by Wendy Wax
Will slipped the phone in his pocket. “I’m giving you the rest of the day off. I promise you all those things can wait until tomorrow.”
“Oh, no,” Lori said. “You can’t do this. I . . .”
“Maddie just drove all the way down here and she’s, well, she was just telling me how beat she is. So, we’re going to take a . . . a nap.”
A nap? She and Lori looked at him with similarly surprised expressions.
He looked down at Maddie and raised one dark eyebrow. Then he nuzzled her head with his chin.
“Ah,” she said. “That’s right.” She feigned a yawn. “I’m really tired from that drive.” She did not meet Lori’s eyes.
“After we rest we’ll probably head over to the Lorelei for sunset,” Will added. “So we’ll see you tomorrow. I hear we’re having egg soufflés for breakfast if you want to get an early start.”
“But there’s so much that we have to do. Aaron specifically asked that you go back into the studio ASAP.”
“And I will. Tomorrow.”
“But this is my job. This is what I get paid to do. I can’t just go take the whole afternoon off. Aaron will . . .”
“For God’s sake, Lori. You’re a millennial. It’s time you start acting like one.”
Lori opened her mouth.
“That’s an order,” Will said.
Lori closed her mouth, nodded.
“We’ll see you in the morning.” He swept Maddie up the stairs without a backward glance.
“We could have at least waited until she left,” Maddie whispered on the upstairs landing.
“No,” he said. “We couldn’t.” He opened the door and pulled her into his bedroom. She felt a wicked flush of lust as he closed the door behind them and dropped her suitcase on the floor. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I’m not sure how in the hell I even waited this long.”
* * *
• • •
Kyra would have given anything to be sharing the sunset that night with her mother and the others at the Sunshine. Would have happily come up with a whole slew of good things if she were still back on Pass-a-Grille with people who cared about her and Dustin, and not about to knock on the front door of the Deranian-Kay lake house.
She knew she’d been standing there too long when Dustin, whose hand she clutched, looked up at her expectantly. “Kin I do the doorbell?”
“Absolutely.” She lifted him up so that he could reach. Not wanting to be caught cowering behind him, she settled him on one hip and attempted to rearrange her lips into something approximating a smile.
Dogs barked. She may have uttered a small prayer as footsteps sounded on the foyer floor. That prayer was answered when Daniel, and not Tonja, opened the door. “There you are! Everybody’s been waiting for you!” he said jovially, reaching for Dustin then flashing her a smile. “I’m assuming you didn’t get lost?”
She flushed slightly at even the inference that she might have been unable to find her way on a single circular road. But letting him think her geographically challenged felt preferable to admitting that she’d wasted a good deal of time pretending she just might not go at all and then agonizing over what to wear. Ultimately, she’d driven as slowly as mechanically possible, resenting each rotation of the tires.
“Is this your house?” Dustin asked.
“It is while we shoot the movie,” he answered easily.
“It’s big!” Dustin said as his father led them into a high-ceilinged great room dominated by a soaring stacked stone fireplace.
“It is,” Daniel agreed, striding across the room and out through the open glass accordion doors to an immense pool deck cantilevered over the lake.
A crowd of adults mingled around the pool, drinks in hand, while children of various ages jumped in and out of it. Hamburgers and hot dogs sizzled on the grill. Iced coolers of soft drinks were arranged so that no one would have to take more than a couple of steps to reach one. The ring of horseshoes hitting their mark echoed from beneath the trees. Through the scrim of leaves she saw what looked like a game of corn hole in progress.
“Corn pole!” Dustin pointed and shouted, his face lighting up. He wiggled to get down.
“Okay, little man. Go get ’em!” Daniel set Dustin on his feet without asking or warning her.
“But . . .”
Daniel turned to her. “He’ll be fine.”
“There’s a pool here and a lake, and I don’t see any fences,” she said. “Plus he doesn’t know anyone.” Okay, maybe that was her fear and not Dustin’s. “You can’t just let him go off on his own.”
