by Wendy Wax
Maddie paused, kind of amazed at all the years of stored-up experience pouring out of her. But Deirdre’s look was that of rapt attention. Could she really not know this?
“Your goal is to keep the lines of communication open,” Maddie continued. “Over time they come to understand that the people they love aren’t going to leave them just because they’re not behaving perfectly. If they’re secure enough in your love, they’ll feel free to treat you like shit. Which is something they can’t do with the rest of the world.”
“She’s already treating me like shit,” Deirdre pointed out. “And you’re telling me I’m aiming for more of that?” Deirdre didn’t look at all happy about this revelation.
“No, that’s not what I meant. But frankly, even when you’ve been there the whole time and done your best to understand, there’s only so much you can do. You can’t live their lives for them. And you can’t force them to see things the way you do.” Maddie realized she was speaking to herself as much as to Deirdre.
“So what do you think I should do next?” Deirdre asked.
“You hang in there. You don’t cut and run. No matter what. Avery has to come to believe that you’re in it for the long haul.”
“That’s it?” Deirdre asked. She cocked her head in question. “Are you sure?”
“Well, it’s not rocket science or brain surgery, though it sometimes feels like it,” Maddie said.
“But what can I give her? I want to do something nice for her.” Deirdre sighed. “Something a little larger than a menu item.”
Maddie looked at Deirdre Morgan. Beneath the perfectly wrapped package was the same morass of uncertainty mothers had felt from the beginning of time. What was too much? What was not enough? Deirdre was not exactly an open book, but her desire to make a good impression on her daughter seemed sincere. “I don’t know,” Maddie admitted. “I’m kind of confused at the moment myself.”
She looked out the kitchen window in an effort to gather her thoughts and saw Kyra pushing the stroller back down the sidewalk toward the house. She had her cell phone up to her ear and was speaking earnestly to someone. Maddie sincerely hoped that someone was not Daniel Deranian.
Madeline turned back to Deirdre. “If Avery and Chase need a room and they won’t take yours, maybe the next time he’s down here, you should get them one of their own.”
“Rise and shine!”
“Oh, no,” Avery groaned. “Not again. What is it with you and morning?”
“You said you wanted to talk to everyone before work started. And I’ve got some things I’d like to bring up too.”
Avery mumbled and covered her eyes. She attempted to bury her head in the pillow, but Deirdre wrested it away.
“Maddie’s already got coffee on. Be grateful we’re only going up on the deck. She wanted to have this meeting out on the beach. At sunrise.”
With a groan Avery sat up, but it took her a while to commit to opening her eyes. When she did she saw that Deirdre was fully dressed in something simple yet sophisticated. Her face was flawlessly made up.
Fifteen minutes later they were on the deck facing east, all present and accounted for. Kyra nursed Dustin and sipped a glass of orange juice that Maddie had carried up for her. The rest of them held their stimulant of choice. Most of them were awake.
They sat for a few minutes in the morning quiet, eyes on the sky that was just beginning to lighten. When she felt sufficiently awake to speak, Avery licked the last bits of glazed sugar off her fingers and called the meeting, such as it was, to order.
“Hendricks Heat and Air has had to push back installation a little bit, which gives Ted a little longer to get the electrical completed,” she said. “They’re going to start cutting vents and running ductwork as soon as possible, though. Which means they’re going to have to open the ceiling of Max’s closets. I wondered if you might be willing to help him clear them out, Maddie?”
“Sure. I’d be glad to.”
“I can help too,” Nicole offered.
“Good.” Avery checked the item off her list. “Let’s get that done as soon as possible so that we’re ready the minute Hendricks has a crew free.” She looked up from her notes. “How are we coming with a window company?”
“I’ve been playing phone tag with two of the companies on the list you gave me,” Nicole said. “And I know Deirdre’s been following up on the glass block.”
