by Wendy Wax
“It was Pamela who drew up the plans for the pool house and talked us into building it,” Max said. “It was far bigger than it needed to be, with a lot of amenities you don’t usually see in a pool house.” He shrugged. “But we had the property and it came in handy later when we were looking for rental income. It was really ahead of its time.”
Kyra lowered the video camera.
The comment snagged Avery’s attention and caused her to turn her back on the refrigerator, though she didn’t close the door on her temporary personal air conditioner. “What did you say?” she asked Max, hoping she hadn’t heard correctly.
“We built the pool house in ’56, or ’57 maybe. I remember Millie was pregnant with Aaron at the time and the act was doing great. Pamela made sure it looked like it went with the rest of the house, but it was pretty lavish. We first started renting it out to some of the bigger-name comedians who wanted more privacy and space than they could get at one of the big hotels. Later, in the mid-sixties, when Miami Beach took a nosedive, we were able to rent it out pretty steadily. Whatever else we gave up, we made sure to keep it up-to-date and in tiptop shape. It turned out to be a godsend.”
Avery closed the refrigerator and walked to the table.
“What kind of shape is the pool house in now?” Kyra asked, which was exactly what Avery was wondering. They’d all heard Troy and Anthony complain about how uncomfortable it was, how much work it needed. They’d been so preoccupied with the main house and grounds that no one had bothered to so much as set foot inside it.
“Well, we did have it completely renovated before Millie got sick. So that we could keep the revenue stream coming. We never had any problem renting it out, that’s for sure. It was so much nicer than anything else around.”
A heavy silence fell. Max looked at his photos. The women looked at one another.
“I’m thinking we should go check it out,” Avery said, trying to process what Max had said.
Kyra removed Dustin’s bib and wiped off his mouth. She checked her video camera for battery.
“Max,” Maddie said, pulling Dustin out of his high chair. “Will you take us out there and give us a tour?”
“Sure.” As always, Max seemed pleased to be the center of attention. He moved slowly and all of them did their best to hang back so that he could lead the way. Part of Avery wanted to charge ahead to see for herself what she might have missed.
Given the snail’s pace, it took them a while to get there. When they finally stepped inside the pool house, they were enveloped in marvelously cool air and more than a few unpleasant surprises.
“They have air-conditioning!” Kyra walked over to the wall and reached a hand toward the digital thermostat. It was set at seventy-two degrees.
“But where’s the condenser?” Avery asked, still not wanting to believe she’d been so obtuse. “I haven’t heard it or seen it. I may not have been inside, but I’ve walked the property more than once.” They were all staring dumbly at the digital readout.
“It’s directly behind the pool house and hidden inside a privet hedge. So that it wouldn’t create noise or be an eyesore from the main house,” Max said.
They turned and sighed as one at the sight of a stainless-steel kitchen with granite countertops.
“Is that a double oven?” Maddie asked.
“Yep,” Deirdre said. “And a gas cooktop.”
They looked around them in shock. A set of French doors led to a private back garden screened by a U-shaped hedge of hibiscus. A second set opened to another small hidden garden off a beautifully decorated master suite.
“There are three bedrooms!” Avery could hardly absorb it. Troy and Anthony had each claimed a room. The third had been turned into an editing suite with multiple monitors and full-scale audio that had Kyra salivating.
“And two bathrooms,” Maddie noted.
They barely breathed as they walked through the space, while Deirdre cataloged the high-end finishes and amenities. Perhaps like Avery they were simply trying not to hyperventilate as they realized just how well the camera crew had been living.
“Sweet Mother of God,” Avery said. “We have been sharing beds, sweating in an un-air-conditioned space, and living with the constant threat of housewide blackouts while—”
“—they have a big-screen TV and some kind of satellite dish!” Kyra added this with a tone of sick fascination. “And a state-of-the-art editing suite.”
