A Sea Change

by Annette Reynolds

  “You have to leave now,” she said dispassionately. “Nick’ll be here in an hour, and I have to get ready.”

  “It was that guy – Ted. He told me you didn’t want to see me.”

  Maddy slowly turned around.

  “He said you hated me, Maddy.”

  The years fell away, and she was looking at the young boy who never fit in. She heard the loneliness in his voice, and knew it reached into his soul. Horrified, she softly asked, “Why did you believe him?”

  “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Maddy closed her eyes tightly, as her anger transferred to Ted. If he were standing before her now she knew she’d be justified in killing him, so great was her hatred for him.

  When she looked at Danny again, she said, “You should’ve known better. You should’ve tried again.”

  “He threatened me. I was only eighteen. I was scared.”

  “When you found me here, why did you wait so long? Surely you could see that Ted was out of my life. You couldn’t have still been scared.”

  “I wasn’t scared of you, Maddy,” he said. “I knew that if I got you to hear me out, you’d understand.”

  “Then, what?”

  “It was Nick. I didn’t want to hear him say the things Ted said to me.”

  “But you know Nick, now. You know he’d never do anything that ugly.”

  Danny looked at her, then said, “I don’t know that at all.” He took her hand. “And you won’t tell him who I am. Will you,” he stated.

  “I can’t keep something like this from Nick.”

  “It’s not just Nick,” he said quickly. “It’s everyone. I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of. I have to be Phil Madvick. It’s for your protection, too, Maddy.” In reality he didn’t want to share her with anyone. Didn’t want anyone else in on their secret. He wanted Maddy to himself.

  Years of denial and half-truths – the patterns of her existence – had forged a defensive barrier around Maddy, which she’d thought had dissolved. But she felt something snap shut inside her. Madeleine’s Box ̶ the one Jaed always teased her with ̶ which safeguarded not only herself, but the memory of Danny as well, was under lock and key once again.

  She let go of his hand and quietly – sadly – said, “I won’t tell Nick. I promise.” He smiled his thanks. “How will we talk, Danny? There’s so much I need to know.”

  “It’s Phil. You have to remember, Maddy,” he said, making for the door. “I’ll come to you. When Nick’s gone, we’ll make up for lost time.”

  Maddy dressed for her date. A cold, wet washcloth took down some of the swelling around her eyes. But the perfume she anointed herself with smelled of sacrifice. And the joy and anticipation she’d felt earlier had been replaced by a mournful feeling of loss.

  Maddy walked into the kitchen, her high heels clicking hollowly on the tiles. She stood in front of the refrigerator, staring at the crudely beautiful watercolor Becky McKay had made for her – the thing her father had rolled up tightly, tied with a ribbon, and brought to her last night. A lump formed in her throat, but she couldn’t cry anymore. Not tonight.

  When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, she was still gazing at the painting of a mermaid with a little girl sitting in her lap, smiling, while a man and a woman held hands and kissed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Nick shoved the key into the deadbolt and viciously turned it. He pushed the door open hard enough that it hit the stop, bounced back, and hit him in the shoulder. As he slammed it shut, the sleeve of his jacket caught on the handle, and while he tried to free himself, said, “Let go of me you cheap-ass piece of hardware!” When he finally got loose he heard the inner lining of the two hundred and seventy-five dollar – and that was on sale – silk Armani rip apart. Nick clawed his way out of the jacket, threw it down the hallway, and yelled, “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs.

  It had been, by far, the worst date he could remember. And he could remember some evenings that made Bonnie and Clyde’s final get-together a real picnic.

  Nick strode into the kitchen, pulling his shirt out of the waistband of his black jeans, which – he now noticed – sported a fade-mark the size of a fifty-cent piece. This, from the cleansing powder he’d used to get the motor oil off his hands twenty minutes before leaving the house. He should’ve seen the writing on the wall right then.

