One Good Thing

by Wendy Wax

  Nikki grasped her stomach in both hands and repositioned herself against the pillows as best she could. Her eyes settled on her swollen ankles and feet, which despite all the lying around, resembled rubber gloves filled with air and then tied off. For the first time she noticed not only how fat her toes looked, but how badly she needed a pedicure. Her gaze shifted to her hands resting on top of her stomach and she winced at the sight of her chipped, jagged fingernails. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d put on makeup.

  At the game table Renée went over drawings with one of her garden club friends. “First a group works on the cottage garden—they’ll construct the partial wall around it after we finish. Then our sand gardeners start here”—she placed a finger at the upper edge of the drawing—“and work toward the structure.” Renée took a sip of a cold drink. “Thank goodness Annelise feels well enough to sit and sell beach club memberships with Randy.”

  They discussed the setup of the sales tables in the shade beneath the overhang just near the roof deck stairs. Nikki’s eyes fluttered sleepily as Renée talked about the cooler of complimentary ice cream sandwiches and bottled waters that Nonna Sofia would hand out, which would sit next to the check-in table that Gabriella and Joe Senior had volunteered to man.

  For a time she hovered between sleep and wakefulness, listening and watching while floating above it all like a near-death patient hovering over the operating table observing resuscitation attempts. The rise and fall of Steve Singer and John Franklin’s voices floated through the open window from the loggia, where they were strategizing how to deal with the Realtors that had RSVPd. She was aware of Kyra moving among them shooting video. For a moment Nikki considered telling her no close-ups, but even that seemed vaguely unimportant as she floated above it all, only loosely tethered to the activity around her.

  She awoke to the smell of cheese and opened her eyes to find Avery holding a slice of pizza under her nose. The smell was lovely but not at all tempting. Who ate on a cloud? She closed her eyes once again and floated higher. There but not.

  “Nikki?” This time she opened her eyes to Maddie leaning over her. “Would you rather have something besides pizza? Or make a trip to the bathroom?”

  Caught somewhere between the cloud she’d been resting on and the bed she seemed to be lying in, Nikki grasped Maddie’s hand and squeezed it with an urgency that surprised them both. Words she’d never allowed herself to think, let alone utter, rushed out in a hoarse whisper. “If anything happens to me, you’ll keep an eye out for my babies, won’t you?”

  Maddie straightened sharply. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Nikki. If you don’t go into labor this weekend, we’ll report to the hospital first thing Monday morning for your C-section. Dr. Payne said that all systems are go.”

  As if she were a space shuttle or a rocket about to be launched. Sometimes even when all systems were go, they didn’t achieve liftoff. Sometimes they made it off the launch pad only to explode and incinerate in the atmosphere. “Promise me.”

  “It’s normal to be apprehensive, but I’m sure everything will go just fine.” Maddie’s tone was soothing.

  “If a choice has to be made, I want the babies to be saved. Not me.” Her eyes were open now but it was a chaotic operating room she was seeing, not the salon at Bella Flora. Or even Maddie’s face. “For Joe.”

  “Nikki, you need to stop this right now. You don’t want to put those kinds of thoughts in your head.”

  But she hadn’t put them there, she was just communicating them. Making sure her bases were covered.

  “Are you all right?” Maddie’s eyes ranged over her. “Does something feel off? Should I call the—”

  “Just promise me.”

  “Of course I promise.” Maddie swallowed as Nikki’s eyes focused on her face. “I understand what you’re saying, but Joe will be there. The paperwork will reflect your preferences and you and he will make these kinds of decisions should they ever become necessary.”

  “But he’s not my husband,” Nikki whispered. “He’s not legally responsible for decisions about me.”

  Her cell phone rang. When she made no move, Maddie picked it up. Nikki saw the relief on her face and knew it was Joe. “Here.” She handed Nikki the phone. “And please. Stop worrying.”

