Page 92 of Ten Beach Road

“It’s going to be pretty cramped in there,” Avery said, zeroing in on Deirdre. “Maybe you’d be happier at a hotel.”

A small flush spread over Deirdre’s cheeks, but Maddie wasn’t sure if it was one of hurt, anger, or embarrassment. The designer folded her hands on the bar in front of her. “I’ll be fine here,” she said, her tone crisp. “But thank you for your concern.”

They contemplated each other and Maddie was almost glad when Kyra lifted her video camera to her eye to preserve their identical expressions. Maddie wondered, not for the first time, whether Deirdre would succeed in building something with her daughter. She wondered if she’d be able to hold on to what she’d always had with Kyra.

Deirdre looked away first and addressed the group. “With each designer doing a room, it’ll really cut back on our time and expense. Of course there’ll be unexpected things that crop up, but I feel far better now about hitting our Labor Day deadline.”

With the high points hit, the meeting portion of their faux sunset ended. Avery popped the last Cheez Doodle into her mouth and Nicole divvied up the last of the piña coladas. Inside the lounge with its leaded glass casement windows it was somehow both exotic and cozy.

“So,” Avery said after she’d wiped the last of the cheese from her lips. “What did Tonja Kay sound like on the phone?”

“Pissed off,” Maddie said. “And extremely vulgar.”

Kyra snorted her agreement.

“I’ve never heard such foul language.” Maddie shuddered at the memory.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be good when she asked to talk to the ‘whore’s mother,’ ” Kyra admitted.

“And you just handed the phone over?” Nicole asked.

“Well, Mom was standing right there, and I guess I was too stunned to think straight,” Kyra said. Maddie felt her daughter’s gaze on her; Kyra had been more than stunned, she’d been devastated that it wasn’t Daniel on the line.

“But Mom gave it right back to her,” Kyra said. “I didn’t even realize she knew some of those words. I know I’ve never heard her say any of them.”

They all turned to look at her. Maddie shrugged. “She provoked me.” This, of course, was an understatement. The woman’s ugly attack had left her with no recourse but to defend her child.

Nicole considered Madeline and Kyra. “I hope you know how lucky you are, Kyra. Your mother’s one of the most nurturing women I’ve ever met. And she’s definitely got your back.” She looked down at her glass before meeting Maddie’s gaze. “That’s not always the way it works.”

Maddie smiled her thanks to Nikki, and figured Avery would take the opportunity to get a dig in at her own mother, but it was Deirdre who said sadly, “No, it’s not.”

In the silence that followed, Maddie lifted her mostly empty glass. “Well, I propose a toast to Deirdre snagging the design and symphony people! And to how close we are to completion!”

They drank.

“I’m already trying to figure out what I’m going to do with the money from the sale of Bella Flora . . . after we pay off the bills.” Of course there’d be Andrew’s tuition and Kyra’s delivery and whatever the baby would need. Still, Maddie felt almost starry-eyed thinking about not having to pinch every penny.

“I can hardly wait to buy pretty clothes again. Hell, I can hardly wait towearsome,” Nikki said. “Soffes and T-shirts do not count!”

“And I’m going to buy something that I can spend my time designing and remodeling,” Avery said, her glass held high. “I just hope I’ll have enough left over to hire my own grunts instead of being one!”

Kyra filmed all of their toasts and boasts, offering nothing of her own. But Maddie knew what she was holding out for. A healthy baby went without saying, but Maddie didn’t know how likely a happily ever after could be with someone who’d chosen to marry the likes of Tonja Kay.

Sometime during the night the rain finally stopped. Maddie wasn’t sure what woke her. It might have been the abrupt silence. Or maybe all the worries that kept trailing through her mind finally registered, demanding to be dealt with.

She climbed off her mattress and stood, stepping carefully around Kyra’s futon. Her daughter slept on her side, her cheek pillowed in her palm, her long dark hair spilling over one slim shoulder. The sheets were tangled and Maddie bent down to gently smooth the covers around her. She slept deeply, a small smile on her lips. Maddie was glad that her dreams, at least, were happy.

Padding down the stairs, she paused on the landing to stare out the fixed glass. The backyard was pale in the moonlight, the pool house little more than a long rectangle of deeper shadow. Out on the pass, the moon was reflected on the now calm water. Shell Key was a large lump of darkness in the distance.

Downstairs she walked from room to room, listening carefully to the creaks and moans as the house settled in the silence. In the kitchen she sat at the table and reached for the laptop she’d left there. After booting it up and logging onto the Internet, she stared at the screen for a time before clicking on the link to YouTube, where she watched all of the posts so far and had to admit that although all of them had been exposed in ways they never would have chosen, Kyra had also managed to catch not only the personalities of the participants but the tone of their life together and what anyone could see was a growing friendship.

But she hadn’t turned to the computer for a YouTube evaluation. Screwing up her courage, she typed in her password and waited for AOL to come up. Unwilling to continue to place calls to Steve that went unanswered, she’d sent him an email and asked Andrew to make sure his father at least saw it. She’d been putting off looking for a response, afraid there wouldn’t be one. But August was upon them. She needed to know whether it was time to rejoice or to give up hope.

She double clicked on the mail icon and almost closed her eyes, afraid to look. But there was an email from Steve waiting. Holding her breath, she clicked it open, telling herself that whatever it was it was something. And that even if it was from Andrew it would be okay.

The message was short and to the point. It was written in Steve’s usual style with none of the lowercase breeziness that had become so popular. Maddie licked her dry lips as she read,Very sorry I left you holding the bag. You deserve better. Steve.

She reread it far too many times trying to decide exactly what it meant. Was it just a straightforward apology with no promise of change? Did it signal an end or a beginning?

Maddie stared out over the dark backyard and the still water beyond and prayed that it would somehow turn out to be both.

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