Best Beach Ever

by Wendy Wax

  “I know. I’m ashamed of myself for not understanding before now how hard full-time mothers work,” Nikki said. “I’m not that great at it, but I’m trying. It’s just that I can actually feel my brain getting mushy. I love the girls, but they take up every waking second and a lot of the sleeping ones, too. It would be nice to have something besides sleep schedules and the introduction of the right solid foods to think about.” She downed the remainder of her drink as the sun sank closer to the water.

  “How about you, Avery?” Maddie asked. “You’ve been in an unusually good mood the last few days. What’s going on?”

  Avery finished her Cheez Doodle and licked the last of the cheese residue from her fingers. She didn’t bother to hold back the smile she could feel stealing over her face.

  “I’m in a good mood because I have my first non-Sunshine-cottage tiny house client.” Just saying it made her feel good.

  “That’s so great,” Kyra said. “Who are you designing it for?”

  “I was approached by a couple named Wyatt. They want their mother to move in with them. She’s been resisting because she doesn’t want to be a burden or give up her privacy. They’ve got this great spot in their backyard with a water view right over on Vina del Mar. I’m going to design and build a custom tiny house for her.”

  “Cool,” Kyra said.

  “A lot of tiny houses are built elsewhere and moved into position or are built to be mobile, but in this case I think I can build it on-site. Vina’s not even a mile from here.”

  “Is Chase going to work with you?” Maddie asked.

  “No,” Avery said a little faster than was necessary.

  “But you’re obviously back together and you guys worked really well together when you were designing homes for Hardin Morgan,” Kyra said.

  “Well, I’m not just an architect anymore. I have a contractor’s license, so I’m doing this on my own.” She hesitated. “And we’re not back together. We’re just dating.”

  “He was here for three days,” Nikki said. “We never saw either of your faces. We just assumed . . .”

  Avery blushed, but she was a consenting adult. “Well, don’t. I’m not getting in that deep again. Not now.” Possibly not ever. “There’s nothing wrong with just dating and spending time together. And having mind-blowing sex.”

  “Mind-blowing, huh?” Nikki teased. “I’m going to put my jealousy of your sex life aside for the moment because I do believe you’ve come up with another incredibly good thing. And because it’s practically un-American not to drink to truly great sex.”

  Avery grinned and raised her glass as the sun puddled into the gulf sending smudges of light across the surface. They clinked and drained their glasses, their eyes on the display Mother Nature had laid out before them.

  “You know, Avery,” Nikki said in the gathering darkness. “You can call your relationship with Chase whatever you want. But you look pretty ‘together’ to me. In my experience if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck, it is a duck.”

  Maddie smiled enigmatically.

  Kyra laughed and added a final “quack.”

  Five

  “I assume you’re ready to concede that this is a complete waste of time.” Nikki blew a bang out of her eye and repositioned Sofia in her lap. The stream of potential nanny candidates Joe had insisted on interviewing over the last three days had been long and disappointing. Or would have been if she’d actually wanted or needed a nanny.

  “Nothing is a complete waste of time,” Joe said despite the list of crossed-out contenders that proved otherwise. Gemma was curled against his chest, sucking her thumb quietly as if she hadn’t just screamed so loudly through the last two interviews that one candidate had held up her cross as if warding off the devil, and another had fled without saying good-bye.

  “Well, Dorinda seemed competent,” Nikki said. “And she did have a nice smile. But I assume the fact that she felt she could fit both of the girls on her Harley is a deal breaker.”

  Joe shuddered, nodded.

  Nikki looked down at the notes she’d made, mostly to hide her smile. It wasn’t often she got to see Joe squirm. “Now, Mandy was interesting. I thought the whole Goth thing was over. But maybe black lipstick never goes out of style?”

  Joe sat very still.

  “But then we’re looking for a caregiver not a fashionista, right?”

  “Right.” His smile was more of a grimace.