Max looked around him, taking in their faces, understanding dawning. “I assumed you gave them the best accommodations because they were with the network.” He cleared his throat. “I was kind of looking forward to maybe moving out here after the party. Just to get away from the mess and noise.”
There were footsteps out on the pool deck and the bark of male laughter. A moment later the front door of the pool house opened and Troy and Anthony walked in, their arms laden with grocery bags.
To put in their stainless-steel refrigerator. And cook in one of their double ovens.
Their laughter died as the twosome spotted their unexpected guests. Troy studied their faces. Anthony shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“We thought we might cook you all a meal in return for…everything.” Troy held up the grocery bags in his arms as if this was the sole reason for everything they might have bought. “I make a pretty decent arroz con pollo. That’s chicken and yellow—”
“We don’t care what you know how to cook,” Kyra said angrily. “You…you are…you should…” She seemed to be having trouble finding the right word, but she had no problem raising her camera to her shoulder and aiming it at the network crew.
Avery hoped she was getting a close-up of their guilty faces.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” Maddie finished, holding Dustin tight against her.
“You intentionally misled us,” Nikki added, stating what had become insultingly obvious. “You knew the kind of conditions we’ve been living in…” She looked at Max. “Sorry. And you made us believe that you were even worse off.” She shook her head.
“Every time I fed you, you acted as if you were starving out here.” Maddie also shook her head in disbelief.
“We were. We do…appreciate it,” Anthony amended hastily. The round cheeks above his beard flushed red with embarrassment. “Troy’s really not that good a cook.”
“You’ve been sitting out here laughing at us,” Nikki said. “That sucks.”
“We haven’t been laughing,” Anthony said. “Well, not exactly. We just—”
“Couldn’t stay off property. Our job requires us to be here,” Troy cut in. “And as I recall, you’re the ones who put us out here.” His smile was taunting. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it?”
“Irony is extremely unattractive when it’s being aimed right at you,” Deirdre said. “But I must say the layout and design of this space is first rate. I’d definitely like to meet Pamela Gentry.”
Max lowered himself into a club chair set into a cozy reading nook. “So. What happens now?” he asked.
Troy ended the standoff by walking past the others to put the groceries on the kitchen counter. Kyra’s camera followed and stayed on him as he began to put the groceries away.
“So, our family and friends will be arriving in two days,” Avery said. “You two will double up so that they can stay out here. After they leave, Max will move in. I assume he’ll be given the master suite since this is his house.”
“Of course,” Anthony said. Troy nodded, but less happily.
“We’ll discuss what happens after that with Lisa Hogan.” Avery turned and saw Kyra moving in for a close-up. “As far as I’m concerned, the network can either put you up nearby or pay Max rent for your accommodations.”
“Or maybe we should flip a coin to see who gets to stay out here,” Nikki said. “Or we could take turns rotating in and out. They’ve already been out here for six weeks.”
“We can definitely turn this into a communal kitchen. I can’t believ
e I’ve been cooking in an electric skillet when this place existed all along.” Maddie snorted in irritation; a rare thing indeed. “If you’d mentioned this kitchen, we could have all been eating a little better.”
“Well, everybody’s been keeping things to themselves,” Troy said with a jut of his jaw. “And that includes the comings and goings of a major celebrity.” He looked right into Kyra’s camera lens when he said this. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “That’s not really something that a network filming a reality-television show can afford to ignore. In fact, a network might be upset to discover that they’re missing out on a huge ratings score because its talent are protecting their privacy. Which they technically gave up when they signed a contract with the network.”
Kyra’s lips pressed into a thin line. She lowered the camera from her shoulder then glared at the cameraman for a few long moments before turning to her mother and taking the baby out of her arms.
Maddie turned to Max and offered him a hand up. The old man rose slowly then slipped his arm through Maddie’s elbow. Nicole came up on his other side.
“I suggest you enjoy your last nights alone,” Avery said before turning to join the others. “That ship has sailed.”
