One Good Thing

by Wendy Wax

  “He’s lost his head,” Jeff said. “I know this isn’t what he wants. He’s just too damned proud to back off and too hurt right now to see reason.”

  “He’s not the only one. But I don’t really see what I can do about it.” She had no projects waiting, no Do Over, and no family except for this man and the women with whom she’d thrown in her lot. If she thought about that now, she’d be blubbering all over the place. “I hope you know how much you mean to me.” She wrapped her arms around Jeff’s frail shoulders and hugged him as tightly as she dared. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself. And that you’ll call if you need anything at all.”

  He hugged her back and placed a fatherly kiss on the top of her head. “Ditto.”

  With a last wobbly smile she turned and left, pulling the front door shut behind her.

  • • •

  He appeared so out of context that at first Kyra didn’t understand what she was seeing. Then she thought she must be imagining him. That he was a figment of her imagination. Or a human mirage. But no, Daniel Deranian was sitting across a picnic table from her father at the Paradise Grille while Nigel and several other paparazzi snapped photographs.

  “Dandiel!” Dustin sat up straight in the jogging stroller and pointed. “Dandiel and Geedad. Go there!”

  Kyra wheeled the stroller toward their table, doing her best not to give the photographers a close-up of her son’s angelic face or her own angry, sweat-stained one. She’d run two miles down the beach and two miles back up and she was a sodden mess, her T-shirt and running shorts clinging to her body, her high ponytail held up in a scrunchy. She wasn’t particularly vain and had never sought attention, but she flinched at the thought of her current self splashed across tabloid covers undoubtedly positioned next to an angelically beautiful and professionally airbrushed Tonja Kay. She could imagine the tagline under her photo—Who would you choose? Or, So not worth it? Or maybe even, What was Daniel thinking?

  She reined in those pointless worries. Any possible future humiliation was nothing compared to the more important questions like, What was Daniel still doing here? Why had he brought photographers again? And what was her father, who’d never had any use for the man he’d referred to as an overrated, overpaid prick of a movie star, saying to him so earnestly?

  Dustin unbuckled the seat belt, climbed out of the stroller, and went straight to Daniel, who lifted him into his lap. Her father’s face flushed guiltily. “Kyra. I thought you were taking Dustin to see the babies at the hospital?”

  “Nope. Nikki and Joe are bringing the babies home in a couple of hours.” She advanced on the two of them, slid onto the bench beside her father. “So what’s going on here?”

  “Your father was just filling me in on your financial situation.”

  Kyra froze at the steely look in Daniel’s eyes, which bore no resemblance to the conversational tone of his voice, or the amiable expression on his face. Once again, she was reminded of what he did for a living and how good he was at it.

  “I’m having a hard time understanding how you could put the home I purchased for you two at risk.”

  She turned to her father. “I can’t believe you ran and told him.”

  “I didn’t run anywhere. Your mother made me see things in a somewhat different light, and I decided he had a right to know that you might lose Bella Flora.”

  “Because you think he’s the only person who would put more money in to keep us from losing her.”

  “Isn’t he?”

  “All we need to meet the payments is to realize some profit from the documentary and for you to sell some cottages,” she snapped. “Which would be a way better use of your time than carrying tales to Daniel.”

  “But they’re not tales, are they?” Daniel said. “Did you or did you not take out a loan against Bella Flora that you can’t pay back?”

  She closed her eyes. Warned herself not to react. She did not want to upset Dustin or tip off the paparazzi to drama of any kind. “There have been setbacks I wasn’t expecting,” she said stiffly. “But I have every intention of paying off the loan.”

  “So in essence, you would risk losing the only home our son has really known rather than let him act in a movie with me?” Again there was no venom. His words were almost gentle. Only the brown eyes, which had turned darker than she’d ever seen them, gave him away.

  “Wanna hact with Dandiel!” Dustin chimed in happily.