  Uncapping a Heineken, Nick drained half the bottle in one long swallow then took it into the bedroom, where he plopped onto the bed and pulled a boot off. Throwing it full force in the general vicinity of the closet, he yanked off the other, and it met the same fate. Upending the beer, he finished it and then sat with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor, the bottle dangling from his fingertips.

  The phone rang and Nick’s head came up. He listened as the answering machine came on, but it wasn’t Maddy. It was his sister’s voice saying, “It’s me. I know you’re on your big date, but call me when you can and tell me how perfect it was. You know, give credit where credit’s due and all… Did you end up going to that place on the water? Or did you toss out my infinite wisdom when it comes to romance? Come on, Nicky, tell Kay all about it. Oh, by the way, it’s nine-fifteen, give or take.”

  Nick snorted. “Yeah, Kay. It was so fuckin’ perfect I’m home at the time most dates are just getting to the good part.”

  His anger at the world in general had dissipated, leaving him slightly pissed-off and much puzzled. Okay, so he’d been a tad on the anxious side – wanting everything to be just right – which always brought out an annoying, anal side to his character. And actually, the only thing he’d tightened up about was having to wait for a window table, even though he’d specifically requested one when he made the reservation.

  No. He hadn’t been the problem.

  Nick set the bottle on the nightstand and sat back against the headboard. Unbuttoning his shirt, he tried to figure out exactly where it all went wrong.

  *****

  Nick had hidden the dozen pale pink roses behind his back and waited for her to open the door. When she did, his mouth went from a smile to slack-jawed wonder. He couldn’t stop himself as his eyes travelled down, then back up her body. An involuntary whistle escaped his lips. The only thing he’d noticed at that moment was how incredibly sexy she looked, and he said so.

  She gave him a small smile, which he took as inviting, and said, “So do you.”

  Remembering the flowers, Nick held them out and kissed her as she took them from him.

  Maddy brought them to her nose. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. “Wow,” she said. “I’m surprised they’re actually fragrant.” She turned and started down the hall. “Let me put them in water before we leave.”

  There was no surprise involved, though. This was not left to chance. He’d remembered Maddy once saying, while introducing him to the rose she kept on the deck, “Roses are beautiful, but if they don’t smell like a rose, what’s the point?” He’d gone to five florists before he’d found roses that smelled like roses.

  Nick followed her, enjoying the view and he spoke his thoughts. “Y’know, I love watching you walk away from me.”

  Maddy stopped and turned. The look on her face was confused; almost sad. “What a strange thing to say,” she said.

  Nick was also puzzled. “I just meant you look good coming or going,” he’d explained, wondering why he even had to explain.

  Maddy nodded absentmindedly and continued toward the kitchen.

  She reached up to open a cabinet. The portion of his brain labeled “Erotic Stimuli” went into overdrive. Nick watched as her skirt hiked up, revealing the top of her stocking, and the garter that held it up. At that point he seriously considered bagging dinner.

  Maddy was at the sink, filling a vase with water, when Nick silently stepped behind her. He pressed the length of his body against hers, slid his hands down her thighs, gently bit the flesh where her neck met her shoulder. An involuntary moan escaped her and she’d arched aga
inst him. This immediate response to his touch thrilled Nick. It had from the start.

  He lifted a handful of skirt, his fingers searching and finding the place where stocking gave way to smooth skin. His other hand moved along the slick fabric that covered her belly. Nick whispered, “I want you now.” She shivered, and he went on. “But I think waiting will make it even better.”

  Maddy had slowly, deliberately turned to face him, their bodies a magnetic force unable to part. With her hands on his hips, she pulled him closer still. She kissed him with a hunger that left him breathless. Then she stopped, leaving him suspended between heaven and earth, and said, “I don’t deserve you.”

  He’d opened his eyes, looked into hers, and got the oddest feeling she actually meant it.

  “What’s wrong, Maddy?” he’d asked.