“Good.” Avery sipped her coffee and felt the bonds of sleep starting to loosen. “Once the air-conditioning people are out, we can start removing doors and hardware for refinishing. When the replacement panes I ordered come in, we’ll need someone to handle the reglazing.” She didn’t look directly at Maddie when she said this, but Maddie groaned nonetheless.
“I was doing that in my sleep for months after we finished Bella Flora,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Avery replied. “If someone else with the same kind of patience and attention to detail would like to volunteer, I’m good with that.”
Avery looked around the group. No one met her eye.
“Right.” Maddie took a sip of coffee and sighed.
“After that, the plumber will be coming in.” Avery hesitated.
Nicole’s head snapped up. “Please tell me we’re not going to be down to one bathroom again.”
“Just for a little while,” Avery said.
“Can you define ‘a little while’?” Deirdre asked.
“Not really.” Avery winced. She was not looking forward to five women in one bathroom again either, but there was no way around it. Avery speared Maddie with what she hoped was a stern look. “But there should be no feeding of the plumber under any circumstances. We don’t want to treat any of our workmen so well that they start dragging out the job.”
“Aye, aye.” Maddie mock-saluted, but Avery knew that at the first pitiful look or rumble of a stomach, her promise would evaporate. No matter how big the beer belly, the woman couldn’t help mothering everyone placed in her path.
Dustin finished nursing and sat with a big smile on his face. Kyra hefted the baby up onto one diaper-draped shoulder. There was a loud belch.
“Am I imagining it or did he do that on cue?” Nicole asked.
“I think Max has been working on it with him,” Kyra said. “He wants to incorporate him into his act.”
They all shared a smile. “Anything to report, Kyra?” Avery asked.
With the burp out of the way and Dustin still propped against her shoulder, Kyra said, “I’ve posted a series of ‘before’ shots to YouTube and we’re getting a lot of views and favorable feedback.”
“And your commentary?” Avery asked, remembering Kyra’s initial scathing posts from Pass-a-Grille.
“I’m keeping it to a minimum right now. Just how excited we are to be starting a new project. Look how cool the house is, look how much it needs, and so on. With maybe a couple of not-so-flattering shots of the Lifetime crew.” She mumbled the last before continuing.
“The big thing is building an audience for the Do Over pilot on July first. We’ve got lots of Internet buzz going and we need to keep stoking it. We’ve got a Facebook page now and we’re already up to one thousand ‘friends.’ I may want you all to come on and post occasionally, you know, make little ‘guest appearances.’” Kyra turned Dustin so that he could sit in her lap. A moment later a rubber teething ring was in his mouth.
“Does Facebook have autocorrect?” Maddie asked, her brow knitting in concern.
“No,” Kyra said. “So you’re safe, Mom. We definitely don’t want you sending any potentially scandalous recipes out into cyberspace. I thought we should get Max involved too. I’ve also signed up for a Twitter account.”
“Could we use Facebook and Twitter to put out a call for local gardeners?” Maddie asked. “Maybe we could host a garden-work day or two.”
“Those are both great ideas,” Deirdre said.
As much as she hated agreeing with Deirdre, Avery nodded. “Let’s do it,” s
he said.
Avery was ready to end the meeting when Deirdre raised her hand.
“What is it, Deirdre?”
“I’ve got drawings of the kitchen.” Deirdre passed around a board with sketches and finishes, which she explained in enthusiastic detail.
When everyone finished oohing and aahing, she said, “I also have an idea for the downstairs floors.”
Avery closed her eyes, not from a desire for sleep but out of irritation.
“The original Moroccan tiles are heavily damaged. I checked with Mario Dante and a couple of local suppliers and we’re never going to be able to repair them or find replacement tiles that’ll match.” She waited for this to sink in before continuing. “I’d like to sand, stain, and seal the entire floor,” she said, pulling an enlarged photo and a sample tile from beneath her chair and passing them to Avery. “This is what it would look like in a low gloss.”
