Best Beach Ever

by Wendy Wax

  “Only . . . I can’t memember the first thing I say.”

  “You will,” Maddie said. “But you only just woke up. Let’s have a juice break and then I can run through them with you. Okay?”

  He nodded, blinking rapidly, clearly trying to hold back tears while she went to pour the juice.

  “Here you go.” Maddie took the papers out of his lap, handed him the sippy cup, then sat down beside him. “Let’s just take a little time to wake up.”

  At his nod she pulled him gently into her lap, his back flush against her chest, her hands clasped around his tummy. Max inserted himself between the sofa and table and rested his muzzle in Dustin’s lap. “There we are,” Maddie whispered. “Everything’s okay. We’re just going to sit here and drink juice and give ourselves plenty of time to wake up.” She rested her chin lightly on top of his soft cap of curls and waited for him to raise the cup to his lips. He took a long, shuddering sip.

  “That’s right,” she soothed. “Everything’s all right. Everything’s okay.” Finally, he settled back against her. His small shoulders drooped. He took another sip.

  “That’s right,” she said softly. “We have all day. There’s no hurry at all.”

  He sucked thirstily and she felt herself begin to sway, humming lightly, instinctively. Max stayed right where he was, but raised his eyes to her face as if wanting to assure himself she knew what she was doing. Hush little baby don’t say a word . . . The words to the song she’d been humming echoed softly in her mind, a song she’d sung his mother and uncle to sleep with a thousand times . . . Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.

  Dustin’s breathing evened out as she hummed and swayed in a rhythm as old as time.

  And she was grateful that she had come.

  With a final look in her direction, Max lay down at her feet. Dustin’s free hand found a loose curl of hair and he began to twirl it around his finger. It went round and round as she hummed and swayed. His hand loosened on the sippy cup. Carefully she removed it and set it on the table. She was still swaying and humming when the last tendrils of tension let go of their hold on his body and he slept.

  * * *

  • • •

  Sunlight slanted through the bedroom blinds hours later when Kyra awoke. The night had been long, filled with fragments of dreams that were both stark and menacing. She sat up in panic, hitting her head on the bottom of the upper bunk. The bedroom was empty. Dustin and Max were gone.

  She threw off the tangle of covers and drew in a sharp breath, inhaling the mingled scents of coffee and egg soufflé, familiar and comforting. Her mother’s cottage. Dustin was not only safe, but most likely fed. Her heartbeat slowed and she roused her phone. When was the last time she’d slept until ten?

  She was considering staying right where she was when last night at Bella Flora came flooding back. Troy Matthews playing host in her home, acting like an adult. Suddenly so different in so many ways that it was almost impossible to take in. And then there were the things he’d said, the feelings he’d shared. She closed her eyes trying to blot it out, but she could still hear the words he’d spoken, the earnest ring in his voice. She had been stunned by his declarations of affection. Her mother had not.

  All thought of going back to sleep vanished, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Max’s head shot up, one ear twitching in her direction when she stomped into the living area.

  “Sorry.” She gave him an apologetic scratch behind the ear then walked over to the coffeepot, which was, like so many things in her mother’s life, half full. A clean mug sat on the counter. The note propped against it read, Soufflé in fridge. We’re on the beach. Come on down.

  Irritation flickered at what she interpreted as her mother’s commanding tone. She didn’t bother with soufflé and would have rejected the coffee completely if she hadn’t needed the caffeine so badly. Filling a large insulated travel mug to the brim, she carried it outside into the postcard-perfect day. Which she took as a personal insult.

  On the beach her mother sat on the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge. Dustin, Avery, Nikki, the twins, and Bitsy sat with her. Every one of them looked far happier than Kyra felt.

  “Good morning.” She threw out a general greeting. Eschewing the empty spot on her mother’s beach towel, she dropped down on a patch of sand and drew her knees to her chest.

  “I’m building a katsle,” Dustin said with a sandy-faced smile.

  “I see that.” Kyra managed to smile back.

  “Abery is helping me.”

  “Yes, it’s always good to have a professional on the job.” She attempted to mask the tightness of her smile by taking a sip of coffee.

  “Did you have something to eat?” her mother asked.

  “I wasn’t hungry. But thanks for the coffee.” She raised her mug in a salute that wasn’t as sincere as it should have been. “And for letting me sleep in.”

  On the gulf, a windsurfer skimmed by. Out past the sandbar a parasailer dangled high up in the bright blue sky. The group gathered on the beach seemed to be having a lovely time. She was the Grinch just waiting to steal someone’s Christmas.

  “Is there something on your mind?” her mother asked.

  Kyra reminded herself that she, too, was a mother. And an adult. She did not want to upset Dustin and she had no right to rain her dissatisfaction with her current life down on these women. Avery appeared intent on the castle wall she was skimming. Nikki seemed occupied wiping wet sand off Sofia’s face and out of Gemma’s mouth. Bitsy leaned back on her hands and turned her face up to the sun.