  Nikki nodded because there was no real alternative. But her thoughts began to clear. As she raised the phone to her ear, the fear began to recede. She’d never given birth before, had ceased to imagine that it could happen long ago, but her body pulsed with readiness. It was too late for worry or fear. There were no clouds to hide behind. Whatever came next, she would fight her hardest, but the outcome was out of her control.

  “What’s going on there? It sounds like a party.” Joe’s voice was crisp and clear.

  “I’m lying in the middle of . . . command central . . .” she said, searching for a light tone. “Too bad Bitsy wasn’t available to help plan the Normandy invasion. I’ve never seen such highly developed organizational skills.”

  “How are you feeling?” The concern in his voice was like a caress.

  “Exhausted. Huge. Ready. I can practically feel your children trying to kick the door open. Or maybe they think they can punch their way out.” She tried to keep the neediness out of her voice when she asked, “You are going to be back before Monday morning?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve turned the witness over, and all I have to do now is finish up the paperwork. I managed to get a seat on a red-eye tonight. It’s not direct, but I should be in Tampa just before ten A.M. tomorrow morning.”

  The air left Nikki’s lungs in a rush of relief. “Thank God. Because I’m ready as I’m ever going to be, but I . . . I don’t want to do this without you.” A smile tugged at her lips. “After all, this is all your doing.”

  “I do believe we both had a hand in it,” he teased. “And other body parts, too.”

  She wanted to tease him back, but her longing for him was too great. She couldn’t remember why she hadn’t told him more often how much she loved him or why she’d refused to marry him when she’d had the chance. She only knew that she was a more complete and better person when she was with him. And that she wanted desperately to give him the family he deserved. “Just hurry up and get home,” she said. “Because I have no intention of going to that hospital without you.”

  • • •

  Despite all there was to do and discuss, Maddie couldn’t stop checking the time on her phone. Or walking down the central hallway to the foyer and then into the living room to stare out the front windows.

  A text dinged in when Will’s plane landed. Another arrived when he was in the car. Each message, each mile closer, lightened her mood until she was practically levitating with anticipation.

  She felt Steve’s eyes on her and saw his frowns, but couldn’t have stopped even if she’d wanted to. She went through the motions, confirmed and double-checked every detail Bitsy brought up, held Nikki’s hand, wiped pizza sauce off Dustin’s face, and welcomed the Giraldis when they stopped by, but the whole time her brain kept repeating, Will’s coming. Will’s on his way. He’ll be here any minute.

  The doorbell had barely begun ringing before she was speed walking toward the door as if someone else might race her for the privilege of opening it.

  It should have been awkward after their time apart, the insertion of Lori with an i, the fact that he’d soon be leaving on tour, but Maddie was too busy throwing her arms around his neck and being pulled into his arms, to think about it. His lips on hers said all the things she needed to hear and more.

  “I saw all the cars,” he said, still holding her tightly. “Would it be too obvious if we just went upstairs first and then said hello later?”

  Her laughter was muffled against his lips and she felt deliciously wicked as she imagined stealing upstairs together. “It’s tempting,” she admitted. “But I doubt I could re
lax with everyone sitting wide awake just one floor below us.” Or face them afterward.

  “Good point,” he murmured against her ear. “Would it be rude to ask them to leave?”

  She laughed again, dizzy as a teenager just from having him there. “Given that this is not my house and there’s an extremely pregnant woman currently living in the salon, I’m thinking that’s out,” she whispered. “But it’s already nine o’clock. Dustin’s in bed, the Giraldis were just leaving, and Avery, Chase, and his dad are headed back to Tampa soon. Tomorrow’s a huge day for everyone. I’m thinking thirty to forty-five minutes tops.”

  “All right, Maddie-fan.” His large hands held her close. “I think I can make that, but after forty-five minutes, all bets are off. I’ve been thinking about getting you in bed since I left Mermaid Point.” He kissed her again, and the press of his lips and body made every nerve ending tingle. Heat rose in her cheeks. Her lips felt tender as they lifted into what she suspected was a goofy smile.

