Ocean Beach (32 page)

“Maddie will start inside at the polishing table,” Avery
continued, referring to the long table that had been set up in place of the dining room suite, which had been sent out for refinishing. Polishing hardware was a tedious but much-coveted assignment because of the seated position in which one could do it and the air-conditioned space in which the task would take place. “That’s her reward for feeding and taking care of us.”

“Max has offered to help too,” Avery concluded. “He had plans today, so I told him we’d put him to work tomorrow. Which means we need to find something for him to do that won’t be too taxing.”

Maddie carried the boxes of hardware into the dining room while the others got to work outside. She found Mario Dante in the foyer patching yet another hole. He greeted her with a smile and an effusive
buongiorno
.

Maddie watched him work for a few moments, impressed anew with his skill and the artful way in which he seamlessly blended the old and new plaster.

“When the wall is repainted, it will be as if this never happened,” he said with pleasure. “It will be almost, but not quite, as
bellissima
—as beautiful—as you.” His smile was broad and his eyes were admiring. The cheerful flattery was a balm to the barbs of disapproval and criticism that Steve had inflicted.

Madeline looked down at the capris and Big Pink T-shirt she wore. She wasn’t exactly “dressed,” but with the amount of video being shot, no one was as careless with their appearance as they had been at Bella Flora. All of them had seen what they looked like on the pilot episode just as Kyra had shot them, long before they’d had any inkling that her footage would be seen by strangers. None of them was eager
to be beamed into homes across the United States looking quite so much like their
real
selves.

“Grazie,”
Maddie said as Mario had taught her.
“Grazie, mille.”
Thank you very much.

“I’ve brought you my recipe for cannoli Siciliani as I promised,” he said, gathering up his bucket and his trowel. “And I’ve put some in the refrigerator in the pool house with your name on it.” His brows lowered. “I have told the boys not to touch without your permission.”

“Thank you, Mario. Really.” He’d been bringing her food and recipes since the day they’d met. “One night I’ll make a complete Mario Dante meal for everyone and you can join us and then you can tell me what you think.”

He considered her carefully, much as he contemplated The Millicent’s walls before he began to work on them. “Better yet, you let Mario make you a Mario Dante meal. I’m ready to do this at any time. It would be my great pleasure to feed you.”

“Um, thank you.
Grazie
.” She returned his smile. He had so much positive energy, it was impossible not to. In almost every respect Mario was the “anti-Steve.”

Deirdre caught only the tail end of Madeline and Mario’s exchange. It was impossible to miss the blush that spread across the other woman’s cheeks.

“You’d better be careful,” Deirdre said. “The man clearly hopes that the way to your heart is through your stomach.” She took a seat at the end of the polishing table and set one of the “House” envelopes in front of her. “The Italian has a crush on you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s just being friendly.” Maddie’s cheeks went scarlet again.

“Well, he hasn’t offered to cook for me,” Deirdre pointed out, amused. “Or Nicole. Or Avery. Or Kyra.” She glanced down at the paper she’d pulled from the envelope then back at Madeline. “I’ve always thought that a man who wants to feed you is a man who will do anything for you.” Unfortunately, this realization had only come to her years after she’d left the man who would have done just that.

Her attention turned briefly to the paper in her hands. “Sorry,” she said, after skimming the information in front of her. “I’m still hoping to find something in Pamela Gentry’s notes and sketches that might lead me to the artist who created the foyer chandelier, but there are a million bits and pieces of information in no particular order.”

She tucked the paper back into the envelope before continuing, “Peter was a good cook, though it doesn’t seem he passed any of that talent on to Avery. I can’t tell you how many times I was out in some fancy L.A. or New York restaurant that I found myself wishing I was sitting over a home-cooked meal with him and our daughter.” Deirdre speared Maddie with a look; after all these years, she was still appalled at all she’d thrown away. “Do you think she’s ever going to forgive me?”

“Well, I think you’ve made great progress,” Maddie said.

“But nowhere near what I was hoping for,” Deirdre said. “One minute I think we’ve reached some sort of place we can move on from, and the next she’s telling me off and making it clear she wants nothing to do with me.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I think I scored a few points for not making a big deal about the damage to the chandelier, but I have no idea what to do next.”

Maddie poured polish on one of the cloths and picked up a doorknob, seeming far more comfortable with this subject
than with being the object of a possible crush. “I don’t know,” she said as she began to apply the polish in a smooth circular motion. “I’m not sure there’s anything specific to do at this point. But I wouldn’t keep giving her things. You don’t want her to think you’re trying to buy back her love.”

“I would if I could,” Deirdre said. “Whatever it cost. Hell, I’d give my life for her.” The words came out in a rush, surprising both of them with their intensity. Deirdre realized as she looked at Maddie that she’d never said, or felt, anything of which she was more certain.

“So now you just have to stay the course,” Maddie said. “The truth is, nothing you say and no number of hotel nights are going to wipe out the fact that you abandoned her. She’s been clinging to the hurt and anger attached to your leaving for so long that it’s bound to take time for her to let go of it.” She smiled gently. “I’m sure there’s a part of her that’s afraid that just when she lets down her defenses, you’ll up and leave again.”

“But I wouldn’t,” Deirdre said. “I won’t. I’d never do that again.” She said this with a calm resolve that she hoped Madeline would recognize.

