by Wendy Wax
“Love the dress,” Nikki said of the evening gown with the jeweled neckline. “Her hair’s longer and lighter and she’s wearing glasses, but the face is the same.”
There was another photo of her accepting the presidency of the Chicago chapter of the American Society of Interior Designers and several more of her heading up various committees and fund-raisers.
“She seems to have been quite a dynamo,” Nicole observed.
“Yes,” Max said. “She was always a force to be reckoned with. Pamela could be good company and she had a fair sense of humor.” He looked slightly uncomfortable. “But sometimes she just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Max’s gaze stayed on the screen.
“I’m going to save these photos to print out,” Kyra said, and then her fingers tapped quickly across the keys. “Here’s the design-firm contact info. I’m sending that to your phone, Deirdre.”
“Thanks. Can you tell if she’s still active in the business?”
More tapping. Then, “Oh.” Kyra looked up from the computer screen then turned to Max. “Here’s her…” She hesitated. “I just found her obituary.”
When Max made no comment, Kyra turned her attention back to the screen. “It looks like she died five years ago.”
“Before Millie,” Max said quietly. “Can you read what it says?”
“Yes, I’m going to save it to print too. As soon as I find a place to set up the printer.”
There was another keystroke and then Kyra read, “‘Pamela Gentry Madsen died yesterday at her home at the age of eighty. She was a former president of the ASID’—then it names those committees and things she chaired. ‘Her firm, which carried her name, did many notable commercial and residential interiors in and around the Chicago area. She was especially known for her modern interiors, for mentoring promising artists and artisans, and for her affinity for the Art Deco style.’” Kyra skimmed further. “‘She is survived by her son, Ethan, who became the managing partner of Madsen Interiors several years ago, and two grandchildren.’”
They all sat, their eyes on Max.
“Hmm,” he said. “Gone all these years already. It never occurred to me.” He stood slowly, holding on to the table until his legs steadied beneath him, in much the same way that Dustin clung to chair backs. He looked every one of his ninety years as he excused himself and began to move slowly toward his bedroom.
“So that’s it, then,” Avery said after the bedroom door had closed behind him. “Do you think you can find another chandelier locally?”
“Possibly,” Deirdre said, still staring at Kyra’s computer screen. “But the firm seems to be still in business. I don’t see any reason not to call and try to speak to her son to see if he knows this artist or his work.”
“Seriously?” Nicole asked. She’d been impressed with Deirdre’s work, but didn’t understand the woman’s single-mindedness over this one element.
“Why not?” Deirdre asked. “It’s just a phone call. I’ll see if I can reach him tomorrow.”
Avery woke the next morning in a foul mood, no doubt caused by being crammed on a roll-away between Deirdre and Nicole and then having to fight for bathroom time for a good twenty minutes. An entire day spent moving the furniture that was going into the POD that had been delivered and carting off the things that Max was donating and selling didn’t improve her mood one bit.
She was standing in the living room contemplating the battered tile floor and trying not to think of what it was going to take to refinish it, when she heard the sound of applause coming from the kitchen. Seconds later Avery stood in the archway between the dining room and kitchen. From there, she watched Deirdre place one hand on a section of the gleaming teak countertop and bend from the waist in an exaggerated bow. Max, Maddie, Nikki, and even Dustin applauded wildly while Troy, Anthony, and Kyra recorded Deirdre’s moment of triumph.
Avery’s jaw set as she took in the space. Like everything else Deirdre had created or orchestrated, the kitchen was superbly done. It was, in fact, deserving of applause.
The cabinetry was clean-lined and finished in a sand-colored enamel that both complemented and contrasted with the teak and would pop even more strongly once the tobacco-colored stain was applied to the floor.
The gently rolling tile backsplash in shades of blue conjured up the feel of ocean waves. The faucet and the cabinet and drawer pulls were polished chrome fashioned to look like a ship’s wheel. The appliances, donated by yet another sponsor that Deirdre had found, were state-of-the-art stainless steel encased in custom cabinetry. The pantry door had been made to look like it led to a cruise-ship stateroom.
