Ocean Beach (19 page)

“No, Mom,” Kyra said. “I’d like you to stay.” She smoothed a hand down over Dustin’s cap of dark curls to hold him against her. “Wouldn’t you like to know what he’s doing here?”

Kyra turned to the actor. “I’m pretty sure the agreement I signed indicated you didn’t really want anything to do with Dustin.” Her gaze didn’t waver from his. “You have other children. And clearly you’ve had lots of other women before, during and after me. What are you doing here in that getup?”

“Honestly?” he asked, as if he were prepared to answer the question in any number of ways.

“If you have the ability to tell the truth, then yes, that’s what I’d like to hear,” Kyra replied.

Maddie stood stock-still, barely able to breathe, but neither Kyra nor Deranian seemed concerned about her presence. In fact, they were so focused on each other that Maddie suspected they’d already forgotten she was there.

“Okay then.” Deranian dragged a hand through his unruly hair then massaged his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “I’m here because we both happen to be in town at the same time. And…” His voice trailed off and Maddie could see from Kyra’s face that if that was the best he could do, he was about to be shown to the door. Which would mean Maddie could start breathing again.

Kyra settled Dustin on her other hip. “If this is only about geography, I guess we’re done. You’ve seen Dustin.” Her chin jutted out. Maddie could practically feel her holding back tears. “Now you can go back to your wife and your other children.”

But Deranian didn’t leave. He moved closer to Kyra. Gently, he reached out for the baby. “I do have other children,” he said. “And it’s true—you’re not the only woman I’ve gotten pregnant.” He put out a finger and Dustin grasped it with his tiny hand. “But as far as I know, Dustin is my only biological son.”

Maddie placed the head of lettuce on the cutting board and slashed the knife down through it, hacking it into bits. A green pepper met the same fate. It was only when she reached the tomato, which was too soft to be hacked into anything but a messy pulp, that she found enough control to stop her attack on the helpless vegetables.

She’d stood in shocked silence as Kyra absorbed Deranian’s pronouncement, silently cheering when her daughter demanded to know if that meant he would not have wanted to see their child if that child had been a girl. Madeline had slipped out of the room in the middle of Deranian’s earnest assurances that this was not the case. But the man was an actor—a good one. Portraying sincerity and deep feeling were hardly a stretch for him; they were part of his stock-in-trade.

She’d been “assembling” a salad since she’d left Kyra and Deranian and her grandson together in Max’s living room,
hoping that if she kept her hands busy enough she could get the celebrity’s visit and its implications out of her mind.

Deranian stayed for thirty minutes. As soon as he left, Kyra had loaded Dustin into his stroller and taken off to the park. She didn’t invite Madeline to join her or say when they’d be back. Even more telling, she’d left her video camera behind.

From the refrigerator, Maddie pulled mushrooms and onions and minced them within an inch of their lives. If she’d had any confidence that she could breach their current awkwardness, she would have called Steve to discuss Deranian’s reappearance. Instead she kept herself busy. Perhaps when she’d assembled the salad, she’d go up and wipe down the furniture on the deck. Or polish the furniture. She was far too worked up to even consider sitting still.

A car pulled up outside and the kitchen door opened behind her. Deirdre appeared, her arms full of swatches and design books. A sketchbook balanced on top of a large hexagonal tile. She’d tucked the lot of it beneath her chin.

“Good grief,” she said as she deposited everything in a heap on the kitchen table. “I miss my assistant.” She pulled out a tape measure and a yellow pad and began taking and jotting down measurements. A few minutes later she began to pull wood and tile samples and a variety of catalogs from her bag.

“Do you have a minute to look at these?” Deirdre asked after she’d arranged the samples and several catalogs on the counter.

“Sure,” Maddie said, relieved to have something, anything, besides Kyra and Dustin and his movie-star father to think about.

“I’m thinking these cabinets in a sand-colored enamel.”
Deirdre pointed to a photo of a bank of contemporary cabinets with an almost patent-leather-look finish. “And these tiles in shades of blue for a wavelike backsplash.”

“Cool,” Maddie said, meaning it.

“This will go over the sink.” She pointed to a light fixture shaped like a beach ball and suspended on a shiny chrome rod. “And this”—she flipped several pages to a rectangle of chrome with a mass of bubble-shaped lights hanging from it—“will go over the banquette.”

“I love it,” Maddie said.

“And the pièce de résistance…” Deirdre held up two blocks of wood. “High-gloss teak for the countertops, like you’d see on the deck of a boat.”

“Wow,” Maddie said. “The whole nautical thing is perfect for this house. What does Avery think?”

“I don’t know.” Deirdre looked down at the samples and sketches, her tone glum. “I haven’t really had a chance to sit down with her. Frankly, I’m a little worried that she’ll automatically reject it just because it’s my idea.”

Deirdre went to the refrigerator, pulled out an opened bottle of Chardonnay, and without asking poured them each a glass. “Here,” she said. “You look like you need this as much as I do.”

Maddie took a sip of wine, trying to focus on the feel of the cool liquid sliding down her throat. She had to look pretty freaked out if Deirdre noticed anything but her own concerns. Still, she was glad when Deirdre didn’t press for details. She’d thought the threat of Daniel Deranian had been dealt with and resolved when Kyra rejected the “opportunity” to be his mistress, but here he was again. She couldn’t seem to push the picture of the actor sitting next to Kyra and holding their baby out of her mind.

