by Wendy Wax
With a sigh, she stopped squinting out the salon windows trying to make out anything through the curtain of rain. The pool house, the seawall, the pass, and Shell Island had temporarily ceased to exist. Maddie’s gaze turned to Kyra, stretched flat on the sofa except for the rise of her stomach, the bowl of popcorn propped beside her. How many thousands of times had Maddie read The Cat in the Hat to Kyra and Andrew? Would she read it soon to Kyra’s son or daughter?
They hadn’t really spoken about the horrendous call from Tonja Kay, though Maddie had the sense that it had brought them to a truce of sorts. Maddie shook her head as she remembered her own response. As memories went, both sides of that conversation were truly cringe-worthy.
Sunset was impossible to pinpoint in the downpour, but when the movie ended Deirdre called a meeting in the Casbah Lounge to discuss and toast the show house opportunity.
Nicole blended a pitcher of piña coladas while Maddie heated up a cookie sheet of Bagel Bites and mini-quiche, the most recent selections from the frozen appetizer section at Sam’s Club. Avery poured her prized Cheez Doodles into a serving bowl. Then they put on exaggerated Moroccan accents and invited each other to “meet me in zee Casbah.”
The 1920s-era Spanish tiles gleamed in blues and reds and yellows. They bypassed the room’s two banquettes, framed by tiled columns supporting Moorish arches and set up on the tiled bar, Nikki playing bartender behind it, the others climbing up on high-backed stools.
“So,” Deirdre said right off. “I propose a toast to Bella Flora, this year’s Symphony Designer Show House!”
“Oh, my God! That’s so great!” Madeline said. “I feel like we’ve just gotten that last-minute reprieve from the governor.” She, Nicole, and Avery raised their piña coladas. Kyra raised her nonalcoholic version.
“That’s because we have,” Deirdre said. “The Designer Show House was already scheduled to open the week after Labor Day, which is perfect timing for us. And it was set for another Mediterranean Revival on Snell Isle.” She named the tony northeast St. Petersburg neighborhood. “But just two weeks ago, when the designers had already finished their plans and were ready to start working on their actual rooms, the owner backed out.”
“Why?” Madeline asked.
“The owner has decided to tear it down and sell the land. There’s been quite an uproar.”
“Can he do that?” Nicole asked.
“Apparently. I mean everyone from his neighbors to the preservation community is livid, but the owner’s in debt and hasn’t been able to sell the house. He can’t afford to maintain it. Unless his neighbors are willing to pitch in and buy it there’s not a lot they can do.”
Maddie looked around the bar and thought about all that had gone into Bella Flora; what an amazing house it was. When they’d first come it was simply a project of last resort, but she was incredibly glad they hadn’t torn it down.
“The show house people must have been ready to kiss your feet when you showed up with an alternative,” Nicole said. “This is about as win-win as it gets.”
“Yes,” Deirdre agreed. “And I may have implied that we might be able to get some sort of coverage through our connections at Lifetime and HGTV.” She smiled and took a sip of her drink. “It never hurts to dangle that extra carrot.
“I’ve invited the designers to come choose the rooms they want. Hopefully, they can adapt their original designs to fit Bella Flora. The fact that both houses are of the same period and style will be a huge help.”
“How much will they take over?” Maddie asked. “I mean, what do we have left to do?”
“Design-wise, since I’ve already started on the kitchen and the pool house, we’ll be responsible for seeing those all the way through; I’ll need your help with that. And I thought someone might approach Renée Franklin and her garden club to make sure they’re willing to finish the landscaping. We can offer them a credit in the program and possibly some tasteful signage.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Nikki said. “I bet they’d like that. Will the designers finish everything else?”
“Pretty much. We’ll need to get the steam heat taken care of so the pool can get done. How long do you think it’ll take to get someone here?”
“I’ll call Tim back in the morning,” Nikki replied. “We’ve been playing phone tag. I won’t let him say no. But we’ll probably have to take care of the workmen’s airfare and hotel and other expenses.”
