven to be not a sprint but a marathon. As they limped toward the finish line she and Kyra maintained their truce over Kyra’s continued belief in Daniel Deranian’s love for her. Avery and Deirdre’s method of avoiding arguments was not to talk at all. Deirdre also kept her distance from Maddie since the night Maddie had told her off. Kyra thought it funny that Deirdre seemed so skittish around her big, tough mother, but Maddie knew she could have expressed her displeasure a little more diplomatically.

  Maddie rose quietly and flipped on the coffeemaker. In the bathroom she washed her face and brushed her teeth, then pulled on work clothes. Taking a cup of coffee with her, she left the pool house and went out to stand on the seawall where she sipped her coffee and looked out over the pass as the sun continued its ascent over the bay.

  By seven A.M. the temperatures had begun to rise. By nine it would be hot enough to suck the air right out of your lungs. Maddie was embarrassingly thankful that their painting days were over and the professional crew was only days away from completion. She turned to consider Bella Flora’s bright pink castle-like walls, the slender limestone-capped bell tower rising high into the blue sky. Deirdre had said that the pink would fade to a more delicate shade over time, but for now it was the same bright hue that had been applied during Florida’s Mediterranean Revival heyday to combat the Depression-era blues.

  Too antsy to stand still, Maddie set down her coffee cup and took the path to the beach. The usual early morning suspects were already fishing on the jetty with their pelican and gull audience. On the beach, foot traffic was sparse, just the occasional jogger or speed walker with the more dawdling shell seekers doing their eyes-down pause, reach, and stroll. Up in the softer sand a darkly tanned older man skimmed a wand back and
forth in search of dropped change. Walking at the tide line, her bare feet sluicing through the froth of warm water, Maddie breathed in the now-familiar scents and exhaled them slowly, beginning her beach mantra: Everything’s all right. Everything’s okay.

  For a while she simply walked and breathed and tried not to think. At the Don CeSar she turned and began her walk back toward Bella Flora, but no matter how many times she breathed in and breathed out, everything did not feel all right and it most certainly didn’t feel okay. Though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t, Maddie speed dialed her home number and lifted the cell phone to her ear.

  Andrew answered, out of breath. She gave him a moment to catch it.

  “Sorry. Did I get you in the middle of something?”

  “I just got back from a run and I heard the phone ringing.” He breathed for a few moments.

  “I’ve been trying to reach your father. Is he near a phone?”

  “He, um, well . . . actually he’s not here right now.”

  Maddie stopped walking. A dolphin jumped out in the Gulf and a small boy standing near the water’s edge pointed and shouted for his mother. “What’s going on?”

  “Dad took Grandma up to North Carolina. To Aunt Emma’s.” Emma was Edna’s sister and their relationship had always been prickly.

  Maddie’s feet began to move of their own volition. It had never occurred to her that if Steve found the strength to leave the house, he’d head somewhere else. Still, she felt her first real glimmer of hope. “When will they be back?” Maddie asked.

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Andrew said, sounding about twelve. “But Grandma’s house is ready to go on the market. Dad said when he got back we’d come down and he’s . . . better than he was. Grandma got really flipped out when he told her her house was going to have to go. But he didn’t let her talk him out of it.”

  Maddie thought about this as she walked. It wasn’t the home run she’d been hoping for. Steve and Andrew weren’t here. Or even on their way at the moment. But Steve was no longer lying on the couch unable or unwilling to move. It was an elephant bite, a definite something. For the moment it was something to cling to.