Chapter Nineteen
Maddie and the others spent the last week before the premiere party in a state of perpetual motion. Anyone who stood still for more than a few seconds was commandeered by Avery or Deirdre for some task then filmed doing it by Troy and/or Kyra, their audio recorded by the small but burly soundman. There was cleaning and straightening and as much strategic “concealment” as the limited closet space allowed.
“Is there really a reason to plump pillows when there’s barely a single wall or ceiling intact?” Avery asked Deirdre, who was in the process of frenetic staging. “Who’s going to look at your design boards and paint chips when they’re staring at exposed ductwork and wiring while standing on gouged tiles and uneven flooring?” She crossed her arms and set her jaw. Her mother did the same.
“They’ll love being in on the process,” Deirdre insisted for what might have been the hundredth time, though Maddie still wasn’t sure whether she was trying to convince them or herself. “I’m sure Michelangelo showed the pope his Sistine Chapel once or twice before it was completed. When we invite our guests back to see our finished masterpiece, they’ll feel doubly invested in the project and the show.”
No one bothered to argue with this. In fact, by the time Lisa Hogan and her entourage swept in the day before the premiere party, they were all too tired to argue and almost too tired to move. The network head was both younger and more attractive than she’d looked in photographs, with a fall of dark hair and mossy-green eyes that seemed to assess everything in their path with all the warmth of an ice cube. Her comments and decisions shot from her mouth at warp speed, rapid and deadly.
From what Maddie could tell, the woman loved Max, thought the house had potential, and had not yet fully committed to the series or them. To the question of her crew living on-site she said simply, “They’re here twenty-four/seven. Where they sleep is up to you.”
Kyra attempted to avoid her, but Hogan took a look at Dustin then walked right up to Kyra and said into her camera lens, “There will be no secrets or personal agendas.” Then she narrowed her laser beams at Avery. “And no budget overruns.” As if the budget were more than ample and anything they’d spend above it, frivolous.
To Deirdre and Nicole she said, “Let’s sit down with the guest list. I’ll want to meet your potential sponsors.” As to the running of the party she said, “We’ll show Max and Millie performance video on all screens inside and outside the house during cocktails. Then all of you will be introduced via video segments and Max will introduce the pilot, which we’ll cut to live at precisely eight P.M.” She scanned their faces, though it was clear that she did not anticipate questions or objections. “We’ll have a postmortem afterward. I leave first thing the following morning.”
With that, she and her people decamped to the Ritz-Carlton, an expense the network apparently deemed more critical than a workable budget for Do Over.
Chase Hardin, his father, and his teenage sons arrived later in the afternoon. Avery took Chase and Jeff on a tour of The Millicent, which included everything from the roof to the new breaker box, while Maddie got Josh and Jason settled in the pool-house bedroom they’d be sharing with Andrew.
Nicole had offered to share her room with Kyra and Dustin so that Maddie and Steve could have a room to themselves. Maddie appreciated the gesture, but couldn’t help wondering what sort of reunion this would be given how awkward and infrequent her conversations with her husband had become.
As she made dinner in the pool-house kitchen, enjoying both the convenience and the air-conditioning, she peered out windows and stilled at every new sound even though Steve and Andrew weren’t due until later in the evening. It seemed incomprehensible that she was this anxious about what she’d say to the man to whom she’d been married for a quarter of a century, but that didn’t make the churning in her stomach any less real.
“I’ve never seen you so squirmy,” Nicole said as they sat down to eat at the dining room table, which Deirdre had earmarked for refinishing as soon as the party was over. The windows had all been thrown open without any discernible effect.
“I thought the air-conditioning was going to be up and running,” Kyra said.
“Hendricks promised first thing tomorrow morning so that there’ll be time to cool down the house for the party,” Nicole said. “You should have seen his face when Deirdre escorted him past the sign next to the front steps and showed him the line on the handout and next to the thermostats that read, ‘If you’re cool and comfortable, thank John Hendricks of Hendricks Heat and Air.’”