When the new light fixtures went in and the banquette was complete, The Millicent kitchen would belong on the cover of Architectural Digest.
Avery’s gut clenched as she tried to understand how someone so self-absorbed could tune into a space so perfectly. While the rest of them struggled, Deirdre had skated through life letting nothing stand in her way. She’d gotten tired of being a wife and a mother, and so she’d picked up and left. When her career as a Hollywood designer hit a road bump, she’d hotfooted her way to Bella Flora and gotten her face in front of the cameras. Now here she was blowing everybody’s socks off on camera while she pretended that all she wanted was Avery’s love and forgiveness. Ha!
“What do you think?” Deirdre asked Avery, apparently needing still more adoration despite the fact that everyone else already thought she walked on frickin’ water.
Avery took a long look around the space as if she had not already done so. “It’s very nice,” she said grudgingly. “You did a nice job of capturing The Millicent’s vibe.”
Silence descended.
“That’s it?” Nicole asked. “It’s nice?”
“Really?” Kyra added as she lowered her camera.
“You don’t like it?” Max asked, looking around the space as if to see if he’d somehow missed something.
Maddie shot her a look of disappointment. Deirdre’s face remained impassive, but Avery had seen her eyes widen in surprise before darkening with hurt and she knew she’d scored a direct hit.
“What?” Avery snapped, uncomfortable with the disapproving silence.
“Don’t you think it’s time to grow up?” Madeline asked.
“It’s okay, Maddie,” Deirdre said, drawing Madeline’s attention. “Please. You don’t need to…”
“No, it’s not okay.” Madeline turned back to Avery, her normally soothing tone surprisingly…not. “You can’t hold a grudge against your mother forever. She screwed up. She left you and your father. She did the wrong thing.”
“You’ve got that right,” Avery said, confused. Madeline was generally the most accepting of all of them, but at the moment Avery didn’t see a lick of acceptance in her eyes.
“But she’s here now,” Maddie continued, gesturing toward Deirdre. “And she’s apologized and she’s trying to make it up to you. The woman has been taking lessons in motherhood, for God’s sake.”
Avery started in surprise. “What did you say?”
“Really, Maddie,” Deirdre said, her discomfort now apparent.
“Yep, she signed up for the first-ever ‘Madeline Singer How to Be a Mother’ class, though lately I’m not so sure I’m qualified to teach it. I’ve been coaching her, but she’s come up with some interesting attempts on her own: the Cheez Doodle extravaganza. The hotel room. The new clothes. Most importantly, ‘the not leaving when the going gets tough.’”
“I don’t believe this,” Avery said. “This is just more Deirdre Morgan smoke and mirrors. Believe me, she’s only here to build back her career. On our backs, I might add.”
“Okay,” Deirdre said. “I appreciate your defense, Maddie, but it seems pretty clear my daughter has no interest in giving me the benefit of the doubt.”
“Good grief,” Avery said. “I can’t believe this! Now Deirdre’s the injured party and I’m the big bad bully?” She wanted to get the hell out of the kitchen
, but she felt pinned down, under fire from the most unlikely of directions.
“That may be why she showed up at Bella Flora,” Maddie conceded. “But she has other options now and she’s still here.” She looked pointedly at Avery. “Because of you.”
“Right.” Avery heard the petulance in her voice, but she wasn’t about to concede the point. She wanted to leave but had no idea where she would go. And even if she went somewhere, she’d have to come back.
“It’s true,” Deirdre said. “I’d give anything to prove it. But I don’t know what else to do.”
“Seriously, Avery,” Madeline said. “It’s time to get over it. Your mother’s here and she’s trying. She’s not without flaws. But then who of us is?”
For a few long agonizing moments no one spoke. The whole thing felt somewhat surreal. And then Madeline’s face crumpled.
