The House on Mermaid Point

by Wendy Wax

  Nicole looked down at her phone. “It’s almost one A.M. Why?”

  “I remember Hudson saying that sometimes you just have to wait for high tide to help you float off the flat.”

  “How long are we talking?” Deirdre asked.

  Maddie thought for a minute. “I think there’s a site that has tide information on it. Salt . . . Salt Tides or something like that.”

  Nicole applied her thumbs to her phone. “I’m Googling.”

  Avery stared stupidly at her own phone. “Do we have any flares we can shoot in the air?”

  Maddie opened the storage compartment beneath their seats, looked in the side storage wells, pawed through the life vests, and lifted all the cushions. “I don’t know!”

  The only boat traffic was way out beyond Alligator Reef. “I feel like I’m on some deserted rural road with a flat tire.”

  Avery began to hum “Dueling Banjos.” Maddie shot her a look.

  “Sorry.” Avery’s thumbs moved on her phone. A strong pinpoint of light appeared. “My flashlight app.” She waved the beam of light back and forth, aiming it toward the island.

  Maddie thought she saw a glint of something from the beach on Mermaid Point, but it was so brief she couldn’t be sure.

  Avery added her voice. “S.O.S.! Stranded women! Help!” Her shouts hung in the night sky, skimmed over the dark water. No one and nothing responded.

  “Can you do Morse code with that app?” Deirdre nodded to the pinprick of light coming from Avery’s phone.

  “I’ll check.” Avery shut off the flashlight while she searched for the directions for sending a distress signal. “Does anybody have anything to write on?”

  “None of us brought a purse,” Deirdre reminded her. “Just an ID and a credit card in our pocket.”

  “That’s a relief,” Avery quipped. “At least when they find our bodies washed out to sea they’ll be able to identify us.”

  “Very funny.” Deirdre’s voice was tight.

  “I’ve got Saltwatertides.com.” Nicole stared down at her screen. “Let me just put in Islamorada.” Her thumbs moved again. Maddie watched her scroll down. “Here it is . . . damn.” She slumped in her seat. “High tide is at four twenty-two A.M.”

  “Oh, good.” Deirdre’s tone was far drier than their surroundings. “Only a little over three hours from now.”

  “And that’s assuming all we need is a higher tide. I think something might have happened to the motor.” Maddie wrapped her arms around the motor and tried once again to lift it. “It’s definitely stuck. I can’t even get it to budge.”

  Avery had apparently given up on Morse code and was once again waving the pinpoint of light at the island. “Hey! Help! Over here!”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “Maybe someone should try to unstick the motor. Can’t we just get out and try to push the boat to deeper water?”

  “We can try.” Maddie caught herself following Avery’s flashlight beam. Surely if anyone on Mermaid Point could see them they’d do something to help.

  “I nominate Avery for chief pusher since her ridiculous desire to flash her butt got us in this mess,” Nicole said.

  “But it’s dark and we don’t know what’s down there.” Deirdre looked from the ocean to Avery.

  “Well, whatever it is can’t be very big. There’s not even a foot of water here.” Avery stood.

  “I don’t want you to go in there alone,” Deirdre said. “You’ve been drinking and there could be some big drop-off or something.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re hoping for?” Nicole caught Deirdre looking at her. “I’m not going in there without shoes and these are vintage Valentino.” She held up the bright red heels. A clump of sand fell out of one of them.

  “I’m fine and I don’t need company. Here, hold the flashlight over the side so I can see.” Avery placed her phone in Deirdre’s hand and swung both legs over the side of the boat. For several seconds she stood taller than the boat. Then she appeared to slip. “I’m sinking!” She grabbed for the side of the boat, her arms flailing as she tried to get her balance. “It’s all mucky down here!” She bent as if feeling around for something. “Damn, one of my shoes came off. I can’t . . .” Head bent, Avery felt around some more. “It’s gone!”

  Deirdre aimed the phone flashlight just behind Avery to try to illuminate the water. “Oh, my God! There’s a fin!” Deirdre dropped the phone and lunged forward to grab Avery’s hands.