“Kyra, there are close to thirty adults here. And almost as many staff between the servers and babysitters and bodyguards. I promise you nothing’s going to happen to him. And I think he’ll have a better time meeting people on his own rather than being taken around and introduced person to person.”
He looked at her closely. “But I’m happy to introduce you around if you’re up for it.” He nodded toward the pool deck where costars Derek Hanson and Christian Sommersby stood talking. His gaze shifted to the shallow end of the pool. “That’s Rodney . . .”
“. . . Stanfield,” Kyra gushed as Daniel pointed to the iconic Director of Photography, whom Kyra had worshipped as a film student and would have given anything to meet. If she’d been here as a working member of the crew and not as the mother of Daniel Deranian’s illegitimate son. “No, not right now.”
“Kyra.” He stepped closer, put a hand on her shoulder. The warm musk of his cologne teased her senses.
“Well, look who’s here.”
The voice was instantly recognizable. Its tone was far more pleasant than it had ever been when directed at Kyra. She looked up to see Tonja Kay moving toward them. Her blond hair gleamed in the last shards of sunlight; her skin shone like polished alabaster in the halter-topped floral sheath that clung to her curves and made Kyra’s sundress look like it was designed for an Amish schoolgirl.
Daniel took his hand off Kyra’s shoulder. Kyra resisted the urge to fall back when Tonja stopped and placed one slim white hand where Daniel’s had been. Her left hand fell on Kyra’s other shoulder as she leaned forward and kissed each of Kyra’s cheeks, looking right into her eyes as she did so. The actress’s long fingers were cool, her lips cold. Her eyes were even icier, putting a lie to her warm smile.
“Now then, that wasn’t so horrible was it?” she murmured in a teasing tone so at odds with the disdain of her gaze it made Kyra’s flesh crawl. “I’ve promised to make you comfortable and I will.” She turned to Daniel. “Will you bring me a drink, darling? Oh, and one for Kyra, too. You would like something, wouldn’t you?” She said this as if to a child. “Jared makes lovely wine spritzers and a grapefruit and vodka that’s incredibly refreshing.”
“Um, yes. Thanks. Either one would be fine.”
Tonja shooed Daniel off to do her bidding like a queen sending off a page.
“I think I should go make sure Dustin’s okay.” Kyra turned, intending to step out from Tonja’s grasp. Tonja’s grip loosened but instead of letting go, she turned along with Kyra and slipped one arm through hers. As if they were best girlfriends.
“Don’t be silly. Dustin’s fine. We’re the ones who have an audience.”
It was only then that Kyra noticed the silence that had fallen. The expectant looks. “They’re waiting for some sort of catfight,” she said.
“Yes, of course.” Tonja continued to smile.
Kyra’s heart pounded. She wanted to slap away Tonja’s arm, find her son, and take him as far away from this place and these people as possible. She straightened. “I didn’t come here to be the entertainment. Maybe Dustin and I should go now.”
“No. No running.” Tonja spoke without moving her lips or altering her smile. Apparently she was not just an actress, but a ventriloquist as well. Kyra tensed, prepa
ring to move.
“No. Please.” Tonja forced the words out around the frozen smile. “We can’t afford any hint of animosity. Here’s Daniel. We’ll have a drink together, all three of us. Then I’m going to walk you around and introduce you.”
This time Daniel kept a professional distance while Kyra sucked down the drink he’d brought. When he left to circulate, she accepted another from a passing waiter. The alcoholic cushion kept the smile on her face and lubricated her conversations, but it wasn’t long before her jaw throbbed from smiling, her head ached from making small talk, and her neck hurt from imitating a bobblehead.
Somehow she survived the scrutiny, met and held the eyes that noted the irony of the situation in ways their words never would, and held her chin high. She sagged in relief when the grill master banged the hanging triangle as if summoning ranch hands and bellowed, “Come and get it!”
“I think we’ve managed to talk to pretty much everyone,” Tonja said, finally letting go of Kyra. “Why don’t you sit and have something to eat?” It was more an order than a suggestion.