  Kyra was not fooled. She could practically see their antennae quivering. Homing in on the waves of annoyance she could not seem to hold back. If this had been a honky-tonk, she would be the inebriated good ole boy spoiling for a fight. The best thing she could possibly do right now was keep her mouth closed. Instead she said, “Truthfully, I can’t help wondering how you could let you know who ambush me like that last night.”

  “Who’s whos know you?” Dustin looked up briefly.

  “No one important.” She attempted another smile and hoped it looked more reassuring than it felt. “Just someone who’s always been a big pain in the . . . rear end . . . and who said some ridiculous things that he should have kept to himself.”

  With his question answered, if not understood, Dustin went back to work on his creation.

  “So, he finally declared himself?” Nikki dove in first. “My matchmaking days may be behind me, but he might be a better choice than the player you can’t seem to see for who he is.”

  “It’s about time,” Avery added.

  “Said the woman who told the man who loves her that she’s only interested in having a good time. And then had to watch him having a good time with someone else,” Kyra pounced.

  “You aren’t saying you really had no idea?” Bitsy asked.

  “Said the woman whose husband stole everything she had and disappeared with another woman,” Kyra shot back.

  “Kyra. That’s enough.”

  Kyra flushed at her mother’s admonition. Madeline Singer did not reprimand lightly. “None of us have any control over what you know who feels. And even less control over when and how he chose to reveal it. But the only reason you were surprised is because you’ve refused to see what’s been right in front of you all this time.”

  “So the fact that he’s pretended to be someone and something he wasn’t until now doesn’t bother any of you?” Kyra asked.

  “None of us are exactly how we present ourselves. God knows I learned that the hard way,” Bitsy said.

  “Maybe instead of analyzing me, we should be asking my mother why she left Mermaid Point after a whole four and a half days when she was supposed to stay two weeks before going on tour with Will.” Kyra drew her knees tighter to her chest.

  “Don’t worr
y, we’ll get to that,” Nikki said, pulling a crying child into her lap. “Right now we’re talking about you.”

  “Unbelievable,” Kyra shot back. “After everything he’s said and done to make our lives miserable? You can’t believe he’s serious. Or that his having a thing for me—that was the word he used, by the way—could possibly be a good thing.”

  “He’s serious,” her mother said. “For some reason he’s been reluctant to share his feelings with you.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Nikki said drily.

  “Said the woman who hid her own feelings about the man she loved until after she’d given birth to his children.” Kyra shook her head in frustration. “God, so many pots calling the kettle black!”

  “Did she just call us pots?” Avery looked up from the castle moat she’d been carving.

  “Kyra,” Nikki said, gathering a second crying child into her lap. “We all care about you. That’s the only reason this conversation is happening. We get that you weren’t prepared last night. But maybe you need to consider what was said.”

  “Oh. My. God.” She looked around at the group of them. “This is like some bizarre intervention. I am not a cult member or a drug addict. I am not interested in you know who. And I’m not stupid enough to fall for you know who the first, ever again.” Or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. Right up until he stood too close or gifted her with that smile that made her feel like the most important person in his world. At least in that moment.

  Kyra was on her feet before she realized she was going to stand. A quick look from Dustin made her careful to keep her voice down and her face pleasant. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go up to the cottage and run a load of wash so that I can get our things organized. Then we probably should go ahead and get on the road.”

  With that she turned and strode back up the beach to the Sunshine. Which was when it hit her that she was about to rush back to the one place she most didn’t want to go.

  * * *

  • • •

  Hours before they needed to go back to Winter Haven, the Jeep was loaded and Dustin was buckled into his car seat.

  Maddie handed Kyra the container of cookies she and Dustin had baked while Kyra did unnecessary laundry, packed it, then cleaned the second bathroom to within an inch of its life.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Maddie said. “Neither did the others. However it felt, it wasn’t a planned attack. We all just care about you and want you to be happy.”

  “I get it,” Kyra replied. “I apologize for my behavior.”

  The words were the right ones, but the tone was all wrong. Kyra held herself so stiffly, Maddie was afraid she might break.

  “I hate to see you leave like this. I . . .” Maddie wasn’t sure why she was apologizing. She had not orchestrated Troy’s confession, or set her daughter up for it, though in truth she thought they were far better suited than Kyra seemed willing to consider. “If we can just let go of the whole Troy thing for a minute, there’s something else, something more important that I think you should know about.”

  For the first time that day Kyra looked something other than angry. “What is it?”

  “Dustin had a bit of a meltdown this morning.”

  “A meltdown?”

  “Yes. When he came out to the living room, the first thing he wanted to do was work on his lines.”

  “And?” Kyra asked carefully.

  “He does seem to know them, you know, if you feed him the lines that come before. But he was so afraid that he wouldn’t get them right that he cried.” Maddie swallowed. “He’s wound so tightly right now.” She was careful not to add that his mother was, too. “It’s so important to him to do a good job.”

  “I know.” Kyra’s brown eyes were bleak. “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

  Maddie wished she could hand her daughter a sippy cup of juice and pull her into her lap. “That’s why I organized the playtime on the beach. And why I think it’s important to try to build in as much ‘kid time’ as possible.”

  “I will. God, I hate having to take him back there. I don’t seem to be any more immune to meltdowns than Dustin.”