  “Come on.” She took him by the hand and led him into the salon, where she spent the next forty-three point two minutes watching his face as he made conversation while she flitted about seeing to Nikki, walking the Giraldis to the door, hugging Avery and the Hardins good night. The loopy smile remained plastered to her face.

  Nikki was tucked in for the night, and Kyra had begun packing up her video gear for the morning. Only Steve remained in the salon when Will rose and said, “I think I’m ready to turn in. Maddie?”

  She was careful not to look at Steve’s face as she nodded and allowed Will to take her hand and pull her to her feet. “G’night,” she said in Steve’s general direction and loudly enough for Kyra to hear her in the kitchen. “See you all in the morning.”

  “Singer.” Will nodded to Steve, slid his arm around Maddie’s shoulders, and led her out of the salon, up the stairs, and into her bedroom, where he closed the door behind them with a soft click.

  “Thank God.” He turned her so that her back pressed against the hard surface of the door. His kiss was hot and searing. His fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse with intent. The touch of his hands on her skin as it was bared caused a fierce tug of desire deep within her. His lips moved down her neck to the hollow of her shoulder. The warmth of his breath made her shiver as he said, “I don’t think I could have gone even another thirty seconds without having you.”

  • • •

  Kyra turned off the kitchen light then walked quietly through the salon to check the back doors. The moon glowed high over the dark water of the pass and sent pinpricks of light shimmering across it. The pool house was dark, but she could make out her father’s form on one of the chaises. With a sigh, she let herself out and walked slowly toward him.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, lowering herself onto the edge of the chaise next to his.

  “Yes. I just . . . I just can’t stand seeing her with him.” His eyes remained on the water. “I hate knowing they’re in bed together.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I know I screwed everything up. I know she’s a grown woman. I know she has every right to sleep with anyone she wants to.” He turned to face her and she saw the glisten of tears in his eyes. Her father, whom she’d once idolized, had lost pretty much everything. Then he’d underestimated, and ultimately driven away, her mother. “Intellectually, I know that we’re not getting back together. But . . . knowing and seeing? Those are completely different things.”

  She heard the unhappiness and regret ring in her father’s voice, saw it carved into his face by the moonlight. This, she reminded herself, was what happened when you behaved stupidly and let the best thing that had ever happened to you get away. “You seem to be liking real estate and working with John Franklin. Maybe it’s time to move out on your own and, I don’t know, try to meet other women.”

  Her father looked almost as startled by her suggestion as she was. “I’d have to actually sell something to afford my own place. I really thought I had that house in Belle Vista sold. But honestly, kitten, I planned to put that commission toward your interest payment on the loan.” He hesitated before asking, “You weren’t able to make the first one, were you?”

  “No.” The knot of panic tightened in her chest. “I have part of it set aside from my share from the sale of Joe’s cottage, and I’ve been careful about what I spend from Daniel’s child support. But I really thought more units would have sold by now, and I was sure we’d be able to find a buyer for the documentary.” She sighed. “You were dead-on about the difference between knowing and seeing. I knew I was putting Bella Flora at risk, but I didn’t seriously let myself envision losing her.”

  “I’m sorry, Kyra. I feel terrible. It’s really all my fault.”

  “No. I’m the one who made the decision,” she said. “This is on me, not you.”

  “But you’d never even heard of a hard money loan before I told you.”

  “You explained it and you warned me,” Kyra said. “You are not to blame.” No, that “honor” belonged to her.

  They sat in silence for a long moment, watching the spill of moonlight dapple the dark.

  “Let’s hope tomorrow goes well,” her father said gently. “For everyone’s sake.” He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the chaise, and clasped one of her hands in his.

  “Believe me, I’m way past hoping and on my way to praying,” she said, looking up at the fortress-like walls of the only home her son had really known. “I don’t ever want to have to tell Dustin or my mother that it’s time to pack our bags and move because Bella Flora doesn’t belong to us anymore.” She couldn’t even bear to imagine Daniel’s anger if he ever heard that she’d pledged and lost the home he’d given them.

