Read Ocean Beach Online

Authors: Wendy Wax

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Humorous, #General, #Family Life

Ocean Beach (26 page)

BOOK: Ocean Beach
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No one bothered to argue with this. In fact, by the time Lisa Hogan and her entourage swept in the day before the premiere party, they were all too tired to argue and almost too tired to move. The network head was both younger and more attractive than she’d looked in photographs, with a fall of dark hair and mossy-green eyes that seemed to assess everything in their path with all the warmth of an ice cube. Her comments and decisions shot from her mouth at warp speed, rapid and deadly.

From what Maddie could tell, the woman loved Max, thought the house had potential, and had not yet fully committed to the series or them. To the question of her crew living on-site she said simply, “They’re here twenty-four/seven. Where they sleep is up to you.”

Kyra attempted to avoid her, but Hogan took a look at Dustin then walked right up to Kyra and said into her camera lens, “There will be no secrets or personal agendas.” Then she narrowed her laser beams at Avery. “And no budget overruns.” As if the budget were more than ample and anything they’d spend above it, frivolous.

To Deirdre and Nicole she said, “Let’s sit down with the guest list. I’ll want to meet your potential sponsors.” As to the running of the party she said, “We’ll show Max and Millie performance video on all screens inside and outside the house during cocktails. Then all of you will be introduced via video segments and Max will introduce the pilot, which we’ll cut to live at precisely eight
P.M
.” She scanned
their faces, though it was clear that she did not anticipate questions or objections. “We’ll have a postmortem afterward. I leave first thing the following morning.”

With that, she and her people decamped to the Ritz-Carlton, an expense the network apparently deemed more critical than a workable budget for
Do Over.

Chase Hardin, his father, and his teenage sons arrived later in the afternoon. Avery took Chase and Jeff on a tour of The Millicent, which included everything from the roof to the new breaker box, while Maddie got Josh and Jason settled in the pool-house bedroom they’d be sharing with Andrew.

Nicole had offered to share her room with Kyra and Dustin so that Maddie and Steve could have a room to themselves. Maddie appreciated the gesture, but couldn’t help wondering what sort of reunion this would be given how awkward and infrequent her conversations with her husband had become.

As she made dinner in the pool-house kitchen, enjoying both the convenience and the air-conditioning, she peered out windows and stilled at every new sound even though Steve and Andrew weren’t due until later in the evening. It seemed incomprehensible that she was this anxious about what she’d say to the man to whom she’d been married for a quarter of a century, but that didn’t make the churning in her stomach any less real.

“I’ve never seen you so squirmy,” Nicole said as they sat down to eat at the dining room table, which Deirdre had earmarked for refinishing as soon as the party was over. The windows had all been thrown open without any discernible effect.

“I thought the air-conditioning was going to be up and running,” Kyra said.

“Hendricks promised first thing tomorrow morning so that there’ll be time to cool down the house for the party,” Nicole said. “You should have seen his face when Deirdre escorted him past the sign next to the front steps and showed him the line on the handout and next to the thermostats that read, ‘If you’re cool and comfortable, thank John Hendricks of Hendricks Heat and Air.’”

“I guess the ‘if you’re
not
cool and comfortable’ part was heavily implied,” Chase observed.

“I have fans imprinted with that to hand out just in case,” Deirdre said. “I left them in a box right next to the thermostat where John would be sure to see them.” She laid a napkin in her lap.

“Sometimes subtle just doesn’t cut it,” Jeff Hardin agreed.

Maddie and Deirdre exchanged looks. That had been the theme of today’s hurried mothering tutorial.

“Deirdre and I were talking about that today,” Maddie said with a smile of encouragement aimed at the designer.

“That’s as true in comedy as it is in real life,” Max said. He seemed to be enjoying the stepped-up activity and the additional people in the house. “Sometimes you need that pratfall. Or a well-placed banana peel.”