Avery had pulled out a pad and was making notes. Madeline wondered how she felt about Deirdre becoming so crucial to their effort and how easily she seemed to be able to juggle all the details; another trait she and her daughter shared.
“I figure it’ll take us about a week to refinish the wood floors and any other structural things that remain. And then maybe another to help paint the exterior of the house. That would put us into the middle of August and leave us a little room for weather delays and so on. Does that seem like a workable time frame, Avery?”
She got a somewhat reluctant nod of agreement from Avery. All Maddie could think about was whether Steve would be here by then. She wanted so badly to believe he’d make it, but was horribly afraid that meant she was living beside her daughter in the land of denial.
“The designers can use that time to adapt their ideas,” Deirdre continued. “But once the floors are done, we’ll have to give them free access; they’re going to be under a major time crunch.” She paused and cocked her head toward her daughter. “I figure Avery and Chase can be in charge of scheduling and supervising our efforts.” She kept her gaze on Avery, but Avery didn’t respond. She did, however, seem to be blushing.
Maddie watched her stop writing, then slowly set down the pen. The blush had almost faded when Avery looked up from the pad. “Obviously we need to get started on the floors. So we’ll have to make the move to the pool house as soon as the rain stops.”
There was a collective groan even though they’d all known it was coming.
“It’s going to be pretty cramped in there,” Avery said, zeroing in on Deirdre. “Maybe you’d be happier at a hotel.”
A small flush spread over Deirdre’s cheeks, but Maddie wasn’t sure if it was one of hurt, anger, or embarrassment. The designer folded her hands on the bar in front of her. “I’ll be fine here,” she said, her tone crisp. “But thank you for your concern.”
They contemplated each other and Maddie was almost glad when Kyra lifted her video camera to her eye to preserve their identical expressions. Maddie wondered, not for the first time, whether Deirdre would succeed in building something with her daughter. She wondered if she’d be able to hold on to what she’d always had with Kyra.
Deirdre looked away first and addressed the group. “With each designer doing a room, it’ll really cut back on our time and expense. Of course there’ll be unexpected things that crop up, but I feel far better now about hitting our Labor Day deadline.”
With the high points hit, the meeting portion of their faux sunset ended. Avery popped the last Cheez Doodle into her mouth and Nicole divvied up the last of the piña coladas. Inside the lounge with its leaded glass casement windows it was somehow both exotic and cozy.
“So,” Avery said after she’d wiped the last of the cheese from her lips. “What did Tonja Kay sound like on the phone?”
“Pissed off,” Maddie said. “And extremely vulgar.”
Kyra snorted her agreement.
“I’ve never heard such foul language.” Maddie shuddered at the memory.
“I knew it wasn’t going to be good when she asked to talk to the ‘whore’s mother,’ ” Kyra admitted.
“And you just handed the phone over?” Nicole asked.
“Well, Mom was standing right there, and I guess I was too stunned to think straight,” Kyra said. Maddie felt her daughter’s gaze on her; Kyra had been more than stunned, she’d been devastated that it wasn’t Daniel on the line.
“But Mom gave it right back to her,” Kyra said. “I didn’t even realize she
knew some of those words. I know I’ve never heard her say any of them.”
They all turned to look at her. Maddie shrugged. “She provoked me.” This, of course, was an understatement. The woman’s ugly attack had left her with no recourse but to defend her child.
Nicole considered Madeline and Kyra. “I hope you know how lucky you are, Kyra. Your mother’s one of the most nurturing women I’ve ever met. And she’s definitely got your back.” She looked down at her glass before meeting Maddie’s gaze. “That’s not always the way it works.”
Maddie smiled her thanks to Nikki, and figured Avery would take the opportunity to get a dig in at her own mother, but it was Deirdre who said sadly, “No, it’s not.”
In the silence that followed, Maddie lifted her mostly empty glass. “Well, I propose a toast to Deirdre snagging the design and symphony people! And to how close we are to completion!”
They drank.