The tile was a dark, bitter Turkish coffee color. The photo showed a large gleaming expanse of it.
“That looks great,” Maddie said. “It’ll really unify the space.”
Everyone but Avery seemed to be smiling. “What about the cost?” she asked.
“I don’t have exact numbers, but it’ll be a fraction of what it would cost to rip up that floor and replace it since it’s all over the downstairs except Max’s bedroom and bath,” Deirdre said.
“Maybe, but it’s not exactly a simple process,” Avery pointed out.
“True,” Deirdre said. “It’s not too dissimilar from refinishing the wood floors.”
“Which we’ve already got in the work schedule,” Avery said. She was not looking to max out their nonexistent budget. “That wood parquet in the bedrooms is going to be especially time-consuming and labor-intensive. That stuff is really thick.”
There was a collective groan. This was the disadvantage of having done a house already. There’d been that horrible learning curve on Bella Flora, but there’d also been the protection of ignorance. They’d had no real idea how onerous many of the tasks would be until they’d done them.
“I’m not dying to do any of this,” Nicole said. “But I have to say the color and finish are fabulous.”
“Thanks.” Deirdre smiled, clearly pleased. “And I’ve got plans for that moth-eaten area rug in the living room and—”
“We can’t just keep adding expense,” Avery said, cutting her off.
“I’m well aware of that. I’ve been out calling on potential sponsors. I think I understand that better than most. But I know you want to do this house justice. And that means the design element is critical.”
Avery wanted to argue with her; she hated that Deirdre was right. Absolutely hated that Deirdre did, in fact, know her well enough to know that she’d already won this argument.
Avery studied the photos and the design elements Deirdre was proposing, which included reupholstering the banquette, refinishing the chrome base, and replacing the glass tabletop. Deirdre’s designs were more than great; they would bring The Millicent up-to-date without compromising her or the architect’s talent and intent. But she couldn’t bring herself to say so.
“You can’t just go off doing whatever you feel like whenever you feel like it. Not that you haven’t done that before.” Was that a whine in her voice?
Avery squirmed in the silence that followed. She felt like a perverse child. Or the mean girl in the high school lunchroom who’d gone too far.
“Well, if you don’t like my design ideas—despite the fact that this is what I do for a living—I’m sure you’ll hate my next idea even more,” Deirdre said.
Avery reached for the donut box, which was, alas, empty. There were stirrings down in the pool house. And she thought she heard water running beneath them in Max’s room. “Then maybe you should save it for another time.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t do that,” Deirdre replied.
Avery would need more coffee to argue effectively. Or at least another donut or two. “Fine,” she said. “What is it?”
“You asked Nicole and me to work on signing sponsors.”
“Yes, I know. And we all really appreciate that you’re doing that,” Avery said. “Now—”
“I’ve come up with a means of approaching companies in a more organized way.”
Traffic was starting to pick up on Meridian. Avery heard a bus shuddering to a stop over on Washington. She sighed. “Just tell us what it is already so we can move on.”
“I want to invite a handpicked list of potential sponsors to come watch the pilot episode of Do Over with us. Actually I’d like to invite the movers and shakers in the design and preservation community along with Realtors who specialize in this area as well as the media. It would be a sort of premiere party.”
“You want to give a party?” Avery asked.
“I want us all to give a party,” Deirdre said with a flash of smile. Her teeth looked especially white against the perfect red of her lipstick. Her blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. At this particular moment, anyway, there was no doubting her sincerity. “And you don’t need to worry about the budget, because I’m planning to get the network to pick up most of the tab.”
“And where would we have this party?” Avery asked, although she was afraid she knew.
“Here, of course,” Deirdre replied. “At The Millicent.”
“Oh, no,” Avery said. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to stop work to get ready for a party. That’s completely out of the question.”