  “I don’t want him acting at all. And certainly not with you and Tonja,” she whispered. She tried to build her own anger at her father’s betrayal. Wanted to tell herself that Daniel was out of line in pressing her on this, but she had given him the ammunition. She shouldn’t be surprised that he was using it.

  “You would turn down the million dollars that would make this mess you’ve made go away?”

  Her father’s eyes widened in surprise. Kyra said nothing. When put that way, it sounded ridiculous. As did her actions.

  “Well, I’m not going to let that happen.” Daniel slid an envelope across the table. “This is a complaint of fiscal irresponsibility filed on Dustin’s behalf. If you agree to let him do The Exchange, his salary will be used to pay off the loan. Then Bella Flora will be put in his name only, and the asset will be placed in trust for him. That trust will be overseen by a trustee of my choosing until he becomes an adult. You would also receive a salary for being on set with him.”

  “And if I’m able to pay off the loan? Or continue to make the payments without being late?”

  “That seems unlikely, doesn’t it, princess?” her father said.

  “Unlikely is not the same thing as impossible.” She said this through clenched lips, her eyes on Daniel’s face.

  “Casting will be finalized this summer. Preproduction takes place this fall. I expect to start shooting mid-January. I guess if you were able to pay off the loan in its entirety or make, say, six months’ worth of payments in advance, you might look slightly less fiscally irresponsible. But I wouldn’t need Dustin on set for more than six weeks. I think it would take you a lot longer than that to defend your actions or come up with that kind of money. And Dustin does have two parents.”

  “Kyra, turn around, luv!” Nigel’s voice rang out. “Let me get a shot of the family!”

  “Any announcements coming?” the photographer named Bill called.

  Daniel raised an eyebrow at Kyra. She ignored him and the photographers as she snatched up the envelope. “Come on, Dustin. Say good-bye to Daniel and Gee-dad.” She stood and wheeled the stroller to the other side of the table, where she lifted Dustin off Daniel’s lap and placed him back in the stroller. She did not speak or so much as glance at her father as she wheeled her son out of camera range and down the sidewalk toward the house she’d risked and, for all intents and purposes, lost.

  Thirty

  The cottage smelled of tomato sauce and melted cheese when Nikki and Joe brought the twins home from the hospital. All three Giraldis were there to welcome and feed them while Kyra shot video to document the occasion, undeterred by Nikki’s unmade-up face, unbrushed hair, and vomit-stained shirt. Baby Sofia, who had slept all the way home in the car, still slept peacefully on her father’s shoulder, her dark hair awry, one tiny fist pressed to her cheek. Their red-haired daughter, who had screamed through the entire twenty-five-minute car ride despite Nikki’s best and increasingly frantic efforts to soothe her, cried on.

  “I cannot believe you brought her home with only the name ‘Numero Due,’” Nonna Sofia said, reaching for the squalling twin. The moment Joe’s grandmother cradled her to her chest, the crying stopped. “How will she know who she is without a name?”

  Savoring the quiet, Nikki lowered herself into a dinette chair and tried to shrug off the criticism along with the fact that everyone but her seemed to know where to find her daughter’s “off” switch.

  “Names are important
, Nonna,” Gabriella chided softly as she removed a large baking dish from the oven. “There’s nothing wrong with taking time to think the decision through.”

  Nikki drew in a deep breath, but her heart continued to beat wildly and her head still rang with the screams that had reverberated through the car.

  “Mother’s right,” Joe said easily. “Especially when you already have your namesake sewn up.” He glanced down at baby Sofia, who still slept soundly on his shoulder. “I doubt Sofia’s sister will be starting school with only a number for a name.”

  Nikki looked at Joe. He remained calm and unruffled no matter what the babies did, when the first hint of a cry made her want to flee.

  Kyra lowered the camera. “Theo James plays a character called Four in the Divergent series. An Italian number could sound exotic and make her stand out from all the Emmas and Bellas.”