  *****

  ‘Right there,’ Nick thought. ‘That’s where I should’ve made her sit down and tell me what was going on in her head.’

  But because of where his own head had been at that instant – which was envisioning it between her legs – he’d let her answer of, “I guess I’m just a little tired,” satisfy him.

  *****

  He had helped her on with her jacket and they’d left Jaed’s house. Maddy teetered along the path, her heels sinking into the muck. At the stairway, Nick took her elbow and stopped her. “You can’t walk up these steps in those. Give me your key. I’ll go back and get your sandals.”

  She looked down at her feet and said, “That’s funny. I usually remember to do that on my own.”

  When Nick returned, Maddy stood exactly where he’d left her, but she wasn’t alone. Phil Madvick leaned against the bannister, his hand on the rail only a few inches from hers. Nick couldn’t see his face, but he saw Maddy’s. And it hadn’t been his imagination that she did a caught-in-the-act, double-take when she noticed his approach.

  Madvick turned around then. He took in Nick’s appearance and grinned. “Whoa! Look at that sharp-dressed man.” Nick didn’t smile in return, and Phil straightened up, saying, “We were just discussing some work Maddy needs done.”

  Nick handed Maddy the sandals, never taking his eyes off the other man, and said, “I can handle anything Maddy needs done.”

  “Sure. Of course. Sorry, Nick. You am de boss.” Madvick took a few steps back. “Hey, you kids have a great time tonight.” He turned and quickly moved down the path.

  *****

  Nick wearily pushed himself off the bed and padded into the kitchen for another beer.

  Maybe he’d been the problem after all. Maybe, in some subliminal way, he’d let Phil Madvick get to him. Maybe the heartburn he’d gotten before they’d even eaten had been obvious.

  “Yeah, and just maybe I imagined Maddy telling me she had a headache half-way through the appetizer,” Nick said to himself, tossing the bottle opener onto the counter. The sound of metal hitting tile rang through the empty house.

  They’d sat at their window table, with the view of Vashon Island, and their twenty-six dollar bottle of wine, and made small talk. Small talk, for Christ’s sake, when what he’d really wanted to do was somehow let her know how he felt about her; And to tell her how she’d given him the impetus to try for joint custody again; And to talk about what they’d do in Victoria when they were alone in their room.

  Earlier, Nick had imagined holding her hand in the movie theater, doing a little necking. Maybe driving somewhere dark and deserted, and doing it in the truck, like a couple of teenagers. And right now, he could actually envision her straddling him – her skirt as it rode up her thighs – the black lace of her garter belt an added fantasy he couldn’t have summoned up if he hadn’t already glimpsed it.

  But they never got as far as dessert. Maddy’s half-eaten planked salmon got wrapped in foil, along with Nick’s fantasies, and he brought her home. She apologized the whole way. At her front door he still had hope, and had said, “I might be able to help you with that headache.” But Maddy had wanly smiled, said she was sorry for the twentieth time and gone inside, alone.

  As he thought about it, Nick could see how badly he’d played it. Her clothes had sent one signal, but the message in her eyes made him realize how truly shitty Maddy had felt. There had been a sadness in them he’d refused to acknowledge the entire night – until now.

  The beer stood open on the counter. Nick gazed at the blinking light on his answering machine. No way he was calling Kay back tonight. There was only one person he wanted to talk to about what had happened, and he looked out the window across the beach. Her bedroom lamp was still on, and Nick dialed her number.

  The busy signal stymied him. And then, out of nowhere, an unwanted thought entered his mind. Nick vaguely wondered where this new side to his personality – this jealous, prying side – had been hiding, as he punched in Number 70’s phone number.

  He stared out through the darkness at Jaed’s house, while he listened as the phone company confirmed his suspicions. Because who in the hell would Phil Madvick be talking to anytime, let alone this time of night?

  Journal Entry

  July 27 – 8:30 p.m.

