by Wendy Wax
“Honestly, I’m pretty sure that’s a sign that they’re secure,” Maddie said. “In my book that’s a good thing.”
“You heard that, right?” Nikki said to Kyra. “I am now in possession of an officially sanctioned good thing for tonight.”
“Well, if you’re handing them out, I’ll take one,” Kyra said as they reached the main building and walked past the pool. The sound of conversation floated down from the rooftop deck, always a popular location for watching the sunset. So far, it and the dining room were just about breaking even and beach club memberships were growing. Cottage sales continued to languish. Even the two that had been purchased after last spring’s Sandcastle Showdown had not yet been finished out.
Maddie gave her a look. “Coming up with one good thing is an exercise in positivity. All things considered, I think it would do you good to take the time to come up with something of your own.”
Kyra flushed at the unusual sharpness of her mother’s words and focused her gaze on the weakening sun.
They joined Avery and Bitsy just beyond the low concrete wall that separated the pool deck from the beach. Folding chairs had been arranged around a low cooler on which an assortment of snacks had been placed. The breeze off the gulf was brisk. The palm trees swayed and rustled.
“It felt too cold for blender drinks, so I brought wine.” Bitsy wore sweatpants and a mink jacket that had seen better days. Avery’s blond hair was hidden beneath a flannel hoodie.
“I see Avery was in charge of snacks.” Nikki observed with a nod to the array of cheese products arranged around a bowl of her beloved Cheez Doodles.
“Hey. Don’t dis the Cheez Doodles,” Avery protested. “They’re one of the few things that a woman can always count on.”
“Hmmm.” Kyra dropped into a seat and reached for a Cheez Doodle. “So this”—she held up the C of puffy cheese—“is more enjoyable than, say, Chase Hardin?”
“Well, it’s a lot less demanding.” Avery popped a Doodle into her mouth. “It’s designed to give you pleasure and it doesn’t expect a major commitment in return.”
Kyra wasn’t the only one watching Avery’s face, but it was Maddie who asked, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” Avery said. “Absolutely nothing. I haven’t heard from him since I told him I just wanted to date and, you know, have a good time.” She took a long, somewhat desperate sip of her wine. “If you’re looking for a good thing from me tonight, I’m going with the snack that never lets you down.” She consumed a handful of Cheez Doodles for emphasis and turned to the person next to her. “How about you, Bitsy? I’ve hardly seen you since you got back from Palm Beach. How’d it go?”
Bitsy pulled the fur coat tighter, but Kyra didn’t think her shiver was due to the cold. “In terms of humiliation-to-achievement ratio? It sucked.” Bitsy, who could and had drunk them all under the table on more than one occasion, finished her glass of wine and poured another. “But if you’re looking for a ‘good thing’ from me, it finally forced me to face reality. I mean, I’ve spent a whole year hoping he’d come back with some sort of acceptable explanation.”
“You mean other than lust and greed?” Nikki asked.
Bitsy nodded. “But I’ve finally let go of the fantasy and I’ve sent all the financial records to a forensic accountant June recommended. It’s a first step in tracing the money and documenting fraud that could get the authorities involved.” She refilled all of their glasses and raised hers. “My good thing is facing reality. Ugly though it may be.”
“To facing reality.” Kyra joined in the toast, trying hard not to think about her own reality and all that tomorrow would bring.
From her seat next to Bitsy, Nikki raised her glass. “Tonight my good thing is that my daughters are apparently secure enough to ignore me.” She sighed and drank without waiting for a formal toast.
“Really?” Avery asked. “We’re drinking to that?”
“Hey, we didn’t call you on using Cheez Doodles for the umpteenth time,” Nikki snapped. “Maddie told me it qualified, and I don’t have anything more positive to offer at the moment since I’ve been replaced by Mary Frickin’ Poppins.” Nikki’s gaze narrowed. “Besides, we’re not supposed to judge whether a good thing is good enough. We’re just supposed to come up with one.”