“I guess the ‘if you’re not cool and comfortable’ part was heavily implied,” Chase observed.
“I have fans imprinted with that to hand out just in case,” Deirdre said. “I left them in a box right next to the thermostat where John would be sure to see them.” She laid a napkin in her lap.
“Sometimes subtle just doesn’t cut it,” Jeff Hardin agreed.
Maddie and Deirdre exchanged looks. That had been the theme of today’s hurried mothering tutorial.
“Deirdre and I were talking about that today,” Maddie said with a smile of encouragement aimed at the designer.
“That’s as true in comedy as it is in real life,” Max said. He seemed to be enjoying the stepped-up activity and the additional people in the house. “Sometimes you need that pratfall. Or a well-placed banana peel.”
Maddie passed the antipasto salad she’d made in one direction and the platter of grilled salmon, which she’d marinated in a special mix of ingredients that Mario had suggested, in the other. A loaf of crusty Italian bread followed. With the addition of the Hardins to the table, they were packed tight, but the conversation was lively and the food disappeared quickly. All the way through the meal Maddie kept one ear cocked and an eye out the window to the drive.
They were sitting over their coffee and dessert when a car drove up.
“I bet that’s Dad and Andrew.” Kyra stood immediately. “Did you hear that, Dustin?” she cooed. “Your grandpa and your uncle are here.” For once, she didn’t race Troy to reach her camera, but lifted the baby out of his high chair and settled him on her hip.
Maddie felt Deirdre’s gaze on her and realized she was still seated. “Are the outside lights on?” she asked as she stood, unable to remember if she’d put them on earlier. Pushing aside a jumble of emotions, Maddie followed Kyra through the kitchen and out the door. Steve and Andrew appeared rumpled from the long drive, but they were here. She hurried out to meet them, reminding herself that Steve had come a long way since last year at this time. He and Andrew had driven all day to get there.
But only because you made him. No, it was time to focus on the positives and not pick apart the things that Steve had and hadn’t done or said. But even as she hugged the
m both and brought them inside to join the others and meet Max, she sensed Steve holding himself back. Oh, he smiled and said all the right things, but there was something beneath the words and in his eyes that she couldn’t quite make out. As if he were going through the motions because she’d commanded it, but wasn’t going to give her an ounce more than he had to. As she fetched the plates she’d set aside for them, she had an uncomfortable feeling that dwelling only on the positive during this most important of weekends might prove easier said than done.
“I feel absolutely ridiculous in this outfit,” Avery complained the next afternoon as they dressed for the premiere party. “I feel like I’m wearing a costume. I look like a child who raided her mother’s closet.”
“You used to love to do that when you were little,” Deirdre said with a note of nostalgia that set Avery’s teeth on edge. “I remember one time when you—”
Avery turned from the mirror to confront Deirdre. “I am not interested in walking down your memory lane. Which is, after all, incredibly short.” She sighed at the nasty tone and turned back to consider her image in the still-steamy bathroom-door mirror. At the moment it wasn’t Deirdre she was angry with, but herself. “Almost as short as me.”
The cocktail dress was low cut and halter-necked and the aquamarine satin bodice clung to her, well, everywhere. A spray of sequins had been sewn into the deep V of the neck and splashed around the hem of the chiffon skirt, which swirled around her knees. A pair of dyed-to-match high-heel sandals studded with rhinestones completed the ensemble that had belonged to Millie Golden.
She remained silent as Nicole slicked her hair into a French twist and affixed large drop earrings to her lobes.
“You look like a fifties movie star. From a distance you could even pass for Marilyn,” Deirdre said. Her tone made it clear she was offering the ultimate compliment. She held up a deep red hibiscus blossom. “What do you think of this behind her ear?” she asked Nikki. “It’s almost the same shade as her lipstick.”