  “They’re only four days old,” Gabriella said, gently cupping her granddaughter’s head of red hair. “This one has a strong personality.”

  “She has good lungs, that’s all,” Joe Senior offered. “My cousin Magdelena trained as an opera singer. Maybe this is an early form of singing.”

  Maddie emerged from the nursery to join them. Relief coursed through Nikki as she met Maddie’s calm, reassuring gaze and warm smile. She tried to return that smile with trembling lips.

  “Will you have something to eat?” Gabriella asked Nikki.

  “It smells wonderful.” Nikki tried the smile again. “But I don’t think I could eat anything right now.”

  “You must keep up your strength for the babies,” Nonna Sofia said, quietly glancing down at the sleeping child in her arms. “How else can you produce the milk they need?”

  Nikki dropped her gaze as her eyes blurred with tears. So far nursing had been a nightmare, one more thing she’d been spectacularly inept at and couldn’t imagine mastering.

  “How about a slice of bread and butter? Or perhaps a small bowl of applesauce?” Gabriella asked.

  “No, but thank you.” Nikki blinked back the tears.

  “Are you all right?” Joe asked, rising and handing Sofia to his father. His eyes plumbed hers.

  “I’m just tired,” Nikki said carefully. “If it’s all right, I’d like to lie down for a little while.” She kept her voice even and her eyes on his in an effort to hide her fear and uncertainty.

  “Of course,” Gabriella said. “We have lots of available arms that want to hold these two.”

  And all of them, including Joe Senior, could comfort her babies better than she could. Her babies.

  “That’s right,” Maddie said. “And we can bring them in when they get hungry. It’s best to feed them at the same time, get them on the same schedule if you can. Otherwise you’ll never get any sleep.” It was a testament to Maddie’s diplomacy that she managed to avoid the use of names or numerals of any kind.

  “Thank you,” Nikki said as Joe helped her to her feet. “I appreciate it. And I appreciate you all being here. I just—”

  “No need for apologies,” Gabriella said. “We understand completely. We’re here to make things easier. You rest, Nikki. Joe, let me dish you up a plate so you can eat while Maddie helps Nicole get settled.”

  Nonna Sofia and Joe Senior settled on the couch, each with a baby sleeping peacefully in their arms. Joe kissed Nikki on the cheek then sat as instructed while his mother went back to the stove and began dishing up heaping bowls of manicotti, but Nikki felt their eyes follow her as she moved slowly down the small hall with Maddie’s arm wrapped gently around her shoulders.

  • • •

  Kyra sat in front of the computer monitor in her bedroom late the next afternoon as she reran the segment she’d just pulled from the original Sunshine Hotel documentary. Her worktable, which sat in front of the second-floor window, afforded a bird’s-eye view over the back deck, the pass, and Shell Island beyond it. For the last hour and a half, that view had included Avery, who’d spent that time pacing a crooked loop of the deck, the pool, and the seawall, only disappearing from sight briefly when she passed behind the reclinata palm.

  There was a light knock on the open bedroom door before Maddie walked in and came to stand behind Kyra’s chair. “She’s going to wear a hole in the concrete if she doesn’t stop soon.”

  “Feel free to go tell her that,” Kyra said, raising her eyes from the monitor to follow Avery’s progress. “I said something earlier, you know, about how she might want to have it out with Chase, and she told me to mind my own business and started pacing faster. She’s all yours.”

  “I think we need to let her wear herself out a little first,” Maddie said. “In fact, I thought maybe we could leave it until we do our sunset toasts.”

  Kyra raised her eyes to the pale blue sky and the still-bright sun that filled it. “I don’t care how long we wait, I don’t think you’re going to get even one small good thing out of her tonight. But I guess it’s worth a try. Dad said he’d take Dustin to Gigi’s for pizza and then to the playground.” She hesitated. “I think it’s his way of apologizing for telling Daniel about the loan.”