As tension prickled around her, Kyra looked up at the sky, surprised by how low the sun hung over the water. They’d wasted most of the “show” trying to spin their problems into positives. Although she wouldn’t have thought it possible, she felt worse than when she’d gotten there.
“Sorry,” Nikki said. “Sofia and Gemma may not be experiencing separation anxiety, but I guess I am.” She drew a deep breath. “Let’s face it, Maddie. You and Kyra are off for new adventures tomorrow. The rest of us are being left behind.”
“Yeah, well, Mom’s the only one going somewhere she actually wants to go,” Kyra said.
“She’s going to go on tour with the rock icon formerly known as William the Wild,” Avery added. “And she gets to sleep with him.”
“And he’s in love with her,” Bitsy said.
Kyra looked at her mother, watched her rein in her excitement, the care she took to keep her smile in check. “And we are total bitches for making her feel like she has to hide her happiness.”
“We are.” Nikki held out her plastic goblet. “Fill’er up so we can drink a toast to Maddie. Who deserves every good thing that happens.”
“To Maddie!” They clinked plastic rims and drank as the sun sank beneath the water. They drank another in the fading light.
“You don’t want to drive with a hangover tomorrow, honey.” Maddie reached for Kyra’s empty goblet and removed it gently from her hand.
“I don’t want to drive tomorrow at all.”
“Isn’t changing location for an entire major motion picture at the last minute kind of unusual?” Nikki asked.
“Well, I’d say so, but the only big-budget film I ever worked on was Halfway Home and I wasn’t exactly privy to those kinds of decisions.” Tears pricked the back of her eyelids as she remembered her brief and turbulent time on her first and only feature film, an unwelcome addition to the knot of worry that tightened in the pit of her stomach every time she thought about what lay ahead.
“So, you don’t think it’s a negative? Or a sign of problems?” Avery asked.
“I really don’t know,” Kyra said, grateful for the gathering darkness as she struggled to hold back the tears that threatened. “I mean, I don’t see how it could be a positive, but it might just be a matter of logistics.” Their faces blurred in the fading light. Or maybe it was the sheen of tears that she couldn’t seem to blink away. “Honestly?” Her voice broke on the word. “It wouldn’t matter if we were shooting around the corner. I’m afraid I’m not strong enough for this. How will I handle watching Daniel with his wife and family? How will I bear everyone knowing that I was a stupid girl who believed a movie star when he told me that he loved me?” She meant to stop there, but the alcohol and—no doubt, her fear—had loosened her tongue. “How will I protect Dustin from being hurt? He’s never really questioned why his father isn’t with him all that much or the way he pops in and out of his life, but . . .” She swiped at the tears, willing them to stop. She’d already said far too much.
The rooftop deck was emptying and there were sounds of the staff cleaning up. Here, in their small circle of beach, it was too dark to see, yet she could feel everyone’s eyes on her.
“Daniel loves him, Kyra,” Maddie said softly. “Despite the original legalese, he’s acknowledged Dustin as his son and made sure he’s had far more than the basics. And he has even more reason now to make sure he’s comfortable on location and on set.” Her mother’s arm went around her shoulders, warm and sure. “You’ve committed to this and now I think you have to show up hoping for the best but prepared for the
worst.”
The others murmured their agreement.
“And you can come back some weekends, right?” Avery said. “I’ll be here. And so will Nikki and Bitsy.”
“And your dad,” Maddie said. “And you know I’ll come back if you need me.”
“And let’s not forget Luvie,” Nikki added. “I have no doubt she could handle the girls and Dustin with one hand tied behind her back. Your village will be here waiting if you need it.”
Kyra’s cheeks were damp. She nodded and sniffed.
“And if Daniel Deranian or Tonja Kay or anyone else on that movie set gives you trouble, you just call us,” Bitsy said.
“And we’ll come drop a whole lot of whoop ass on them and bring you home. They won’t know what hit them.” This threat came from Avery.
“Whoop ass?” Nikki said. “Seriously?”