“I’m sorry,” she began. “I didn’t mean to jump on you. I just…Being a mother, a good mother, isn’t all that easy. I just couldn’t help thinking you could at least give her a chance.”
Avery opened her mouth, though she had no idea what to say. She did the mouth-open-like-a-fish-out-of-water-and-gasping-for-air thing, then managed to close it. She didn’t know what had loosened Maddie’s normal reticence, but it was clear that the floodgates were now open and she seemed unable, or unwilling, to censor what came out of her mouth.
“God, I’m sorry I started all of this,” Madeline said in yet another rush. “But since I have, I might as well add that I wish you would stop hiding yourself in those baggy clothes.”
She paused while everyone’s mouths gaped open, but that pause was brief.
“I mean everybody knows you’ve got a body under there,” Maddie concluded. “You’re doing yourself a disservice.”
Avery’s vision blurred with tears as she absorbed this attack from the last place she’d ever expected one. She might have cried right there except for the horrified look spreading over Maddie’s face. And the unexpected movement she caught out of the corner of her eye, movement that turned out to be Troy moving in for a closer shot.
Now even Maddie fell silent as everyone looked at one another and then at the camera.
Crap! Avery’s mouth opened again in horror as she realized that she had set into motion the very thing she’d reassured Kyra they could avoid. She’d allowed her hurt and anger to get the better of her, and as a result they’d handed the Lifetime crew exactly what they’d been waiting for: a great big boatload of backbiting and discord.
Reeling in shock, they retreated to their separate corners as much as people living in a fishbowl with a whole lot of other fish can. Avery jumped into the Mini Cooper and drove off. With no destination in mind, she ended up on Collins Avenue heading north. For a while she simply drove and breathed, her only objective to get as far away as possible.
The hotels of South Beach had given way to high-rise condo buildings and then sprawling waterfront estates when she picked up her cell phone and called Chase. She continued to breathe in and exhale the salt-tinged air as she waited for him to pick up.
“Hey,” he said just when she was afraid she was going to be routed to voice mail. “What’s going on?”
Avery spilled it all, replaying every last word and look, spewing out her hurt and her sense of betrayal.
“I just don’t understand how Maddie could take Deirdre’s side,” she said for what might have been the third or fourth time. “And all of it happened on camera.”
“Something must be going on,” Chase said reasonably. “Maddie is a good friend of yours. And maybe she just put things in the wrong way.”
“Humph.” She wasn’t sure where she was at the moment, but she figured she couldn’t get completely lost as long as she kept heading north. “She said that Deirdre had been taking mothering lessons from her.”
“Really?”
“That’s what she said.”
“So Deirdre’s trying,” Chase said. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Another “humph.” No one was going to accuse her of being overly articulate tonight.
“She ran out on us. She ran out on me.”
“I know,” he said soothingly. “But she’s back. And she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.”
“That’s what Maddie said.”
“Maybe it’s time to give her a chance,” Chase said gently.
“Maddie said that too.”
He hesitated, but there was no judgment in the silence or in his voice when he finally spoke. “It may be time to let go of the anger, Avery,” he said.
“But I can’t,” she said automatically. And then, “How do you even do that?”
“You just do,” Chase said. “It’s a choice you make.” He paused. “It’s like when Dawn died. I was so angry with her for leaving us. And so scared. I had no idea how I was going to raise the boys without her.” She heard him swallow, could picture him running a hand through his dark hair. “I couldn’t imagine that we could have a life, just the three of us. I held on to the anger and fear for a long time. But at some point you have to just let go of it and move on. It’s damaging to you and everyone around you.”
Avery continued to drive, the wind whipping her hair. As annoying as Chase Hardin could be, right now the sound of his voice in her ear was as comforting as NASA control must have been to the Apollo 13 astronauts, stranded in space with a crippled spacecraft.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” she said.