  “I didn’t feel at all good about Pandora’s insistence that keeping the girls on a schedule might stifle their future creativity, but she was the only one who wasn’t at all fazed by the fact that there are two of them.” Nikki looked down at her notes. “Maybe there’d be a better pool of candidates if we pretended we only had one child. I could take Gemma out for a while and let you talk to the next candidate with Sofia.”

  “And when she shows up for work? What then?”

  “I can act like I just discovered a second child we didn’t know we had. Or opened the door and found her in a basket on the front porch. Or . . .”

  “We’re not going to pull a bait and switch with our daughters. And I still cannot understand why you’re so resistant to having help.” Joe repositioned Gemma in the crook of his arm. “I would think you’d be glad to have some time off. And honestly I think it would be best for all three of you while I’m traveling.”

  Gemma put her thumb in her mouth and sucked quietly. She was always happiest in her father’s embrace. But then weren’t they all? “We’ll be fine. And when I need a break or help, I’ll get a babysitter for a few hours. Or ask Avery or Bitsy to come by and lend a hand. And it’s not like Maddie won’t ever be in town.”

  Joe looked at her steadily, his X-ray vision attempting to peel away her defenses.

  “I’m their mother. They’re my responsibility.” Nikki banished any trace of uncertainty from her voice. Mothering might not come naturally to her like it did to Maddie and Kyra, but she would not lean on a stranger to do her job.

  “You know this is not an indictment of your mothering abilities. I love them with all my heart, but there are two of them and only one of you. I have it on good authority that most women would be glad of the help.” He flashed the smile that sometimes made her forget what they were arguing about. “Not that you’re most women.”

  “Surely you have to admit that there hasn’t been a single acceptable candidate yet,” Nikki countered.

  “True,” he conceded. “But we still have one more interview. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be the one.”

  Nikki snorted. “If the last eight candidates are any indication, I doubt it, but I guess you never know.” She looked her husband in the eye, shocked as she always was that he and the girls were hers. “But I want you to agree that if this next one isn’t Mary Poppins or her equivalent, we table the search.”

  Joe flashed his smile again. “I’ll agree to that if you agree to keep an open mind and that if this last candidate is strong, we hire her.”

  Given the people they’d seen so far, the likelihood of this seemed remote. “All right,” she said finally. “If Mary Poppins, or her equivalent, walks through the door today and wants the position, we’ll give it to her. Does that work for you?”

  “It does.” His smile grew and something she couldn’t identify flickered in his eyes.

  The doorbell rang. The noise set Gemma to shrieking. Sofia popped awake and joined in. With a now-squalling Sofia in her arms Nikki went to answer it, wondering if the candidate was already beating a hasty retreat.

  The woman who stood at the opened door did not look like someone who would ever retreat, hastily or otherwise. She was built a bit like a Mack truck. Or a sausage packed too tightly into its casing. Her face was extremely white, as if it rarely saw sunlight. But her eyes were a brilliant emerald green and her hair, which had been pulled back into a tight, serviceable bun, w
as a very deep red.

  “Hullo,” she said in a cheery British accent. “I’m Luvie. Just the one name. Like Madonna.” Without asking she reached out and took Sofia, settling her on one broad hip. Sofia closed her mouth. The crying ceased. “Now then, where’s the other little dumpling?” She marched past Nikki, nodded at Joe, and scooped Gemma out of his arms, something Gemma normally protested at full volume. Gemma barely blinked as the stranger propped her on the other hip. Both girls laid their heads against the prow of her ample bosom. “Now then, why don’t you show me around and tell me what sort of shed-ule you’d like me to keep the girls on.”

  Nicole’s mouth gaped open. Her surprise turned to shock as Gemma reached out a hand to cup the woman’s apple-shaped cheek. Her twin cupped the other.

  Luvie’s cheeks creased with pleasure. “Now then, aren’t you the clever girls?”