“Hey, sometimes you just have to tap into your inner redneck,” Avery said.
There was laughter. Maddie squeezed Kyra’s arm and helped her to her feet. They began to gather things up in the dark.
“Thanks,” Kyra said as they parted. “I’ll sleep a whole lot better knowing you guys and your whoop ass are on call.”
She didn’t, though. In fact, she barely slept at all. And as she’d discovered on more than one occasion, there was no holding back the dawn.
Eight
The minivan was packed and ready for the trip down to the Keys when Maddie walked Kyra, Dustin, and Max to the rental Jeep the next morning. Dustin and Max raced for the car. Kyra moved slowly, her eyes wary, the skin beneath them hollow and dark from lack of sleep.
Maddie wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Just breathe deeply and remember that your entire purpose for being there is to make sure Dustin’s comfortable. That’s it. You have nothing to prove or defend. Not to anyone.”
“Right.” She stepped back, her smile tremulous, but there, as she turned to Dustin. “Are you ready to hit the road?”
Dustin threw his arms around Maddie’s waist and hugged her tightly, vibrating with excitement. “I’m going to hact with Dandiel.”
“I know, sweetheart.” She hugged him back, his small, sturdy body solid and warm against hers. “I can’t wait to see you up there on the big screen.”
Dustin climbed into his booster seat. Max bounded into the backseat and settled beside him as Maddie clicked the seat belt into place. “Have fun. And you be sure to tell Mommy if anything bothers you.”
“Have a great time, Mom.” Kyra hugged her almost as tightly as Dustin had. “And don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
“I know you will.” She cupped Kyra’s face in one hand. “But keep me posted.”
“G’bye, Geema!” Dustin threw her a kiss through the window. Max woofed beside him.
Maddie threw a kiss back then stood waving, the smile affixed to her face, until they disappeared from view. Then it was her turn to breathe deeply, grateful as she got in the van that she was on her way to Will and a new adventure, doing something just for herself. Just because she wanted to.
On the high-arched span of the Skyway Bridge she hit “play” on Hightower’s latest album and looked over her shoulder at Pass-a-Grille, a sliver of sand floating on an aquamarine sea.
* * *
• • •
Based on the billboards Kyra passed as she headed east on Interstate 4 toward the center of the state, Winter Haven’s chief claim to fame was its chain of fifty lakes. This was followed by citrus groves that you could tour and then pick your own fruit. Its only serious attraction appeared to be Legoland, which was aimed at the two-to-twelve-year-old set. Although Dustin would undoubtedly enjoy the theme park, she doubted that brightly colored bits of plastic could compete with Mickey Mouse. Which begged the question, why had filming been moved here?
The GPS directed her off I-4 and wound her through what could only be called a very small town. It was a pretty place with pockets of historic homes, several lakefront parks, and a certain quaint charm. Their final destination was not a fancy hotel in an upscale resort area but a winding dirt road that ended abruptly at a guard gate.
“I’m Kyra Singer. I . . .”
“Yes, of course, Ms. Singer. We’ve been expecting you.” The guard was a slight, white-haired woman with a friendly smile and a face that had once been beautiful.
“Your cottage is on Lantana Lane; it’ll be the third small street on your left. There’s only one guest cottage per street.” She handed Kyra a small map with an X marked on it. “This is more of a compound than a neighborhood. There are a total of eight homes, all of them lakefront. There’s only one road and it makes a complete circle around the lake. The gate is always manned if you have a problem or need anything. It’s the only way in and out. We do take security here very seriously.” She smiled pleasantly and raised the barrier.
Kyra drove slowly. Heavily wooded lots curved around the lake. Stands of trees lined the opposite edge of the paved two-lane road providing shade and privacy. They passed two signs and the turnoffs that followed before coming to Lantana Lane. Their cottage was a lovely Craftsman-style bungalow with a broad wooden front porch, squared fieldstone columns, and a shingled roof nestled under a stand of pine trees. Dustin climbed out of the Jeep with Max, who headed for the nearest tree. Spotting the lake at the rear of the property, she and Dustin walked toward it, Max sniffing his way and winding between their feet. At the edge of the lake a private dock stretched before them; an upturned canoe sat on the shore.