Maddie passed the antipasto salad she’d made in one direction and the platter of grilled salmon, which she’d marinated in a special mix of ingredients that Mario had suggested, in the other. A loaf of crusty Italian bread followed. With the addition of the Hardins to the table, they were packed tight, but the conversation was lively and the food disappeared
quickly. All the way through the meal Maddie kept one ear cocked and an eye out the window to the drive.

They were sitting over their coffee and dessert when a car drove up.

“I bet that’s Dad and Andrew.” Kyra stood immediately. “Did you hear that, Dustin?” she cooed. “Your grandpa and your uncle are here.” For once, she didn’t race Troy to reach her camera, but lifted the baby out of his high chair and settled him on her hip.

Maddie felt Deirdre’s gaze on her and realized she was still seated. “Are the outside lights on?” she asked as she stood, unable to remember if she’d put them on earlier. Pushing aside a jumble of emotions, Maddie followed Kyra through the kitchen and out the door. Steve and Andrew appeared rumpled from the long drive, but they were here. She hurried out to meet them, reminding herself that Steve had come a long way since last year at this time. He and Andrew had driven all day to get there.

But only because you made him
. No, it was time to focus on the positives and not pick apart the things that Steve had and hadn’t done or said. But even as she hugged them both and brought them inside to join the others and meet Max, she sensed Steve holding himself back. Oh, he smiled and said all the right things, but there was something beneath the words and in his eyes that she couldn’t quite make out. As if he were going through the motions because she’d commanded it, but wasn’t going to give her an ounce more than he had to. As she fetched the plates she’d set aside for them, she had an uncomfortable feeling that dwelling only on the positive during this most important of weekends might prove easier said than done.

“I feel absolutely ridiculous in this outfit,” Avery complained the next afternoon as they dressed for the premiere party. “I feel like I’m wearing a costume. I look like a child who raided her mother’s closet.”

“You used to love to do that when you were little,” Deirdre said with a note of nostalgia that set Avery’s teeth on edge. “I remember one time when you—”

Avery turned from the mirror to confront Deirdre. “I am not interested in walking down your memory lane. Which is, after all, incredibly short.” She sighed at the nasty tone and turned back to consider her image in the still-steamy bathroom-door mirror. At the moment it wasn’t Deirdre she was angry with, but herself. “Almost as short as me.”

The cocktail dress was low cut and halter-necked and the aquamarine satin bodice clung to her, well, everywhere. A spray of sequins had been sewn into the deep V of the neck and splashed around the hem of the chiffon skirt, which swirled around her knees. A pair of dyed-to-match high-heel sandals studded with rhinestones completed the ensemble that had belonged to Millie Golden.

She remained silent as Nicole slicked her hair into a French twist and affixed large drop earrings to her lobes.

“You look like a fifties movie star. From a distance you could even pass for Marilyn,” Deirdre said. Her tone made it clear she was offering the ultimate compliment. She held up a deep red hibiscus blossom. “What do you think of this behind her ear?” she asked Nikki. “It’s almost the same shade as her lipstick.”

“No flowers,” Avery said. “I guess I should be thankful Millie never went for the Carmen Miranda look or you two would be trying to put a banana on my head.” But, of course, it wasn’t her head that she was worried about.

Although grateful that Troy and Anthony had no upstairs access, Avery couldn’t hide from Kyra or her camera. “You look incredible,” Kyra said as she widened her shot to include Deirdre, who was not in costume but seemed intent on “acting” like a mother.

“Stop fussing,” Avery said to Deirdre. The words
where were you when I went to prom and walked down the aisle?
flitted through her mind, but she clamped her mouth shut to keep from saying them.

“Well, you
do
look fabulous,” Nicole said. But then she was the one who’d hidden this outfit of Millie Golden’s away, only bringing it out today when it was time to get dressed and too late for Avery to refuse. Especially since the dress she’d planned to wear had somehow ended up in the dirty-clothes hamper.