“But that’s the beauty of it,” Deirdre said. “You don’t have to. This will be the ‘before’ party. We want things torn apart and gritty. Nobody’s been in this house since just after World War Two. People will be dying to get an invitation. I’ve already started a list and I’ve put a call in to Chase and Jeff Hardin so that the whole cast can be here.” She smiled happily. “I’ve even got my publicist working on it.” Only Deirdre Morgan could be all out of money and still find a way to keep a publicist on retainer.
Maddie looked at Deirdre. “The last time your publicist got involved, the paparazzi descended on Pass-a-Grille.” She nodded toward Kyra and the baby. “I’m counting on you to be careful,” Maddie said with a warning look. “And no mentioning Dustin’s father.”
Deirdre made a cross-my-heart motion, but Avery knew how little that really meant.
“You’re not going to accept that, are you?” Avery asked Maddie.
Madeline studied Deirdre. Avery could feel her weighing and deciding. “I am because if she uses my child or my grandchild again in any way, I’m going to make her regret it.” She narrowed her eyes at Deirdre, whom Maddie had intimidated thoroughly last summer much to everyone’s amazement. “And that’s a promise.”
After that, it was all over. Avery tried her best to stop Deirdre’s runaway train, but it seemed everyone had already jumped on board and pulled up the steps.
“We’re voting,” she huffed, unable to be at all graceful about this defeat. “All opposed?”
No one raised a hand except Avery, who raised two.
“All in favor of this ridiculous idea that I know we’re all going to regret?” Avery asked, though it was clear that Deirdre had already lobbied and rallied the troops.
Even Dustin, the traitor, pulled the teething ring out of his mouth long enough to raise his little hand and wave the saliva-covered circle in the air above his head.
Chapter Fifteen
Maddie and Nicole stood in front of Max’s bedroom door. They had a rolling garment rack, a stack of boxes, and two large garbage bags with them. After a heated argument with Troy, Kyra positioned herself behind them and to the left. The Lifetime crew stood to the right. As far as Maddie could tell, everything—both video cameras and the audio recorder—were rolling.
At their knock Max opened the door, his arms opened wide in welcome. “Come in! Come in!” A smile lit his face as he stepped back to allow them to enter—not an easy task given the number of people, the amount of supplies, and all the equip
ment. It felt a little like a school of sardines rushing into a can all at once.
Max moved to stand between the closet doors, which flanked the short hall to the bathroom. “This is my closet.” He motioned with his unlit cigar to the smaller closet on his left. “And this is…was…Millie’s.” He motioned to the other, which had wide double doors.
Maddie pushed the garment rack up against the wall and set the boxes down. “These are for anything you want to put back in the closet once the ceiling’s closed up,” she said. “We brought the garbage bags in case there’s anything you want to donate.”
Maddie could feel Kyra and Troy jockeying for position, but shoved the issue out of her mind. “Why don’t we start with Millie’s closet?” she asked, assuming it would be largely empty.
Max hesitated but then nodded. “Okay.”
Nicole pulled both doors open. The closet, which was cedar-lined and far deeper than anyone expected, was packed with brightly colored and sparkly clothing. Equally vivid shoes littered the floor. Boxes of all sizes had been crammed onto the full-width shelf and rose in an almost solid mass to the ceiling.
“Wow.” Maddie turned to Max, who’d stepped closer. “I thought…”
“I know.” Max moved closer then leaned into the closet, his hand grasping a knob. He drew in a breath of the musky perfume scent that wafted out the door. “When we started renting out rooms, Millie began to store things in here.”
His shoulders slumped and his voice dropped. For the first time since they’d arrived, he’d turned his back on both cameras. “I just couldn’t face going through Millie’s things. I couldn’t bear the idea of her closet being empty.” Max’s hand trembled on the doorknob.
“Are you okay with doing this now?” Maddie asked softly. “If you’re not, we can find somewhere else to store it all just as it is.” She had no idea where that might be, but she was not going to insist Max part with anything he’d rather keep.