“Lookit! A boat!”
The only other home visible from where they stood was a sprawling multilevel log home on the opposite side of the lake with walls of glass fronting the water. The other cottages were apparently hidden by the trees, but each had a long, narrow dock like theirs that stuck out into the lake like the spokes of a wheel.
“Kin we go out on the boat?”
“Let’s get our things and see the cottage first.” She took Dustin’s hand.
Max’s head went up. His ears pricked back and forth. At his first bark Kyra looked up and saw Daniel coming down the back porch steps and walking toward them.
“My Dandiel!” Dustin made a beeline for his father, who picked him up and swung him around. Max woofed and nosed his way into the father-son reunion. “Is that my boat?”
“It’s yours to use,” Daniel said. “But only with your mother or another adult.” He set Dustin down then ruffled his curls. “Let me help you bring your luggage in.”
Dustin skipped happily ahead with Max at his heels. Daniel fell in beside Kyra.
“So you’re producer, director, and bellman on this film?” she asked in the friendliest voice she could muster. She was not, after all, here by choice.
“I am a man of many hats at the moment.” His smile was decidedly less dazzling than usual. It was the first time she’d seen him less than immaculately groomed, if you didn’t count some of the less flattering disguises he’d donned to visit them.
“And assuming you were the person who decided to shoot here instead of Orlando, that would make you what, the location scout?”
Daniel sighed. The hand that had caressed Dustin’s hair ran absently through his own dark curls. “We didn’t really have a choice.”
“What happened?”
His jaw tightened.
“What?”
“We had an agreement with Disney to shoot in the park and around it. We never hid the fact that the screenplay was based on The Exchange. Hell, Grant Fowler, the author, adapted his book for us. It was in all the media.”
“And?”
“And I guess no one at Disney had read the book. Or the CliffsNotes. Or watched him or Tonja or me on a morning talk show.”
“And then?” she prompted.
“And then someone in management got a copy of it for Christmas.”
She stifled a smile
at the outrage in his voice. She could still hear his too-hearty Ho! Ho! Ho! when he’d arrived at Bella Flora dressed as Santa to deliver the Great Dane puppy, now known as Max, without warning on Christmas Eve.
He removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as if fighting off a headache. She was shocked by the dark circles beneath the warm brown eyes that had always been so hard to resist. “On December twenty-sixth we got a call asking why we hadn’t told them that the story revolved around a child abduction at the Magic Kingdom.”
“I take it they didn’t feel good about that.”
“No, they did not feel good. In fact, they freaked out completely. Said there was no way they could ever allow something like that to be shot in the park or sanctioned by them in any way. Not good for the brand, you know.” He turned and looked out over the lake, his expression bleak. “Never mind that we already had a contract and that a good part of our production budget was going to them. Never mind that they’d been begging us to shoot there, desperate to have us in the park, staying in their hotels, eating in their restaurants. We’d already spent a month there prepping, completing casting, hiring crew, building sets for the in-studio work. We were a bigger draw than It’s a Small World.” He snorted. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get that song out of my head.”
“And it never seemed odd to you that they weren’t worried about being tied to this subject matter?” she asked, remembering her own surprise when she’d first learned of the location.
“They’d never said a word.” He shook his head again. “Even when they freaked out about the subject matter I didn’t think they’d go back on our agreement.”
She watched his face as he drew a deep breath then expelled it.
“Then two weeks ago they told us that we couldn’t shoot a single frame anywhere on the property. That we couldn’t use the words ‘Disney World’ or ‘Magic Kingdom’ or anything else that belonged to them. Our lawyers are trying to get some of that money back, but in the meantime we had to find another location to replace Disney, which puts us behind and significantly over budget before we shoot a single scene.”