“I’m already trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the money from the sale of Bella Flora . . . after we pay off the bills.” Of course there’d be Andrew’s tuition and Kyra’s delivery and whatever the baby would need. Still, Maddie felt almost starry-eyed thinking about not having to pinch every penny.
“I can hardly wait to buy pretty clothes again. Hell, I can hardly wait to wear some,” Nikki said. “Soffes and T-shirts do not count!”
“And I’m going to buy something that I can spend my time designing and remodeling,” Avery said, her glass held high. “I just hope I’ll have enough left over to hire my own grunts instead of being one!”
Kyra filmed all of their toasts and boasts, offering nothing of her own. But Maddie knew what she was holding out for. A healthy baby went without saying, but Maddie didn’t know how likely a happily ever after could be with someone who’d chosen to marry the likes of Tonja Kay.
Sometime during the night the rain finally stopped. Maddie wasn’t sure what woke her. It might have been the abrupt silence. Or maybe all the worries that kept trailing through her mind finally registered, demanding to be dealt with.
She climbed off her mattress and stood, stepping carefully around Kyra’s futon. Her daughter slept on her side, her cheek pillowed in her palm, her long dark hair spilling over one slim shoulder. The sheets were tangled and Maddie bent down to gently smooth the covers around her. She slept deeply, a small smile on her lips. Maddie was glad that her dreams, at least, were happy.
Padding down the stairs, she paused on the landing to stare out the fixed glass. The backyard was pale in the moonlight, the pool house little more than a long rectangle of deeper shadow. Out on the pass, the moon was reflected on the now calm water. Shell Key was a large lump of darkness in the distance.
Downstairs she walked from room to room, listening carefully to the creaks and moans as the house settled in the silence. In the kitchen she sat at the table and reached for the laptop she’d left there. After booting it up and logging onto the Internet, she stared at the screen for a time before clicking on the link to YouTube, where she watched all of the posts so far and had to admit that although all of them had been exposed in ways they never would have chosen, Kyra had also managed to catch not only the personalities of the participants but the tone of their life together and what anyone could see was a growing friendship.
But she hadn’t turned to the computer for a YouTube evaluation. Screwing up her courage, she typed in her password and waited for AOL to come up. Unwilling to continue to place calls to Steve that went unanswered, she’d sent him an email and asked Andrew to make sure his father at least saw it. She’d been putting off looking for a response, afraid there wouldn’t be one. But August was upon them. She needed to know whether it was time to rejoice or to give up hope.
She double clicked on the mail icon and almost closed her eyes, afraid to look. But there was an email from Steve waiting. Holding her breath, she clicked it open, telling herself that whatever it was it was something. And that even if it was from Andrew it would be okay.
The message was short and to the point. It was written in Steve’s usual style with none of the lowercase breeziness that had become so popular. Maddie licked her dry lips as she read, Very sorry I left you holding the bag. You deserve better. Steve.
She reread it far too many times trying to decide exactly what it meant. Was it just a straightforward apology with no promise of change? Did it signal an end or a beginning?
Maddie stared out over the dark backyard and the still water beyond and prayed that it would somehow turn out to be both.
Thirty-one
The move into the pool house didn’t take long. They had little baggage, Avery thought, except for the emotional kind. Chase, Giraldi, and Robby, who was back, along with the current Dante family member, moved the rest.
Following Deirdre’s direction, they crammed the couch, TV, chair, and Kyra’s futon into an approximation of a living area at the end overlooking the pass. Maddie, Avery, Nicole, and Deirdre’s mattresses filled in the center of the space and left just enough room to fit in three barstools at the oversized kitchen counter.
“Well,” Deirdre said, having to step back into the doorway to study the space. “As design styles go I’d have to label this ‘jam-packed.’ ”
“No kidding. When we get in bed we’re going to look like sardines wedged into a tin,” Nicole said.
“It does give downsizing a whole new meaning,” Maddie said. “But I think it’s kind of cozy.”
“Claustrophobic is a better word.” Kyra had her camera out and was already panning across the row of mattresses.