“You can,” Chase said. “If you want to. I know you can.”
He fell silent and she drove for another mile just listening to the reassuring rhythm of his breathing. She made a U-turn and headed south.
“Where are you, Van?” he asked as the neon lights of South Beach came into view.
“I’m on my way back,” she said. “But I’m not sure how I’m going to handle the thing with Maddie.”
“It’ll work itself out,” he said. “But it sounds like maybe you need to find out what’s going on with her first.”
“Thanks,” she said as she pulled the Mini Cooper into the drive.
“Anytime, Van,” he said softly. “I know you’ll do the right thing. Sleep tight and hang in there. I’ll see you soon.”
Minutes later Avery raised the convertible top and sat staring at the dark house in front of her, trying to process all that had happened, replaying Chase’s words of advice. She appreciated his confidence in her, but it was hard to do the right thing when you had no idea what that thing was.
She walked past the silent house and around the pool still trying to come to terms with what she should do. Troy and Anthony were in the pool-house living room playing a video game while Andrew snored softly on the couch. She passed them without comment.
In the bedroom, Deirdre and Nicole appeared to be asleep. Careful not to wake them, Avery washed her face and brushed her teeth, staring at herself in the mirror as she played back Maddie’s comments. This time, rather than the hurtful words, she focused on the total “un-Maddie-ness” of what had been said.
It was only then that she knew what she had to do. Pulling on her pajamas, Avery crawled into bed, plugged in her phone, and set her alarm for O-dark-thirty.
Chapter Thirty
It was still dark when the bedroom door creaked open and a hand grasped Maddie’s shoulder and shook it none too gently.
“What?” She sat up, eyes wide open.
“Get up.” It was Avery, which made no sense at all. Avery was anti-morning and relied on heavy doses of caffeine to get herself going each day.
“We’ve got about thirty minutes until sunrise. And we’re going to the beach to watch it. But be quiet. I don’t want to wake Troy and Anthony.”
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday,” Maddie began, disoriented but eager to apologize. She’d lain awake a good part of the night kicking herself for the things she’d said and the way she’d said them. “I didn’t hear you come in last night or I would have apologized then.”
> “Not now.” Avery shushed her. “Nicole and Deirdre are getting dressed. Can you get Kyra and Dustin organized? We’ll pick up coffee on the way.”
Ten minutes later they tiptoed out of the pool house and across the dew-draped lawn like thieves in the night. The air was already heavy with humidity and the morning breeze was warm and salty. There was little traffic and even less conversation as they walked over to Ocean, Kyra pushing a sleepy-eyed Dustin in the jogging stroller.
At an open café they stopped at the counter for café con leche—Avery bought two—then carried them out to the beach, where they settled on the blankets they’d brought.
They faced the Atlantic and drank their coffees in silence for a few minutes. The jetty and Government Cut were visible to the south. The white sand beach angled northward. A few hearty souls were already out walking, and they’d passed a few joggers, but for the most part they were alone.
Madeline watched as the sky began to lighten and the first glow of morning sun appeared on the horizon. She breathed deeply, drawing the beginning of the new day into her lungs and holding on to it like a talisman. There were so many things unraveling in her life, and all of them seemed beyond her control. How could she help Kyra navigate the mine-strewn waters of her relationship with Daniel Deranian when her own relationship with Steve seemed to be detonating around her? And what would happen to Do Over when they’d finished The Millicent? Where would they go and what would they do if Tonja Kay made good on her threat?
She stole a look at Dustin, asleep in his stroller. Beside him, Kyra leaned back on her hands, arms straight, long legs crossed in the sand. She too stared out at the ocean. The jiggle of her bare feet belied the placid expression on her face.
“So,” Avery said when she’d finished the first coffee and planted the empty cup into the sand. “You may be wondering why I called this meeting. Especially since this isn’t my favorite part of the day.”
“No kidding.” Nicole pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you awake before the sun. Thank God that café was open.”
