Page 35 of Ten Beach Road

The next thing Nicole knew they were in the parking lot heading toward the minivan. She felt vaguely grateful to Madeline for getting her out of there before she hurt Horace or humiliated herself completely. She was even more grateful that Madeline didn’t crack a smile.

Madeline fought back the smile as she helped Nicole into the van and tossed the groceries in the back.

On Pasadena Avenue Nicole stared mutely out the window, her face arranged in the oddest expression. She didn’t say a word when Madeline’s cell phone rang.

Madeline pulled her cell phone out of her purse. Caller ID simply said Home.

“Hello,” she said as Nicole continued to stare out the window.

“Mom?” Kyra sounded closer to three than twenty-three. There was a pronounced quiver in her voice. Madeline’s heart did the flip-flop it always did when one of her children was in distress.

“What is it, Kyra?” Madeline asked. “Are you all right?”

Nicole turned at that, pulled momentarily from her misery.

“Daniel’s publicist called me today,” Kyra said.

“His publicist?” Stopped at a red light, Madeline watched an old man in madras shorts and navy blue ankle socks hobble across the street.

Kyra sniffed. “He called to tell me that if I heard from the media in any way that I wasn’t supposed to say anything but ‘no comment’; that I was just an assistant on the movie Daniel’s making and that we only knew each other to say hello on set.”

The car behind Madeline honked. She accelerated slowly, surprised to see that a motorized wheelchair on the sidewalk was moving faster than the cars in front of her. “Why would anyone be calling you, Kyra? I thought you said no one knew”—she glanced over at Nicole, who had her head back against the headrest and her eyes closed, but who seemed to be listening—“anything.”

“Because Tonja did some interview withPeoplemagazine and said that there are always rumors about infidelity on movie sets, sometimes even between big stars and unimportant gofers, but that she and Daniel were in it for the long haul.” There was another loud sniff. “And that they were thinking about going to Haiti to adopt a couple of those poor, parentless children.”

Madeline drove over the Corey Causeway and turned onto Gulf Boulevard. Nicole’s eyes stayed closed.

“And what does ‘D’ say about that?”

Kyra’s voice got wobblier and more pitiful. “I don’t know. He hasn’t called me. I don’t really understand why.”

“Awww, honey,” Madeline said. “I’m sure . . .” She stopped, not actually sure of anything, least of all whether a megastar like Daniel Deranian might actually feel anything other than lust for a young girl like Kyra.

“And I can’t take it here another minute, Mom. Daddy just lies on the couch all day and lets Grandma take care of him. It’s awful. How long are you going to be gone?”

Madeline drove down Gulf Boulevard, staying in the right lane so she could enjoy the flashes of beach between hotels, comforted by the sway of the palms and the slower pace with which everything, including traffic, seemed to move.

“It looks like I could be here most of the summer, Ky. We’re trying to finish the renovation by Labor Day so that we can put it up for sale right afterward.”

Kyra didn’t speak, but Madeline could feel her misery reaching out though the airwaves. She didn’t know if there was any long-term solution other than to hunker down and do what needed to be done, but she couldn’t break this connection with her daughter without offering . . . something.

Nicole’s eyes fluttered open and she turned her gaze out the passenger window; Madeline had the sense she was trying to give her privacy, but it wasn’t like she could leave the car. Or stop listening. Avery’s suggestion about making a video of the house came to mind and Madeline said, “Why don’t you come down here and help us, Kyra? It’s beautiful and quiet. You could kind of regroup and figure out how to proceed.” Just like Madeline, who felt as if she’d run away from home. “Avery asked if you’d shoot some ‘before’ video for us anyway.”

“Who’s Avery?”

“One of the other owners. She’s half of the on-camera team on an HGTV show calledHammer and Nail.”

“The one Grandma watches all the time?”

“That’s the one,” Madeline said. “She’s really nice. And Nicole, our other partner, is . . .” She looked up as Nicole stopped pretending she wasn’t listening in. Their eyes met. “Nicole is interesting. She’s a professional matchmaker, but just a wee bit touchy about her age.”

Nicole returned her gaze out the window, but a small smile hovered on her lips. Madeline smiled, too, as she thought about the dynamics at Camp Bella Flora.

“If you don’t mind a mattress on the floor, there’s plenty of room.”

“But what would I do there?” Kyra asked.

“I don’t know, Kyra.” Madeline didn’t have the energy to expend on persuasion. “What are you doing there?”

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