Sunshine Beach

by Wendy Wax

  Chapter Forty-six

  Avery left to meet the Hardins for an initial walk-through while Maddie packed a cooler of drinks and assorted sandwiches. Kyra and Dustin rode in the limo with Daniel, who seemed disappointed that he couldn’t affix a sign that read Follow me!

  Nikki had come back from her walk looking decidedly more relaxed and said a very long good-bye to Joe. An odd smile flitted on and off her face. Despite her general aversion to minivans she’d decided to ride with Maddie and Steve.

  “I’m not going to have to own one of these, am I?” Nikki asked as she slid into one of the captain’s chairs in the back. “I mean, it’s not a requirement or anything?”

  “No.” Maddie laughed. “But you’ll probably want one. Two car seats will fit a lot better in one of these.”

  “Yeah, the Jag’s probably not going to cut it,” Steve added, ignoring Nikki’s strangled groan. “I got rid of my Corvette when Kyra was born. I hardly missed it at all after the first year or two.”

  They arrived at the Sunshine Hotel and found Avery, Chase, his father, and Ray Flamingo in deep discussion. Troy had gotten there ahead of them and was already shooting.

  Daniel stood next to Kyra. “It’s like a time capsule from the fifties, isn’t it?”

  Maddie nodded.

  “Bohzer!” Dustin raced toward the bright yellow earthmover parked near the main building.

  Maddie’s heart sank at the sight of it. The idea that a shiny new high-rise or multimillion-dollar home might soon stand in this spot made it sink even lower.

  “Up!” Dustin said, raising both hands above his head. “Want to ride the bohzer!” The cab was locked, but Daniel sat Dustin on a flat space above its track where he made driving and zooming sounds for a few minutes. As soon as his feet were back on the ground he raced out onto the beach with Daniel behind him.

  Avery, the Hardins, and Ray Flamingo stood in a knot between the main building and the pool, their expressions intent. Not wanting to interrupt, Maddie wandered over to the low concrete wall and stared out over the beach. The late afternoon sun still glowed bright, sending shards of sunlight glinting off the aquamarine water. Seagulls soared and dipped in the sky, unperturbed by the parasailer that floated by. At the water’s edge a family of four left the decidedly lopsided sand castle they’d been building to peer out into the Gulf. Daniel and Dustin, who’d been tossing a football around, went to see what they were pointing at.

  “Geema!” Dustin raced toward her a short while later, his legs pumping as he attempted to outrun his father. “We sawed dolpins! A whole family of dolpins! They were eating!” He arrived out of breath, his dark curls bouncing. His face was smeared with sand and flushed with excitement. “Can I give the dolpins a handwitch?”

  Daniel laughed aloud. Maddie saw Kyra’s eyes seek him out, watched them share a smile. “I think they like fish better,” Steve said. “But I’m sure if you ask her nicely, your Geema will break out the peanut butter and jelly.”

  Avery and her crew came over to join them on the blankets that had been spread out on the sand. She and Chase got Jeff settled in a beach chair braced against the low concrete wall while drinks came out of the cooler and sandwiches were passed around. Avery sat between Chase and Ray, an unwrapped sandwich in her lap. She leaned back on her hands, her face turned up to the sun. The pose appeared reflective, but Maddie could feel the energy coming off her and imagined she could see the wheels turning in her head.

  “I have a catalogue in the car with a reproduction lifeguard stand in it,” Ray said, his sherbet-colored shirt fluttering slightly in the hot breeze. “When I first came across it, I could practically see John Franklin sitting up there in his nineteen-fifties bathing trunks and muscle T-shirt trying to get Renée’s attention.”

  “He told us that he kissed her for the first time right over next to that cabbage palm,” Maddie said, pointing to the nearby stand of trees. She remembered the expression on his face when he’d shared the memory. “Their whole history is tied to this place.”

  “Have you reached any decisions?” Kyra asked.

  Avery looked at Chase and Jeff, older and younger models of each other, before answering. “We’ve agreed that even with the new infusion of capital we can’t do everything. That we have to do what matters most and focus on the most valuable part of this property.”