  “No, don’t . . . I’m . . .” Avery began.

  Before she could finish or anyone else could move, Deirdre had yanked Avery halfway into the boat, where she teetered before landing in a heap at Deirdre’s feet. She lay in a pool of water she’d brought with her.

  “I’m sure it’s just a nurse shark or a stingray I accidentally disturbed,” she finished.

  “Does anyone have Will or Roberto’s phone number?” Nicole asked.

  They all shook their heads. Avery sat up but remained in the bottom of the boat. Maddie had Hudson’s number but she wasn’t calling anyone. Fin sightings aside, they were in such shallow water and so close to Mermaid Point that she felt far more embarrassed than frightened.

  “Maybe we should call the Coast Guard,” Nicole said.

  Maddie demurred. “We’re not in serious danger. And I’m still hoping we can float off with the tide. I don’t think any of us have a spare couple of thousand to pay a fine.”

  They all looked haggard, but no one disagreed.

  “Maybe there’s a private towing service.” Nicole glanced down at her phone screen. “You know, like a nautical AAA.”

  “Probably.” Avery removed the one shoe that remained on her foot. “But we don’t know if they’re twenty-four-hour. And chances are, middle-of-the-night calls are a lot more expensive than regular business hours.”

  Maddie checked the time on her phone. “It’s after two A.M.”

  Avery groaned. “The outdoor kitchen people will be there between six and seven because they wanted to finish installing in time to shoot the video. They’re bringing their own film crew with them. We have to be back before then.”

  Maddie pulled the life vests out of the storage hold and began to distribute them.

  “Are you worried that we’re going to capsize or end up in the ocean?” Deirdre asked as she took hers.

  “No.” At the moment Maddie thought being swallowed up by the sea might be preferable to having to admit that she’d run aground the very first time she’d captained even so small a boat by herself. “We have enough of these for everyone to have one for a pillow.” She plumped the bright orange vest, which was way drier than her clothing. “If we’re going to be alert enough to take advantage of the tide when it comes back in, we should try to get at least an hour or two of shut-eye.”

  With that Maddie curled up in the spot where she’d been sitting and determinedly closed her eyes. “And anyone who says, ‘Good night, John-Boy,’ or tries to flash anything or anyone is going to be sleeping with the fishes.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Troy and Anthony weren’t the only camera crew that filmed their less-than-triumphant return to Mermaid Point. A boatload of paparazzi paced them in the channel, which wasn’t difficult since they were paddling the Jon Boat at slightly less than tortoise speed. Nigel leaned over the side of the paparazzi’s boat, his voice filled with hope and happiness. “Is everyone all right, then? No one injured in the little mishap?” He peered at each of them through his camera lens, smiling as if he wanted to jump onto their boat and kiss each and every bedraggled one of them. But none of the photographers offered them a line or a tow, perhaps for fear of spoiling their shots.

  They’d left most of the propeller in the silt bottom of the flat they’d spent the night on and had spent close to an hour, after the tide finally rose, attempting to push the Jon Boat free. They’d taken turns padd
ling toward Mermaid Point and arrived soaked and salt caked, with silt and sand and bits of coral rock ground into their skin and hair. Kyra and Troy shot their arrival alongside an unfamiliar crew whom Maddie assumed must belong to the kitchen company. William, Hudson, Roberto, and Fred looked on. Dustin hung in a papooselike contraption affixed on Kyra’s back. He peered over his mother’s shoulder.

  “You look a little tired.” William Hightower’s amused tone set Maddie’s teeth on edge. “I understand you had a spontaneous sleepover out on the flat.” For a quiet to sometimes silent person, he sounded downright playful.

  “You saw us and left us there.” Maddie couldn’t quite believe it. “It didn’t occur to you to come and get us?”

  “Well, we did discuss it,” William replied. “Roberto was looking ‘inward’ for a clear sign that you weren’t there intentionally. Fred considered constructing a series of surfaces that you might be able to walk over if Roberto could find that sign. Hudson didn’t want to embarrass you.”