“No, seriously.” As always Maddie seemed determined to put the best spin on things. “It’s kind of like a tree house without the tree. Or a clubhouse.”
“Do you really have to shoot in here?” Nicole asked. “It’s bad enough having to be the sardine. I can’t stand having it broadcast all over the Internet. My reputation is already shot. I don’t know how I’ll ever show my face again in Palm Beach or L.A. Why don’t we just keep this final humiliation to ourselves?”
“I don’t know,” Maddie said. “We’re up to fifty thousand views, which means Bella Flora is getting some pretty broad exposure. And most of the comments have been really positive.”
“Some of us don’t see ‘not bad for a bunch of old broads,’ as particularly positive.” Nicole’s tone was dry. “Ditto for ‘where’s the button to vote people off this reality show?’ ”
“I thought the ‘we want more of the hunky guys’ comments were pretty positive,” Chase said, coming to join them.
“I’m pretty sure they were referring to Giraldi and Umberto,” Avery said.
Giraldi, who now stood in the open doorway, took a mock bow and struck an exaggerated muscle pose. Nicole gave Giraldi a once-over. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
He just smiled and flexed. Once again Avery wondered what was up with them.
“My favorite was ‘almost as entertaining as Foreman vs. Frazier,’” Deirdre said. “I’m pretty sure that one was about you and Chase.”
Everyone got a big yuck over that, but Avery was not amused. She didn’t have the energy to argue about video and was far too busy thinking about what still had to be done and how they were going to accomplish it to get sidetracked by all the weird vibes zinging between her and Chase. Not to mention living in even closer proximity to Deirdre, who’d turned out to be not at all as expected. And far more valuable to all of them than Avery would have liked.
Today Deirdre had gotten Chase and Giraldi to mount an additional towel bar and decorative hooks in the tiny bathroom. With Maddie’s help she’d organized a rolling clothing rack, a dresser, and a temporary shelving unit for their clothes, somehow managing to fit in the necessities and still make the space surprisingly stylish.
She did all this while impeccably dressed and in full makeup. But although she looked like the Design Diva the television shows and magazines had always made her out to be, she didn’t actually whine, demand, or complai
n. She just got things done. Her determination to establish a relationship with Avery hadn’t wilted under the living or working conditions. When the going had gotten tough, she’d gotten going. What she hadn’t done was turned and run.
“I think we need to put a big sign outside that says, Girls Only, No Boys Allowed,” Avery said.
“Yeah and we can have a secret handshake. Maybe even a password.” Nicole’s tone remained dry.
Avery looked up and noticed that once again Kyra was filming it all.
Broad shouldered, Chase and Joe pretty much filled the doorway. “That’s all right. We don’t want any of those girl cooties anyway,” Chase said. “Do we, Joe?”
“I don’t know, I’m thinking panty raid.” Joe grinned and shot Nicole a look, which she pointedly ignored.
Avery wished she could tune out Chase as easily, but she always felt so damned . . . aware of him. Pretending to ignore someone wasn’t at all the same as actually not noticing them. Still, she couldn’t let her adolescent reactions or the fact that she’d been stupid enough to kiss him keep them from doing what had to be done, not when they were getting so close to the finish line.
She caught up with Chase beside the pool. “When will we be able to start on the floors?” she asked, careful not to get close enough to get caught up in all that zinging.
“The belt sander’s up in the master,” he replied. “I’ve got my floor guy scheduled to start first thing in the morning.”
Avery nodded. After the initial sanding, a coat of stain would be applied, then a coat of polyurethane, which would sit for twenty-four hours. This would be followed by a light sanding and a last coat of poly. All in all a week to ten days should see the floors ready for foot traffic.
“Of course both sets of stairs and the edges and thresholds will have to be sanded by hand.” Chase looked her in the eye, and she caught herself remembering the way he’d looked at her as he moved in for the kiss. “I figure if we put all five of you on that, we can get the first pass done in two days and be ready to stain.”