“Of course,” Kyra said in the faux friendly tone they’d adopted. “Let me just go find Dustin. I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him.” Though not for lack of trying. “I’m sure he’ll be hungry.”
“Oh, I left instructions for him to be fed with the other children,” she said airily. “I’m sure they’re having a much better time together than they would have with us. They have their own ice cream sundae bar for dessert. After we eat we’ll make sure he meets Rodney and Chris and Derek as well as the First Assistant Director and Costume Coordinator.”
“You did what?” She’d done what had to be done, completed what appeared to be her part of tonight’s bargain, but she’d had more than enough of pretending.
“If he weren’t okay, we’d know about it,” Tonja said. “I promise you no one is holding him against his will.”
Kyra wanted to storm off to find Dustin, wanted to scoop him up and take him back to their cottage and away from the knowing eyes and, no doubt, wagging tongues. Instead she took the seat she was motioned to, accepted a plate that held a cheeseburger, warm German potato salad, and a lettuce leaf topped by large slices of onion and tomato. She’d managed to choke down half of the burger when Daniel stood and clanged a knife against a glass. His wife stepped into place beside him, a gracious smile on her face. “Tonja and I want you to know how happy we are that you are a part of The Exchange. We both loved the book and are very excited about Grant’s screenplay.” He motioned to the author and screenwriter, who nodded his leonine head and raised a hand in acknowledgment. “I look forward to working with all of you both as an actor and, for the first time, a director. I imagine I’m about to find out it’s not as easy as so many of the people who’ve directed me over the years made it look.”
There were smiles and murmurs. As always, Daniel had managed to strike just the right tone. Tonja smiled and raised her glass. Everyone followed suit. “To my husband, Daniel. The love of my life.” She looked directly at Kyra. “Partner in all things. And one of the most talented men I’ve ever known.”
There was a roar of approval. More toasts followed, but all Kyra could think about was escape. When the staff began to clear, she stood, intent on finding Dustin. She’d taken only a few steps when a group of children materialized at the edge of the pool deck. She thought she recognized Daniel and Tonja’s four from the tabloids. Two were dark haired, two blond; although they’d been adopted, they vaguely resembled their famous parents. They stood not far from Dustin, who started running toward her the moment he spotted her.
He was missing one shoe and looked as if he’d been crying. As she swept him up he buried his face in her neck and said, “How come those childrens told me Dandiel is their daddy?”
Oh, God. With barely a nod of good-bye she carried Dustin to the car and buckled him into the car seat. His thumb stole into his mouth, his shoulders drooped. And she knew as she watched him in the rearview mirror that the misery etched on his face was her fault. Because she’d wasted so much time dithering over whether to let him do the film that she’d failed to prepare him in any way.
“I don’t understand how that happens. I tole them that Dandiel is my daddy!”
“Of course he is,” she said, trying to gather her thoughts, wondering far too belatedly how best to explain. “Let’s get you in the bath. We can talk about it then.”
They found Max lying on the living room floor surrounded by goose down, his nose buried inside the sofa pillow from which that down had been liberated. A favorite sneaker lay nearby, riddled with teeth marks. She closed her eyes briefly. Max’s mess was nothing compared to the misery in Dustin’s eyes. Misery she could have prevented.
“So,” she said gently once she’d helped Dustin into the tub and begun to soap up a washcloth. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was playing corn pole with Marcus—he’s five. And when I won he told me I wasn’t so special. That there was lots of basards like me.” He looked up into her eyes and she thought her heart might break. “I don know what a basards is, but it’s bad, isn’t it?”
Kyra could hardly force the words out around the lump in her throat. “No one should ever call someone that.” But clearly someone in his household had, and Kyra’s money was on Tonja.
“Then his big brother told me I’m immegitimate.” Once again it was clear he knew only that this was not a good thing. “He said him and Marksis and Tawny and Sapina are Dandiel’s real childrens. He’s even gots Dandiel’s same name.”