“I think I need another lesson,” Deirdre said, pulling Maddie back to the present. “I don’t feel like I’ve made any inroads with Avery at all.” She took a long drink then pushed the samples away. “I want to do something special for her, but I don’t seem to know what that is. I mean I spent a lot of time finding enough artificial-cheese-snack products to fill a tray and all she said was that Cheez Doodles taste better out of the bag. She won’t even accept a snack from me.”

Deirdre drew in a breath then expelled it. “And this weekend? She wouldn’t even give me the satisfaction of giving her and Chase our room, though Lord knows I think we can all tell they needed one.”

Maddie drained her wineglass and held it out for more. So far the alcohol didn’t seem to be helping, but she was determined to keep trying. She was not a Deirdre Morgan fan, but it seemed that grown daughters made for strange bedfellows.

“You can’t give up after one attempt,” Maddie said. “One Cheez Doodle tray is not going to make up for deserting Avery and her father. The important thing is that you keep trying and that you stay as consistent as possible. Like when they’re teenagers and hormonal and you are the emotional punching bag. You don’t fold up your tent and slink away just because they’re suddenly looking at you like you’re dumber than dirt. You let them know that it’s not okay to treat you that way, but at the same time you don’t withdraw your love or your support.”

Maddie paused, kind of amazed at all the years of stored-up experience pouring out of her. But Deirdre’s look was that of rapt attention. Could she really not know this?

“Your goal is to keep the lines of communication open,” Maddie continued. “Over time they come to understand
that the people they love aren’t going to leave them just because they’re not behaving perfectly. If they’re secure enough in your love, they’ll feel free to treat you like shit. Which is something they can’t do with the rest of the world.”

“She’s already treating me like shit,” Deirdre pointed out. “And you’re telling me I’m aiming for more of that?” Deirdre didn’t look at all happy about this revelation.

“No, that’s not what I meant. But frankly, even when you’ve been there the whole time and done your best to understand, there’s only so much you can do. You can’t live their lives for them. And you can’t force them to see things the way you do.” Maddie realized she was speaking to herself as much as to Deirdre.

“So what do you think I should do next?” Deirdre asked.

“You hang in there. You don’t cut and run. No matter what. Avery has to come to believe that you’re in it for the long haul.”

“That’s it?” Deirdre asked. She cocked her head in question. “Are you sure?”

“Well, it’s not rocket science or brain surgery, though it sometimes feels like it,” Maddie said.

“But what can I give her? I want to do something nice for her.” Deirdre sighed. “Something a little larger than a menu item.”

Maddie looked at Deirdre Morgan. Beneath the perfectly wrapped package was the same morass of uncertainty mothers had felt from the beginning of time. What was too much? What was not enough? Deirdre was not exactly an open book, but her desire to make a good impression on her daughter seemed sincere. “I don’t know,” Maddie admitted. “I’m kind of confused at the moment myself.”

She looked out the kitchen window in an effort to gather her thoughts and saw Kyra pushing the stroller back down the sidewalk toward the house. She had her cell phone up to her ear and was speaking earnestly to someone. Maddie sincerely hoped that someone was not Daniel Deranian.

Madeline turned back to Deirdre. “If Avery and Chase need a room and they won’t take yours, maybe the next time he’s down here, you should get them one of their own.”

“Rise and shine!”

“Oh, no,” Avery groaned. “Not again. What is it with you and morning?”

“You said you wanted to talk to everyone before work started. And I’ve got some things I’d like to bring up too.”

Avery mumbled and covered her eyes. She attempted to bury her head in the pillow, but Deirdre wrested it away.

“Maddie’s already got coffee on. Be grateful we’re only going up on the deck. She wanted to have this meeting out on the beach. At sunrise.”

With a groan Avery sat up, but it took her a while to commit to opening her eyes. When she did she saw that Deirdre was fully dressed in something simple yet sophisticated. Her face was flawlessly made up.

Fifteen minutes later they were on the deck facing east, all present and accounted for. Kyra nursed Dustin and sipped a glass of orange juice that Maddie had carried up for her. The rest of them held their stimulant of choice. Most of them were awake.

They sat for a few minutes in the morning quiet, eyes on the sky that was just beginning to lighten. When she felt sufficiently awake to speak, Avery licked the last bits
of glazed sugar off her fingers and called the meeting, such as it was, to order.

“Hendricks Heat and Air has had to push back installation a little bit, which gives Ted a little longer to get the electrical completed,” she said. “They’re going to start cutting vents and running ductwork as soon as possible, though. Which means they’re going to have to open the ceiling of Max’s closets. I wondered if you might be willing to help him clear them out, Maddie?”

“Sure. I’d be glad to.”

“I can help too,” Nicole offered.

“Good.” Avery checked the item off her list. “Let’s get that done as soon as possible so that we’re ready the minute Hendricks has a crew free.” She looked up from her notes. “How are we coming with a window company?”

“I’ve been playing phone tag with two of the companies on the list you gave me,” Nicole said. “And I know Deirdre’s been following up on the glass block.”

“Good.” Avery sipped her coffee and felt the bonds of sleep starting to loosen. “Once the air-conditioning people are out, we can start removing doors and hardware for refinishing. When the replacement panes I ordered come in, we’ll need someone to handle the reglazing.” She didn’t look directly at Maddie when she said this, but Maddie groaned nonetheless.

“I was doing that in my sleep for months after we finished Bella Flora,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Avery replied. “If someone else with the same kind of patience and attention to detail would like to volunteer, I’m good with that.”