  I feel totally disoriented. Completely worn out. Yet I slept the whole day away. I got up once to feed Chloe then decided sleep was preferable to thinking. But now I’m awake, and can’t stop thinking.

  I’ve gone through so many changes in my life these past few months and I was just starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The glimpse I had of the future made me think I stood a chance at finally being happy.

  Bringing up the past with Nick made it seem less horrible. Sharing it with him seemed to diminish its ability to hurt me. I guess it was a weight I’d been carrying around a long time. Saying the words – having them actually leave my body – made me feel so much lighter. No more secrets was such a good thing.

  But now there’s a new secret. And it’s a huge one. The weight is back, and it seems even heavier than before.

  I’m so confused. For years I thought that if I had Danny back in my life everything would fall into place. My world would be whole again and we could pick up where we’d left off. That I’d have my family back, and I’d know exactly where my life should go.

  But that’s not what happened.

  I lost that fantasy family a long time ago. And this Danny who’s come to me is so different from the one I’ve had in my memory. I know it’s stupid to think he’d be the same little brother who left us. But since all I’ve had is my memory and a handful of photographs, he’s been frozen in time. It’s hard to reconcile this adult Danny with the boy who drove away in a VW beetle.

  He’s my brother, but he’s also a stranger. I don’t know him anymore. And he doesn’t know me. It will take a lot to make up for this lost time.

  He’s appeared out of nowhere. He says he loves me. Says he’s missed me. But in the first hour we were together he asked me to lie for him. And I said I would. If blood is thicker than water, why do I feel so angry? What could be so important that I have to deceive Nick? After all these years of absence, how is it fair to ask me to do something so lousy?

  And what about Mom and Dad? Don’t they have a right to know he’s alive? But Mom called this morning and, once again, I had to pretend nothing had changed. When will that ever end?

  I have to do the right thing. How do I decide what that is?

  I guess it means listening to what Danny has to say. But how do I do that without alienating Nick? I can already feel him stepping back. He’s having second thoughts about ‘Phil.’ He’s jealous of him, in more ways than one. I can hear it in the tone of his voice when he talks about him. I saw it on his face when he saw the two of us at the bottom of the steps. Nick is already beginning to doubt my feelings for him. I’ve just gotten him to trust me. This very large secret could be the end of all that.

  I need to tell Nick exactly how I feel about him. Saying “I love you” in the throes of passion doesn’t really mean anything. He has to understand it goes deeper than that.


  God, I can’t think.

  Danny called after I got back from that disastrous date. He wanted to talk, and I just couldn’t. I told him I’d be the one who did the calling from now on. That he had to stay away from me until I could figure out how to ease Nick’s mind. And when I am ready to hear what he has to say, it better be damned good.

  The date…It was so hard for me. I had so many little fantasies about what would happen that night. I never dreamed I’d ruin it, but I felt absolutely helpless to do anything to save it. I think I was in shock, because at the start of the evening I thought I was handling myself pretty well. When I told Nick I was tired, that was the truth. And I did have a raging headache, but since we were making conversation I figured it couldn’t possibly be going as badly as all that. But I ran out of things to say, because all I could think about was Danny. And the pain got so bad I thought I was going to be sick. I guess it was at that point when I closed my eyes without even realizing I’d done it, that Nick said he’d take me home.

  I know he was upset. He tried hard not to show it, but it came out in the way he drove, and the way he responded to my endless apologies. “Hey, if you feel bad, you feel bad,” or “There’ll be other nights,” or “I’m sorry, too, but I wish you’d let me know how you felt from the start.”

  God, how I wish I could’ve just told him what was going on. But I made that promise to Danny.

  This is driving me crazy. I’m going to have to tell Danny how I feel about Nick. I’ve got to make him understand how much Nick means to me, and that I can’t risk losing him. But I could say the same for Danny, too, couldn’t I? I don’t want to lose him again, either.