  Nikki looked at Joe. He was grinning madly.

  “James Marley sends his thanks and good wishes,” Luvie said to Joe. “Now, why don’t you take yourself off and let us women get acquainted?”

  “Gladly.” He stood and practically saluted. She could see he was trying not to laugh.

  “You!” Nikki pointed a finger at him. “You set me up.”

  Joe laughed out loud while the girls patted Luvie’s cheeks. “No, I just asked a friend for a referral.” He shrugged. “I saved his life once. He wanted to help. Luvie is apparently known in certain London circles, but moved to St. Petersburg a few years ago to look after a family member.”

  “That’s right, dear,” Luvie said. “I stayed on after me mum died. Absolutely love the weather, but have to slather on buckets of sunscreen to keep from crisping like a rasher of bacon.”

  Joe ducked his head to hide his smile but there was no missing his air of satisfaction.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Nikki whispered as he prepared to take himself off.

  Joe only shrugged. “All’s fair in love and childcare. And in case you’re worried, I think you should know that James insists Luvie makes Mary Poppins look like a slacker.”

  * * *

  • • •

  “Yes?” The sound of Troy Matthews’s voice on the other end of the line turned Kyra’s response monosyllabic, some might say curt.

  “You really shouldn’t grit your teeth like that. You could end up with TMJ or lockjaw or something.” Troy Matthews tsked. He sounded far too happy for her liking. Especially since he was being happy in their house.

  “I’m afraid that’s what the mere thought of your existence does to me.” Her teeth weren’t the only things that clenched whenever she pictured him living in Bella Flora. Eating in her kitchen. Sleeping in her bed. Like some twisted version of the Three Bears.

  “Is there something you need?” she asked. “Because I’m pretty sure Franklin Realty is supposed to be handling any problems.”

  “No,” he replied airily. “I was just calling to see if you and Dustin would like to go out on the boat this afternoon.”

  “You have a boat?”

  “Of course I have a boat. I am living on the water. It would be kind of odd not to bring my boat.”

  “Oh, so you already had a boat. Where do you normally keep it?” She really wanted to tell him where to shove that boat, but managed to keep the suggestion to herself.

  “At my house on the other coast.”

  Kyra swore under her breath. She’d already shown more interest than she wanted to. She would not ask whether he meant the east coast of Florida or the west coast of the United States. She did not care how many homes he owned or what kind of toys he kept in them. The only question that mattered was why he’d needed to take hers. But she was not going to give him the satisfaction of asking.

  “You really should consider having a dock put in here. I had to rent a boat slip at the yacht club. You’re talking to a brand-new member of the St. Petersburg Yacht Club at Pass-a-Grille.”

  “That’s great. But we’re busy.”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  “Also busy.”

  “Seriously? I didn’t even say what time.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m completely busy getting ready for the shoot in Orlando.”

  She smiled at the silence that followed. She treated herself to a mental picture of Troy Matthews gritting or possibly even gnashing his pearly whites.

  “Then how about I just take Dustin?”

  Silence.

  “I’ve taken care of Dustin before. I can come pick him up if you don’t want to drop him at the house or the yacht club. I can even pick him up in the boat. He’d probably love that.”

  She closed her eyes and attempted to count to ten.

  “You can think of it as babysitting. Maybe you and Maddie can go shopping or to a movie or a museum or something.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Why don’t you ask Dustin if he’d like to come out on the boat with me?”

  “I am not asking Dustin that question or any question that concerns you. We’re . . .”

  “Ask me what, Mommy?”

  She hadn’t heard him come back in from walking Max with her mother. She looked over her shoulder and saw Maddie standing behind Dustin in the bedroom doorway. Max stopped slurping water from his bowl and came to poke his head around Dustin. All three of them looked at her expectantly.

  “Why don’t you put Dustin on so I can invite him personally?” Troy asked cheerfully.

  “No.”