  “Which is?” Kyra asked.

  “What we’re all staring at.” Jeff nodded toward the Gulf and its white sand frame.

  “Which means we were right when we decided to deal with the main building and the pool area,” Chase added. “A million dollars sounds like a lot but it’ll only go so far.”

  Dustin finished his sandwich and crawled into his mother’s lap with his juice box. Daniel smiled down at him.

  “This beach has a really nice casual vibe. It’s less showy than South Beach or even Fort Lauderdale,” Daniel observed, his shoulder brushing Kyra’s. “But it’s really comfortable.”

  For a moment Maddie wondered if he was referring only to the beach. The movie star looked far more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Not, she reminded herself, that she’d ever seen him at home with Tonja and their children.

  “It’s true.” Avery leaned against Chase as she spoke. “We’ve been discussing letting go of the high-end finishes we originally envisioned and can’t really afford for a while. The plan now is still to go retro but make sure that it’s casual and family friendly. We’d include the soda fountain, a great new casual dining room, and break the lobby up into conversation areas, card and game tables, all of it overlooking the new pool and beach.”

  “Plus the men’s and women’s locker rooms,” Chase added. “And the rooftop deck. Which would leave us with . . .”

  “. . . a fully functioning beach club,” Maddie finished. She looked back at the hotel trying to envision it as it once was and might be again.

  “But what about the cottages?” Nikki asked. “What would we do with them?”

  Ray sat up, his rolled sleeves revealing lightly muscled forearms. He was the only one of them not sweating. “I think we should finish the roof and exteriors including new doors, windows, and patios. Then paint them the way we’d planned in those great midcentury colors—Flamingo Pink, Blue Mambo, Banana Leaf—and leave the interiors unfinished for now.”

  “It could work,” Avery said. “We’d create a viable local beach club. People could buy yearly memberships. And there could be activities and parties like the Handlemans had for their guests.”

  Despite the heat, Maddie’s arms goosebumped. “I love it. Especially the idea of re-creating the Sunshine Beach Club.”

  “We could finish the cottages later,” Chase said. “Or whoever bought it might want to.”

  It was Nikki’s turn to sit up. “Why not sell them as time-shares? People could pay for two weeks a year. Or a month. Or, I don’t know. There could be a sliding scale.” Her voice grew more animated.

  “And once enough people bought time in a one- or two-bedroom, it could be built out,” Jeff said.

  “For $150,000 bucks we could finish out a one-bedroom unit to their specifications,” Chase added. “Maybe charge $200,000 for the two-bedrooms depending on finishes. John Franklin will know what they might go for.”

  Troy moved among them, stepping carefully, shooting each person as they spoke. For the moment, at least, Kyra seemed content to be in the moment rather than try to capture it.

  “They could be fabulous,” Ray said. “The shells would stay the same, but the interiors could be customized.”

  The sun dialed it back a notch. As it began its end-of-day swan dive, the beach began to empty. The family who’d spotted the “dolpins” earlier began to gather up their sand toys and beach towels. The father hefted a cooler onto one shoulder while the mother packed up an oversized straw bag.

  “But who would they be marketed to?” Ni
kki asked. “There are lots of hotels on the beach already. And there are only ten units here.”

  “But they’re not beach clubs that you can belong to,” Maddie said, her eyes drawn again to the young family now heading back up the beach. As she watched, the children raced ahead of their parents. Midway, for no apparent reason, the little girl did a cartwheel, then turned to run back to retrieve a purple pail. On her way back she raced past her brother squealing with what sounded a lot like happiness. Just like John had told them the children used to back when he was lifeguarding.

  “I know exactly who would want to join the beach club and buy time-shares on this property.” Maddie felt the smile crease her face as certainty flooded through her. “Is it too late to ask the Franklins to come over and hear our idea?”

  “Oh!” Annelise came to a stop at their first sight of the bright yellow bulldozer. Renée stopped with her. “It’s so . . . big.”

  Renée couldn’t get her feet to move. The two of them stared at it dumbly. It was big. Big and yellow.