  Her mother sighed. Placing her hands on the back of Kyra’s chair, she turned it so that they faced each other. “Your father should never have suggested that kind of loan, and you shouldn’t have taken that kind of risk with Bella Flora—certainly not without discussing it. But Daniel was entitled to know, and I can understand why he was upset.”

  Her mother’s eyes held hers. Kyra fought the urge to squirm.

  “Dad only told him because he thought Daniel would offer to help. But I wouldn’t have taken the money even if he had. And of course, that’s not what happened.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Kyra watched her mother’s face, noted its disapproval, and felt it keenly. Her mother could be almost relentlessly positive and liked to insist that the glass was, in fact, half full. But she was not one to sidestep what she saw as an important, if painful, conversation. In this case it was fortunate that she wasn’t an “I told you so” sort of person and that she was able to move on once she’d made her point.

  Kyra breathed a small sigh of relief when Maddie motioned to the computer screen and said, “So what are you working on?”

  Kyra turned and moved her mouse to rouse the video. “I just finished re-editing the first third of the Sunshine Hotel documentary.”

  “Why? I thought you and Troy finished it some time ago.”

  “We finished an hour-long documentary, produced by the crew who were still under contract to Do Over.”

  “Which means?”

  “Which means that the network can tie us up and prevent us from trying to sell the television rights. But our contract doesn’t prevent us from streaming video and/or making that video available for free.” Kyra cued up the first of ten short segments she’d created. Below, Avery continued to pace.

  “But why would you want to give away something you worked so hard on?” her mother asked.

  Kyra’s hand hovered near the mouse. “Because I can’t stand letting them lock us up the way they have or wasting this fabulous story,” Kyra said.

  “But what does giving it away in bits and pieces accomplish?”

  “Well, it makes me feel better for one thing and makes the footage virtually worthless to the network. And I think it could help keep the Sunshine Hotel and Beach Club in front of people. Which might help sell more memberships and cottages, which would help Renée and Annelise and maybe help us get back some of the money we all invested in the renovation.” She rewound the segment and saved it, then cued up the next. Swiveling her desk chair, she looked up at her mother. “And if you subtract the financial pressure and desperation that prompted the project, I actually loved making the documentary. It’s a great format, Mom. And I think these segments will make perfect demo material. Besides, I don’t like people telling me what I can
and can’t do. Or forcing me to do or agree to something I think is wrong.” Kyra winced as soon as the words left her mouth. Had she really just reintroduced the topic she’d been so relieved to leave?

  Maddie did not come out and shout, “Gotcha!” She did fold her arms across her chest and look Kyra in the eye.

  “No, I didn’t mean to bring it up.” Kyra stood, shook her head. There was no room to fall back with the desk already pressing into the backs of her thighs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I know you don’t. But you have to think this all the way through.”

  “Mom . . .” Standing, she could look down at her mother rather than up, but it didn’t seem to matter.

  “Sweetheart. Daniel is Dustin’s father,” her mother said in that quiet, reasonable tone that was so hard to argue with and pretty much impossible to ignore. “He makes movies for a living and now he’s going to direct one. Would it really be so bad to let Dustin do this one film with him?”

  Kyra’s chin jutted out just as it always did when she was digging in for an argument. She began to fold her arms across her chest and only stopped when she noticed she was mirroring her mother.

  “All I’m saying is try to open your mind and give this real thought,” Maddie said. “Dustin didn’t even go through the terrible twos—he skipped right over them. He’s extremely mature for a child his age and shockingly easygoing. He loves spending time with his father. And it’s obvious Daniel is crazy in love with him and would watch out for him. Plus you would be there to guide and protect him.”

  “But Tonja Kay and their children will be there, too. And you know how much she hates me and how jealous she is of Dustin.” So angry that Kyra had been the one to give Daniel a biological child that she’d tried to take Dustin away from her.