  Maddie recognized the admission for the apology it was and nodded her agreement. There was no such thing as too old for a meltdown as she herself had demonstrated when she’d bolted from Mermaid Point.

  She stood on the curb long after the Jeep had disappeared from view. Then she pulled her phone out of her pocket and speed-dialed Will’s number.

  The recording said only, “It’s Will. If I’m not answering, I’m either making music or out on the flats. Leave a message. I’ll get back to you.”

  Her message was longer. It included a rambling, stammering apology that she wished she could erase even before she’d finished leaving it.

  Seventeen

  Eyes closed, Nikki offered a silent prayer to the Diet Gods and prepared to step onto the scale. I need a loss here—just enough to keep me going. Give me that and I’ll do better. I’ll eat even less. Exercise more. She thought thin thoughts. Attempted to visualize her body the way it used to be. Apologized for not appreciating it sufficiently. Make it a significant loss and I’ll never overeat again. I’ll become a better person.

  The girls were on the bedroom floor just beyond the bathroom. Sofia treated crawling as if it were an Olympic sport. Gemma preferred to scoot on her behind and had begun to grab onto anything she could use to pull herself up to her feet. A knee, a table leg, her sister’s head.

  Their babbling drifted through the open door. “Daa daaa daaa daaa daaa! Luff Luff . . . Luffeeee . . .” Nikki waited, afraid that was it, then heard, “Maa . . . maaa . . .” At least they hadn’t left her out completely. Why was it that Joe could be gone for weeks at a time and they still called his name first? And Luvie second? Where was the justice in that? How long until they thought Luffie was their mother?

  Stop stalling. Any loss is acceptable. One, two . . . She dropped her robe, held her breath, and stepped onto the scale. Three. She forced her eyes open. Double-checked the number. Did the math. She had lost another whole—wait for it—eight ounces?

  Unbelievable! Even if she “did a McDonald’s” and spun that eight ounces into half a pound, it was still only the equivalent of two quarter-pound patties.

  She stepped off the instrument of torture with an angry exhale and began to yank on her running clothes. She was sick to death of lettuce and its trendy cousin kale. Without dressing and the other things that gave them some semblance of flavor, she might as well go outside and eat a patch of grass. Ha! she thought as she laced up her stupid running shoes. How many calories would that add up to?

  She entered the bedroom in time to see Gemma plop down on her bottom. Her chin wobbled with indignation. A sharp cry of frustration followed.

  “I feel your pain, Gem.” Nikki scooped up her crying daughter then reached down for the other. “Here we go, Sof.” Sofia let out a wail. She did not like to be picked up mid-crawl.

  “Sorry, guys, but if we don’t go now, I won’t go at all.” After all, if she ran off eight more ounces today, she could be down a whole pound and a half tomorrow.

  At the front door she tightened her upper arms and elbows around the girls so that she could get one hand on the doorknob. After a bit of a struggle and realigning her body a couple of times, she managed to turn it and wrestle the door open.

  “Hold on!” One small sticky hand grabbed on to her hair. Another wrapped around her neck as she maneuvered them into the double jogging stroller. She was breathing heavily by the time she strapped them in and got their seat belts buckled. Sunscreen came next. Then the sunhats.

  She ran back inside to grab the backpack with its emergency snacks, toys, diapers, and changes of clothes. After locking the front door, she hung the backpack on the stroller handle then went back in twice; once for juice
boxes, the second time for her cell phone.

  For about ten seconds she considered skipping the run. Better yet, she could stretch out on the grass right here and contemplate its caloric content. But the day was crisp and beautiful, the girls were eyeing her expectantly, and she still had all those ounces to lose. “All right then.” She dragged air into her lungs, set her shoulders, and began to push the stroller down the walkway toward the beach. “Here we go!”

  She made it back to the Sunshine a little over an hour later, out of breath and on jellied legs. The girls were dozing peacefully. Renée Franklin waved her down as she approached the main building. Luvie stood nearby talking with Renée’s sister, Annelise.

  “There are my darlings.” Luvie smiled as the stroller came to a stop. “Did you have a nice run?”

  Careful not to look as winded as she felt, Nikki smiled. “Yes. It’s beautiful out. But I wasn’t expecting you until later this afternoon.” Not that she really needed her even then.

  “I had nothing going on and I thought you might like to have the whole afternoon,” the nanny said. “But I can come back later if you like.”

  Sofia roused at the sound of Luvie’s voice. “Luffeee,” she cooed, reaching out her arms. Gemma woke next, her face automatically crumpling in preparation for tears. Until she spotted Luvie. A smile spread across her face.

  “Ahhh, such sweet girls. Glad to see your Luvie, are you?” She threw the twins kisses. They giggled happily and sent some back. The nanny turned to Renée and Annelise. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to get to care for Sofia and Gemma now that me mum is gone and no longer needs me. It really fills the void.”

  Luvie’s voice rang with gratitude and sincerity. She refused to take money for all the extra hours she spent. And Nikki was supposed to tell her to go away and come back later? “Shall I go ahead and take them back and feed them lunch, then?” Luvie asked. “I believe Renée and Annelise have something they want to show you.”