  “And you?” Maddie couldn’t help asking.

  “I saw it as an important rite of passage.” He flashed a white-toothed smile. “And I was kind of curious to see whether Avery would moon us or not. We may have placed a few bets on whether she’d be able to talk any of you into joining her.”

  “You heard everything we said.” This was not a question.

  “Sound carries.” He lifted one shoulder and smiled again.

  “And I wasn’t imagining those flashes of a lens or a light or something over here.” This wasn’t a question, either.

  “I do have a telescope and binoculars. They’re usually aimed out over the water.”

  Maddie did not have enough rested brain cells to formulate a fitting response. Apparently Avery, Deirdre, and Nicole were equally bereft because they, too, remained silent.

  Finally Hudson cleared his throat. “I’ll hose down the boat for you in a few minutes. I can take a look at the propeller, too.”

  “Thank you.” Maddie was gratified to see that Hudson’s expression was far more concerned and infinitely less mischievous than William Hightower’s. “Of course we’ll pay for any damage that we might have done.”

  A tall, curvy brunette detached herself from the extra film crew and extended her hand. “I’m Jeanne Bletzer with Kreative Kitchens.” She shook hands with each of them. “I’ll be producing the cooking video. I’m very relieved that you made it back in one piece.” She spoke to them while keeping an eye on William Hightower. “I’m so glad we were here to catch your arrival.”

  Avery rubbed at a crick in her neck. Her lone surviving shoe dangled from her fingertips. “If we could have agreed on a plan for freeing the propeller, we might have made it back sooner.” She turned a baleful glance on Deirdre.

  “I was only thinking of your safety.” Deirdre brushed a sandy lock of hair out of her eye where Maddie had never seen it dare fall before.

  “We were in less than a foot of water, maybe closer to two after the tide came in. I’m pretty sure none of those things you ‘sighted’ were shark fins.” Avery sighed. “You scared that poor turtle practically out of its shell. And you yanked me back into the boat so many times I don’t think my arms are the same length anymore.”

  Even Hudson laughed at that before he began to unroll the hose.

  “The kitchen’s being installed right now,” Jeanne explained. “We’d hoped to get some shots of Will and whoever is going to be his ‘cook’s helper’ during the installation.”

  “That’s Madeline,” Will said.

  “Me? Oh, no. I’m just going to be there for moral support.” Maddie looked down at her bedraggled self. “I’ll come down to the pavilion later on when William starts cooking to cheer him on.” She made to leave the dock.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” William reached out and wrapped a hand around her upper arm. He leaned closer so that his warm breath tickled her ear. “The only reason I’m here is because I thought I might have to come retrieve you. Otherwise I would have been long gone.”

  She looked down at the filthy arm he hadn’t let go of, then up into William’s eyes. “I’m not the celebrity here. And I’m not . . .”

  “We actually think our female customers will love imagining themselves cooking with William Hightower. It’s practically a fantasy come true. You’ll be their stand-in.” The producer’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

  “If Maddie doesn’t cook, I don’t, either.” William’s eyes refused to let go of hers. “End of story.”

  Maddie withdrew her arm from his too-warm grasp. “You left us sitting out there all night, while you were laying bets, like it was some big joke. What if something had gone wrong?” It was only now that they’d gotten back safely that she realized how worried she’d been.

  “Then I would have come and gotten you.” He presented this as a simple truth.

  “And how would you have known if we needed you?” Maddie asked. “How would you have known if we’d washed overboard or ripped ourselves to shreds on that stupid coral rock?”

  There was a pronounced tic in his cheek, but he didn’t respond. It was Hudson who stopped unrolling the hose to answer the questions she’d hurled at William. “He would have known because the man spent the entire night on the hammock keeping watch. He wouldn’t even let anyone else take a turn so he could sleep.” Hudson aimed a look at his friend.

  Roberto bopped his head in agreement. Fred Strahlendorf nodded crisply. Jeanne Bletzer looked her up and down, this time with equal parts interest and surprise.