  “What is it?” John asked coming up behind them.

  “I wasn’t expecting . . . I didn’t realize . . .” Annelise’s voice trailed off, but Renée knew exactly what she meant. Agreeing to bulldoze the hotel and actually seeing the bulldozer that would flatten it were two very different things.

  Despite all the years of wishing for the hotel to come down and the property to be sold, she had never allowed herself to imagine it. Or think what it would be like to step onto this lot once it was reduced to sand and rubble.

  “I just wanted it gone but . . .” Annelise began.

  “I know.” Renée resisted the urge to lean against John, who’d moved up to stand between them. If it felt this awful now, how would it feel when the land sold and someone else’s home or condo building went up on it?

  “Ladies?” John crooked his arms and they each slipped an arm through one. Renée’s heart thudded dully in her chest as they walked carefully through the overgrown grass and rubble, supporting each other as they traversed the uneven ground.

  “Neh Nay!” Dustin left his mother’s side and came running to her as she and John and Annelise reached the others. She was surprised to see Dustin’s father follow him. He shook John’s hand firmly and offered what seemed to be a sincere greeting while Dustin threw his arms around Renée’s thighs, which was as high as he could currently reach. She hugged him back, noticing as she straightened that Annelise stood alone near what had been the deep end of the swimming pool where the diving board had once been. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead. No doubt staring into the past.

  “You used to love to scare the guests with your underwater disappearing act.”

  Annelise smiled sadly. “I never did it again after that day.”

  “I know.” Renée put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. It had been a day of “lasts.” The dividing line between their “before” and their “after.” The night their father had died and Ilse had . . . The day both their parents died, she corrected herself.

  She turned her gaze to the low wall where much of the group sat. But what she saw was herself, pretending the wall was a tightrope when she was five or six. Sitting with her father and Pop Pop eating ice cream sandwiches. As a teenager it had provided an uninterrupted view of the lifeguard stand. She had spent so much time trying to forget the bad things, that she’d forgotten the good things, too. She had, as the old expression went, thrown the baby out with the bathwater.

  Avery came forward to greet them, her eyes bright with anxiety reminding Renée that she and Annelise weren’t the only ones who would be affected by the hotel’s fate. There were hugs and waves and friendly nods. Somewhere along the way these nice young people who had come to own Bella Flora had become far more than that. They were shown to webbed beach chairs like the one Jeff Hardin sat on.

  Sunset was not far off and they sat in the gathering dusk listening to the cicadas tuning up, the occasional caw from a circling gull, the rustle of the palms. The soundtrack that she and Annelise had grown up with. The past washed gently over her like a warm Gulf swell on a summer day, and she realized with regret that if they sold the property she’d never tame these grounds, never divide up the hibiscus bush, never share this place with her children and grandchildren. They’d let it molder all these years. If they tore it down and sold off the land, she’d most likely never set foot here again.

  Avery stepped up in front of them. Maddie joined her. “Thank you for coming. We all really appreciate it.”

  Beside her Annelise drew a deep breath. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap. “I don’t see any display boards or artwork. Will we have anything that will help us reach a decision?”

  “No,” Avery said. “As it turns out, our idea is a lot less about finishes and construction or even timetables and budgets than we originally thought.”

  “And a lot more about the Sunshine Hotel and Beach Club and what it’s meant to be,” Maddie added.

  “What does that mean?” Annelise asked.

  Shadows lengthened as Avery and Maddie described what they had in mind, with occasional clarifications or additions from the others. While Jeff Hardin and Steve Singer looked on approvingly, Troy Matthews and Kyra Singer shot video. Daniel Deranian sat with his son on his lap and seemed, at least to Renée, in no hurry to get back to the world he normally inhabited.

  “So you’re saying you want to not just renovate, but re-create the Sunshine Beach Club?” Renée asked when they’d finished. It was the last thing she’d been expecting when they arrived. From the look on Annelise’s face she, too, had been taken by surprise.