  Twenty-four

  Bitsy spent Friday night tossing and turning, her mind crammed with details, her nerve endings jangling as she scrolled through her mental checklist for the next day, an exercise that didn’t come close to counting sheep. Or puffy white clouds. Or any of the other kinder, gentler things she’d attempted to turn her thoughts to during the long hours before dawn. Like the money she’d raised for charity, the scholarships she’d created and funded, the good she’d done. She’d been taught that a great fortune carried great responsibility and she’d tried to abide by that precept. Right up until she’d managed to lose it.

  She dressed in the weak predawn light then did a final sweep of the cottage. Anything that didn’t fit into a drawer or a closed cupboard had been removed so that Steve and John Franklin could show the cottage. Packets including floor plans and renderings of the “tiny house” built-in version were stacked on the dinette table. She pulled out the chocolate chip cookie–scented spray she’d bought and spritzed it into the air.

  Outside, as she waited for Sherlock to anoint his favorite palm tree, she contemplated the silent property of which she’d been the sole occupant since Nikki had moved to Bella Flora.

  The chaises surrounding the swimming pool were still coated with dew. The breeze off the Gulf was light and tangy. It whipped the tarps that covered the mounds of extra sand that had been delivered the day before. The sky grew lighter, the beach and Gulf more defined, as Sherlock sniffed and then lifted a leg on his second favorite palm tree. When he whimpered up at her, she lifted him in one arm then carried him up to the rooftop deck. Leaning over the eastern railing, she looked past the Sunshine cottages and over the condo building across Pass-a-Grille Way to watch the sun begin its ascent. Birds rose from the dark green mass of the Bird Island Preserve in the small bayou and a fishing boat angled past it and out into the bay. The houses that rimmed the water began to stand out in stark relief.

  “So what do you think, Sherlock?” she asked quietly, reluctant to disturb the tranquil beauty that surrounded them. “Are we ready?”

  He gave her a snuffling woof. His long, rough tongue lapped her cheek in a warmer, truer sign of affection than any she could remember. Her n
erves tingled with an unfamiliar excitement. She’d chaired and hosted much larger events than the Sand Castle Showdown, but while many had been for very worthy causes, few had felt quite so personal. What happened today would impact the people who had given her a home, small though it might be, and help determine all of their futures.

  From her vantage point, she saw Avery’s Mini Cooper pull into a parking spot on the street. Avery emerged with a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand and a chunk of what looked like coffee cake in the other. Chase’s pickup pulled in a few minutes later. Josh and Jason climbed out of the truck bed, and even from this distance the difference in their body language and attitudes was apparent. Josh pulled a wheelchair out of the truck bed and positioned it near the passenger side then helped Chase get Jeff settled in it while Jason slumped against the side of the truck and only began unloading it after sharp words from his father.

  Kyra, Dustin, and Steve arrived in the minivan with the Giraldis, Annelise, and the Franklins just behind them. She heard sounds in the building beneath her. The Giraldi women moved slowly, helping Nikki into Joe’s cottage to await his return. The rest of the crew resembled ants on their way to a picnic as they transported balloons, helium tanks, decorations, and signs to the pool area. A few minutes later Randy, who managed the dining room and rooftop grille, emerged to set up coffee and donuts on a tabletop that he fit over the vintage ice cream cooler from which ice cream sandwiches and waters would be dispensed later in the day.

  Bitsy hurried down the stairs in time to see Maddie arrive with Will. Her smile was blinding and her eyes were concealed behind dark glasses even though the sun was not yet a factor. Will kissed her with a smoldering slowness that had Steve clenching his jaw. She looked, Bitsy thought, like a woman who hadn’t gotten much sleep but for the best possible reasons.

  After that it was semi-controlled chaos as Will, Chase, and his boys trooped out to remove the tarps from the mounded sand and cordon off and label the patches of sand that would belong to each team. Jason pushed his grandfather in the beach wheelchair that the Sunshine now owned.