  “It’s true, Mom.” Kyra had stopped filming. She came over to join them. “When I woke up this morning and realized you hadn’t come back I went racing outside and I found William on the hammock where he’d clearly camped out. He let me look at you through his binoculars. And he told me that you’d handled yourself like an ‘old salt.’ And that you were all right.” She smiled. “Although he failed to mention the possible mooning. I know we’re all sorry we missed that.”

  “I only missed it because William told Anthony and me that he’d drop-kick us and our equipment off the island if I pulled out my video camera.” Troy sounded aggrieved. “Lisa Hogan is going to be all over me. I’m thinking about trying to buy some of this morning’s video from one of the paparazzi to pass off as my own.”

  “I like the drop-kicking part.” Kyra shot the network cameraman a look. “Wish I’d thought of it first.”

  Maddie couldn’t think what to say. But a warm little glow stole into her chest.

  “So how long do you think it’ll take you to get dressed and, um, freshened up?” the producer asked.

  Maddie must have looked as dazed as she felt because Deirdre stepped up beside her. “Maddie, we definitely need to do what Jeanne’s asking. Providing video of Will cooking in his new outdoor kitchen is part of our agreement.” Deirdre linked an arm through hers. “I’ve got enough makeup and hair products on board to erase your lack of sleep and even a couple years or two.”

  “Deirdre’s right.” Nicole stepped up on her other side. “We need you to do this. I’ve got some accessories and a blouse that might dress things up a bit. Between us we can have you all dolled up and ready for your close-up in well under an hour.”

  Maddie let them lead her back to the houseboat, where they shoved her under a stream of cold water, which they tried to blame on the ancient water heater. Then they sat her down and got down to some serious fussing, primping, and rearranging of what felt like every inch of her. Two overly aggressive fairy godmothers dressing Cinderella for the ball.

  • • •

  It was actually over an hour before Madeline Singer was delivered to what was now his permanent outdoor kitchen and their temporary cooking set. Will blinked in surprise when Deirdre and Nicole escorted her onto the set like stylists delivering a model to her photo shoot. Maddie still had thick dark hair that fell below
her shoulders, nice, even features, and intelligent brown eyes but at the moment she bore almost no resemblance to the woman who’d arrived on his island stammering out her name.

  Her hair had been nowhere near this straight and shiny when she’d been too nervous to take off her cover-up before she got in the pool or when she’d fed him and Dustin PB&J sandwiches and gwape juice. Her eyes looked twice their normal size and her lashes curled like butterfly wings. In fact, the women had smoothed and painted all the “comfortable” right out of her face so that her cheekbones seemed higher and more angled, her nose thinner and less upturned.

  And she sure as hell hadn’t been wearing nubby turquoise pants and a soft white blouse that was unbuttoned low enough that he could tell she was wearing some flimsy lacy push-up bra underneath it when he’d found her emptying his closet and manhandling his underwear.

  They stood beside each other while the grips adjusted and readjusted the lights and the camera crews settled into position. He tried not to watch while the sound guy threaded a microphone wire up underneath the front of her blouse and clipped it to the low V where it fell open. When Kyra came up to brush her mother’s hair back off her shoulder Will could see just how much the two resembled each other.

  Maddie moved so carefully he could tell she was afraid to wrinkle what had to be borrowed clothing. Occasionally she ran a hand over her hair then looked surprised at how it felt. He knew that he should compliment her appearance. But the truth was he liked the way she looked better when she didn’t look quite so good.

  He wasn’t completely stupid, though, so he told her how great she looked. And riled her up intentionally just a little bit so she wouldn’t be nervous.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked when the lighting guy directed them to turn toward each other so that their key lights could be checked yet again. Will didn’t actually know whether he’d dragged her into this to get back at her for keeping him up worrying all night or simply to yank her chain, but he realized now as the crew bustled around them that although she’d been caught on camera for hours on end for Do Over, she’d never had to perform on cue or play directly to a camera—all things he’d done more times than he could count. Though this might be one of the few times he’d ever done it sober.