  “Yes,” Maddie said eagerly. “With the same kind of activities and personal treatment families used to get in your grandparents’ day.”

  “But who on earth would run it?” Annelise asked.

  “You could sell the club,” Nikki suggested. “Or hold on to it and hire a management company.”

  The shadows lengthened. Each answer seemed to beget more questions.

  “I don’t see it,” Annelise finally said. “Those days are over. People have their own pools now. And anyone can go to the beach. Why would they come here to do those things?”

  “I think families would enjoy it,” Daniel Deranian said.

  “You’d bring your family, then?” Troy asked archly. Kyra gave him a death stare.

  “Part of my family,” Daniel said.

  “I can’t help feeling that ‘retro’ is just a new word for old-fashioned.” Annelise remained unconvinced. But Renée found herself picturing Nana, remembering the personal connection she’d forged with all their guests. She had had only one child, but in a time when entire Jewish families had been exterminated, she had created an extended family right here on Sunshine Beach.

  “No,” Ray insisted. “Retro is all the rage. And the structures here are a perfect example of midcentury modern.”

  “The architecture is fabulous and with Renée’s help the grounds will be, too. But it’s not just the structures,” Maddie said. “Young families are yearning for those old kinds of connections, a way to anchor their children to the family in this fast-paced world.”

  Annelise sat very still. Renée could feel her resistance. But a sense of rightness, of a calm certainty she hadn’t felt in decades, settled over her. Renée turned to her sister. “They’re right,” she said. “The Sunshine Hotel and Beach Club was never about the buildings.” She looked at the hull of a pool and the torn-up concrete, at the low-slung building that sagged and gaped but had been the scene of so many celebrations. “It was always about the people. The families. Including ours.”

  She reached for her sister’s birdlike hand and her husband’s stronger one. “We’ve both been hiding from our memories in different ways. But I don’t want to tear it down and forget it anymore. I want to remember and share those memories. And maybe give new memories to t
he guests who come here.” She met her sister’s eye. “Think what an honor it would be to Nana and Pop Pop. And to our parents.”

  “But no one would take the time to do the things Nana did. Or even know how to make it feel like it used to.”

  Renée saw the tears in her sister’s eyes and felt them gather in her own. But this was a chance to turn the pain and uncertainty they’d lived with for so long into something good. She was casting about for an answer when Madeline Singer spoke.

  “But we do know how,” Maddie said as the sun oozed into the water leaving a red-streaked sky behind. “Because your Nana left very explicit notes and instructions. And a long list of guests whose children and grandchildren already have wonderful memories of the Sunshine Hotel and Beach Club that they might want to build on.”

  Annelise nodded and smiled. She gently squeezed Renée’s hand in agreement.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  The grand reopening of the Sunshine Beach Club took place on a postcard-perfect October day under blue skies and taffy-pulled clouds. Guests mingled on the new white concrete pool deck enjoying the salt-tinged breeze off the Gulf and temperatures that hovered in the midseventies. Hawaiian-shirted bartenders mixed tropical drinks for the adults and nonalcoholic versions for the children all topped off with brightly colored paper umbrellas. Similarly clad waiters passed family-friendly hors d’oeuvres right out of the fifties: mini burgers, hot dogs, and pizzas, along with deviled eggs and celery stuffed with cream cheese and Cheez Whiz. There was not a pâté or a foie gras in sight.

  Adults chattered in ever-moving and morphing groups as children cannonballed into the pool under the watchful eye of a lifeguard who sat atop the retro lifeguard stand Ray had insisted on ordering. Others raced onto the beach and back again whooping with delight.

  A sizable crowd enjoyed the proceedings and the sweeping beach and bay views from the rooftop deck with its modular cushioned seating and movable wheeled planters. Small hands and noses pressed up against the deck’s Plexiglas sides enjoying the same view of the pool and beach as their parents and taller siblings did. On a makeshift stage set up in front of the cabbage palms, William Hightower and his band broke into their current hit “Free Fall.” A largely female audience crowded around them. Bitsy Baynard stood at the very front swaying to the music and singing along, number one fan and cheerleader.