“Right,” Maddie said. “So you demonstrate that by being here. By being available to her. By continuing to follow through and do what you say you will. No matter what.”

“I was kind of hoping for something more specific,” Deirdre said. “I’d much rather be proactive than just hang around waiting for Avery to see me in some new light.”

Madeline buffed the knob with a cloth and set it aside. “I understand that. But you’re not just hanging around. You’re working on a project that’s important to your daughter. And you’re demonstrating that being with her is more important to you than other things.”

“She thinks I’m only here to get my design career back on track,” Deirdre said.

Maddie reached for a set of hinges. “Are you?”

“No. I’ve actually heard from several of my former celebrity clients asking me to do projects for them. And another network approached my agent about doing a new design series.” She looked Maddie in the eye. It figured this would happen now when she was committed to staying in Miami and trying to repair her relationship with Avery. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it.”

“Well, at least someone has options,” Maddie muttered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Deirdre said. And then, because she’d heard the envy in Maddie’s voice, she added, “At least your daughter shares things with you and wants to be with you. She isn’t always trying to wiggle out of being in your company.”

A few hours later, when Kyra stomped in from yet another altercation with Troy Matthews, Maddie had reason to question Deirdre’s assessment.

“God, he’s insufferable!” Kyra complained. “I never really knew what that word meant before, but I do now.”

“What happened?” Maddie’s back ached from hunching over the hardware; her fingers felt permanently curled. She glanced at her watch. The workmen had left almost an hour ago. It was definitely time to call it a day.

“He’s getting all kinds of tight shots that are completely unnecessary,” Kyra said. “I can tell from the way he’s setting up and how he approaches the shots, but he absolutely refuses to show me his footage. I haven’t seen a single frame since the premiere party.”

Kyra stood directly in front of the air-conditioning vent and shoved her hair back off her forehead. There was a cry from upstairs. “Dustin must be up from his nap,” she said as her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the screen, then looked quickly at Maddie.

“What is it?” Maddie asked.

“Nothing. I just have to take this call.” Her gaze skittered away. But then she looked back with that “I’m completely innocent” look she’d developed at the age of nine and that she’d typically deployed only when she wasn’t. “Would you mind getting Dustin up?”

She looked down at her phone again, but Maddie noticed that Kyra was waiting for her to leave before she answered it.

“Sure.” Maddie headed for the stairs, her mother antennae quivering. By the time she’d brought Dustin back down, Kyra had settled on the sofa with a diaper on her shoulder. Madeline handed him into his mother’s arms, and Kyra gave him a kiss on the top of his head, unhooked the cup of her nursing bra, and settled him in her lap.

Maddie puttered nearby while the baby nursed. When Dustin had delivered a resounding burp, Kyra stood. “I’m going to put him in the stroller and go for a walk,” she said, glancing down at her watch.

“Great,” Maddie said. “I’m dying to stretch my legs. I’ll be ready in a minute. Let me get my wallet.”

“Oh.” Kyra looked at her watch again. “I, um, really want to get going. Dustin’s eager to get out.” They both looked down at the baby, who was so sated from milk he could barely keep his eyes open.

“I’ll be right back,” Maddie said in the tone that she’d mastered right around the time Kyra had first tried out her
“I’m innocent” look. When she came downstairs Kyra had already buckled Dustin into his jogging stroller. She didn’t protest Maddie’s presence but she didn’t welcome it either as she set off for Flamingo Park at a pace that had Maddie breaking into a sweat after just a couple of blocks.

When they reached the park, Kyra didn’t hesitate, but headed straight for the playground. There she scanned the benches until she spotted whatever, or as it turned out whomever, she’d been looking for.

“What’s going on, Kyra?” Madeline asked. But Kyra was smoothing a hand over her hair and adjusting the strap of her tank top.

“Let’s go sit over there,” she said, pointing toward a shaded bench right near the baby swings, where a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks and baggy neon-colored clothing sat.

“Okay, but…” Maddie had barely begun to respond before Kyra had pushed the jogging stroller halfway there.

Once again scurrying to keep up, Madeline could see that the man held an MP3 player in one hand and was swaying and bobbing to an unheard beat. Although he sat in a prime location, the other mothers had given him a wide berth, leaving him alone in the playground equivalent of a no-fly zone.

As they approached the bench, the man stood and stepped forward to greet them, removing one of the earbuds. “Hallo, mon,” he said with the lilt of the islands. “It be good to be sittin’ in de shade today, dat’s fer sure.” He nodded and flashed an instantly recognizable smile, still bobbing to the reggae music that bled out through the earbud in his hand.

Dustin’s chubby hands reached out toward the man in the too-colorful clothes and Maddie’s heart sank. Because despite the dark makeup, Rasta wig, and island clothing, Daniel Deranian was already slipping an arm around Kyra’s shoulder and reaching out to his child.

Nikki chose a pale blue 1960s Gigliola Curiel sleeveless linen dress with decorative curved seams and an Empire waist for her appointment at Parker Amherst’s home on Star Island. It had three knot buttons centered on the scoop-necked bodice and a narrow skirt that ended just above the knee. She’d bought it in the early days when she’d been building Heart, Inc. both for its cut and its pedigree and because she loved the band-collared, three-quarter-sleeved jacket that made it appropriate for everything from a business lunch to a cocktail party.