  “So you would deprive your son of an afternoon on the boat because . . . ?”

  “Who is it, Mommy?”

  “No one important.” Kyra closed her eyes and took what was meant to be a calming breath. It was bad enough knowing Troy was living in their home. She would not let him insinuate himself into their lives, too.

  “I thought you were working on a project.”

  “Oh, I am. But you know what they say about all work and no play.”

  “Who is it, Mommy?” Dustin was standing at her side now and reaching up for the phone. “Is it my Dandiel?”

  “No.” She hesitated briefly but refused to allow Troy to cause her to lie to her son. “It’s just Troy.”

  “Broy!” Dustin’s face lit up. “Can I talk to him?” He reached out a hand.

  Kyra sighed. She had no problem refusing Troy. She could tell him no until the earth stood still. But Dustin’s big brown pleading eyes were another thing altogether.

  * * *

  • • •

  Avery took the Twenty-first Street bridge off Pass-a-Grille Way onto Vina del Mar. According to Realtor John Franklin, who had lived on Pass-a-Grille since God was a boy, the lovely island neighborhood had begun life as a submerged coral reef covered in mangroves and been dredged up into its current shape in the early fifties. Somewhere along the way the pedestrian “Mud Key” had evolved into the far more elegant “Vineyard of the Sea,” and development had flourished.

  The home that now belonged to Jonathan and Sandra Wyatt was a sixties ranch that had been enlarged and no doubt updated over the last decades. Architecturally it was unremarkable. Its view over the bay and Bird Key was not.

  She followed the couple around the house to the backyard, where Jonathan’s mother, Martha, waited. She stood beneath a stand of palm trees that swayed lazily in the breeze. Sun glinted off the water. Birds soared with wings outstretched like a squadron on maneuvers.

  “What a gorgeous spot,” Avery said as the introductions were made.

  “Yes. The sun rises right over there.” Martha Wyatt raised an age-spotted hand and pointed a gnarled finger due east. “And if we build here, it won’t block the view from the main house.”

  “I keep telling her we’re not worried about any of that.” Like his mother, Jonathan Wyatt was tall and lean with even features. His wife, Sandra, was small
er and rounder with the no-nonsense manner of the emergency room nurse she was.

  “We’ve begged her to stay in the house with us,” Sandra said. “She raised Jonathan and his sister in it—but she turned us down.”

  “We all need our privacy,” Martha interjected. “Plus I’m the one who gets a brand-new custom-built house.” She cocked her head of short white curls in Avery’s direction. “What do you think of this spot?”

  Avery considered the main house, the placement of the home’s windows, and the hedge that ran up the property line. “Honestly, I think it’s perfect. There’s plenty of shade but there will be sunlight, too, it commands a million-dollar view, and if we add a row of mature hibiscus right here, both homes will have almost complete privacy.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought.” Martha smiled. “Renée Franklin told me you were a smart girl.” Her face was heavily lined and her skin was leathered from the years in the sun, but her dark eyes were sharp. “What happens next?”

  “Don’t you want to look at some of Avery’s work? Maybe speak to some of her former clients?” her son asked.

  “Renée and John Franklin’s recommendation is good enough for me.” Martha’s tone indicated that was the end of the conversation. “You’re hired,” she said to Avery. I’m eighty-five. I don’t have any time to waste. What do we do first?”

  “First you both sit.” Jonathan pulled two Adirondack chairs into the shade and held one steady while his mother lowered herself into it. By the time Avery had taken the other chair and opened her notebook, Sandra had returned with two tall glasses of iced tea. She placed a cell phone on the other arm of her mother-in-law’s chair. “We’ll leave you two to it. Just call if you need anything.”

  For a moment Avery and her new client sipped their iced teas and stared out over the water.

  “I never thought I’d have a new home at this age,” Martha said quietly. “But I’m glad for the adventure. And I’ll be grateful if I can see the sunrise from here every day until the end.”