“Thanks,” Avery said. But she suspected what she looked like was Dolly Parton squeezed into a designer dress that emphasized the one thing she did
not
want to define her.

From the bedroom window Avery could see the bartender setting up at one corner of the pool deck and could hear the caterer downstairs in the kitchen. The waitstaff moved like a line of ants between The Millicent’s kitchen, which had running water and lots of counter space, and the pool house, where things could be kept warm or reheated. Lights had been strung from deck to deck to create a festive mood. Soon waiters would begin passing hors d’oeuvres.

The air-conditioning was on, thanks primarily to Deirdre’s cajoling and threatening. She seemed equally adept
with the stick and the carrot, but then the woman’s specialty had always been making sure she got what she wanted. It was only a matter of luck, and not love, that what Avery and Deirdre wanted at the moment happened to align.

Avery turned to check herself out one last time, reaching up to retie the halter straps in a vain attempt to lift the V higher. If the others hadn’t been all over her, if she’d had a single lick of privacy, she would have simply taken off the dress and put on something more comfortable and less revealing. But Nikki forced her into a chair to dust off and “set” her makeup. Then she told Avery to close her eyes, and sprayed the shit out of her hair.

Deirdre sent her off with a hug that seemed just as awkward to give as it was to receive.

Avery clung to the wall as she made her way down the stairs in the unfamiliar heels, afraid she’d lose her balance and somersault into the foyer. She loved the stepped wall that opened the stairs to the living room, but at the moment she would have loved a handrail even more. Kyra had moved more quickly and had positioned herself at the edge of the foyer. Troy had staked out a spot closer to the stairs. As usual, they were attempting to ignore each other.

Avery spotted Max moving into the foyer at almost the same time as she heard his gasp of surprise and saw his face go pale. “You look so like Millie,” he said as she hurried down the last few steps to him as best she could. He gazed at her in wonder. His eyes glistened with what she was afraid might be tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Avery began. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea.” She began to turn, almost relieved to have a legitimate excuse to take off the dress. “I’ll go upstairs and change.”

Max’s age-spotted hand wrapped gently around her wrist. He pulled her back around. “No,” he said. “It just surprised me, that’s all. You look…beautiful. And the memories you’re stirring up?” He gave her his biggest smile. “They’re all good ones.”

“Are you sure?” Avery asked. “Because I can…”

“I’m sure.” His hand steadied her, or more likely they steadied each other, as they stood together in the foyer. “It’s the next best thing to having her here.”

He wore a white tux that had probably been the height of sophistication in its day. The black tie was crisply tied and the tux shirt was lined with pearl button covers. Gold cuff links glittered at his wrist.

“She was a lucky woman,” Avery said, reaching out to straighten Max’s bow tie even though it didn’t need it. “You look pretty magnificent yourself.”

“Why, thank you.” Max performed a shallow bow, which both Troy and Kyra captured on video. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if the bar is set up.” He gave her a wink and moved off carefully.

Kyra’s lens followed Max as he left, but Troy’s camera remained on Avery. Avery looked down and she winced at just how much cleavage was exposed. Since the first day, when she’d been surprised in her Daisy Dukes, she’d been very careful not to show more than the occasional patch of skin.

There was movement nearby and she looked up to see Chase walking toward her. A large smile split his face as he crossed the foyer. “Wow,” he said, his eyes glowing. His smile faltered as his gaze dropped lower. He stepped directly between Avery and the camera. “My God,” he said quietly. “It’s physically impossible to look you in the eye in that
dress,” he said as he slid an arm around her shoulders and led her away, his body shielding hers. “And believe me, I’m trying.” His tone was only half joking. “I hate to give Troy a chance at any
Hammer and Nail
–caliber bust shots.”

Avery frowned at the mention of the remodeling show she’d hosted with her now ex-husband and on which most of her close-ups had
not
been of her face.

BOOK: Ocean Beach
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ads

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