“What else did he say?” She squeezed the washrag tightly in both hands but made no move to use it.
“He told me that their mommy is married to Dandiel and you’re not.”
Kyra’s heart thudded dully in her chest.
He cocked his head and pinned his huge brown eyes on her face. “How come you didn’t marry him?”
This was a good question. Another one she clearly should have been ready for. She ran the washcloth across his shoulders and down his arms as she tried to come up with an explanation. If only there was a washcloth capable of cleaning away his hurt.
“Because daddies can only be married to one person at a time.” She swallowed. “And it’s . . . it’s not my turn.” Had she really just said that?
“When it’s your turn will Dandiel come live with us?”
Her mind raced, searching for the right words as she took the washcloth and soaped it up again. “So, the thing is . . .” Still stalling, she squeezed the washcloth. It was only as she dunked it in the cooling water that she realized that while the whole truth might crush him, a truth might do the opposite. “No matter where we live or how many other children Daniel has, you will always be his son. And he will always love you.”
She watched him take in her words, consider them. He drew an unsteady breath. “But what if he loves them more? Because he lives with them?”
“That’s not the way it works,” she said with a certainty she didn’t feel. “Mommies and daddies love all their children no matter where they live. Just like Geema loves Andrew and me whether we live in the same house with her or not. And don’t forget that he asked you to play his son in his movie.” She closed her eyes briefly, appalled that she’d used the thing she hated as proof.
But even as she silently berated herself, his brow unfurrowed and his eyes brightened. “He did. He aksed me! Dustin Deranium.”
By the time she helped him out of the bath and into his pajamas, he’d been all out of questions and ready to go to sleep. She, on the other hand, had tossed and turned as all the things she should have said and done to protect her son darted through her head. When she’d finally climbed out of bed in the weak morning light, she’d vowed that from this moment forth she would have her son in her line of sight every moment on set, as the Screen Actors Guild rules stipulated for a child his age, and off. She had commit
ted one of the worst sins a mother could; she had ignored her gut. Then she’d compounded that sin by failing to prepare and protect her son. Then she’d allowed Tonja Kay to take control of the situation. Her son had paid the price. The only way that would ever happen again would be over her dead body.
Ten
Maddie pulled the egg soufflés out of the oven early the next morning, grateful that their renovation of Mermaid Point’s kitchen had included the commercial-grade Wolf stove that she’d come to love.
She’d gotten up early to mix enough soufflés to feed everyone who was on the island including the ten men currently transitioning in the Tommy Hightower Sober Living Facility, their two counselors, as well as Will, herself, Hudson Power, and Lori Blair, who would no doubt spend the day chasing after Will trying to convince him to do whatever Aquarian Records thought he should.
“Mmm, God, I love that smell.” Will walked in through the back door, put an arm around her, and nuzzled her neck. He was still damp from his morning laps and smelled faintly of salt water, which was a smell she’d come to love and which was, if she were honest, its own brand of aphrodisiac. No doubt due to how often they’d had sex following his stints in the pool. His dark, gray-peppered hair was slicked off his forehead, and his dark eyes glinted with mischief. “I don’t suppose we’re going to be eating egg soufflés on the road.”
“Well, if we end up anyplace that has a kitchen and you ask real nicely, anything’s possible,” she said. After all, as far as she could tell, her sole function on tour appeared to be to keep Will happy, which was a blush-worthy job description if ever there was one.
“What do you hear from Kyra?” he asked, pinching a grape from a nearby bunch.
“Nothing,” she said as she cut each soufflé into eighths then slid a piece onto each plate that Will held up. A helping of hash brown casserole and a serving of fruit completed the plates.
“Just a text yesterday telling me they made it to Winter Haven. I know they’re supposed to report to the set today, but I have no idea what’s scheduled. Every time I think about them there alone trying to navigate through all the potential minefields it makes me crazy.” Not to mention guilty. As if she’d somehow shirked her duty to her daughter and grandson.
