One Good Thing Read online

  “All I said was that you shouldn’t give up,” Troy said to Kyra.

  “That’s easy for you to say since it’s not your program or your money at stake,” she fired back. Her voice broke on the word “money.”

  “What? Afraid your boyfriend will actually expect you to repay his loan?” Troy taunted. “I’m sure there are things he’d take in lieu of cash.”

  Kyra’s face flushed, but anger was only one of the emotions that flamed her cheeks. Maddie was shocked to see fear and what looked like guilt flare in her daughter’s eyes.

  “That’s enough, Troy,” Maddie admonished the cameraman. “More than enough.” She nodded to the child-size Bella Flora in which Dustin was playing.

  “Oh, it’s easy for him to criticize,” Kyra said. “He never commits to anything all the way or puts anything important at risk.”

  Maddie was watching Troy’s face when Kyra aimed this last accusation at him and she saw his eyes close briefly as the blow hit. But within seconds he’d gone back on the offensive.

  Maddie closed her own eyes, hoping for a reprieve. When she opened them again, the two were still arguing.

  Avery stopped pacing long enough to weigh in. “I still can’t believe we have no recourse with the network. Or that all that money was wasted. I wouldn’t mind suing Forsyth, Fallon, and Montmart for nonperformance.”

  “Sure, why not? Kyra can just ask the bank of Deranian to front her another million or so,” Troy bit out.

  “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Kyra retorted. “As usual.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, why don’t you enlighten me?” Troy shot back.

  Maddie expected Kyra to get in Troy’s face, but instead she turned her back on him.

  “We’d be a lot better off figuring out our next move instead of arguing,” Avery said. “And from what I can see, our next move needs to be figuring out how to get back what Kyra and the rest of us put into the Sunshine renovation and video production.”

  “Yes,” Kyra said. “There’s too much at stake to just sit around and hope for the best.”

  Maddie felt a prickle of discomfort at the tremor in Kyra’s voice, but her daughter did not elucidate.

  “Well, as far as I can see, our only real path to raising that money is to see the Sunshine cottages sell and the beach club a success,” Avery said. “What I don’t know is how we help make that happen.” She paced out to the seawall then back to the loggia, collapsing in a chair next to Maddie. “Everything’s such a mess. Unless units sell, we have no income and nothing to renovate. And I feel so torn about everything. When I’m here, I feel like I should be in Tampa. When I’m in Tampa, I feel like I’m constantly trying to keep Chase and Jason from knocking each other’s blocks off. Not that either of them ever listen to me.” A shadow passed over her face, but Maddie knew from experience that there was no use trying to pry anything out of Avery. “And watching Jeff become so dependent?” Avery blew a blond bang off her forehead. “I’d give anything to have Deirdre back criticizing my clothing and food choices. She’d know how to handle Jeff and Chase and probably even Jason.”

  Nikki came outside and sank clumsily into the chair opposite Maddie. Though she and Joe often dined with his family and she slept at the Sunshine cottage with Joe each night—or didn’t sleep if the dark smudges under her eyes were any indication—she spent her days at Bella Flora, napping in her old room and dragging herself ever more tentatively from seat to seat.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Maddie asked her now.

  Nikki shook her head.

  Maddie chose to take this as a yes. When she returned with a tall glass of juice, Nikki was watching Dustin with a faraway look in her eye. “Here. Drink up,” Maddie said quietly.

  “But then I’ll have to pee again. I’ve been to the bathroom about sixty times so far today.”

  “That seems unlikely,” Avery said.

  “No seriously, I’ve been counting.” Nikki held up her phone so Maddie could see the times noted on her screen.

  “When do you see the doctor next?” Maddie asked.

  “Wednesday afternoon. Joe wanted me to see if I could get in sooner, but honestly, I don’t see what difference a day or two would make.”

  “Dustin pee too!” He hurried over to Maddie and grabbed her hand. “Wanna go batroom, Geema!”

  She hurried inside with him and stood in the bathroom doorway while he took care of business. He was beaming happily as he wiggled his pull-up back on. “I’m a big boy, Geema!”

  “Yes, you are.” He stepped up on the stool and she helped him wash his hands in the sink. He’d taken to potty training with an unexpected enthusiasm. Unlike his Uncle Andrew, whose passage out of diapers had been fraught with anxiety and the occasional pitched battle. But then her grandson had one of the sunniest personalities she’d encountered. If only he’d rub off on the grown-ups around him, she thought, when they went outside to find Kyra and Troy arguing about what shade of blue the sky was.

  “What do you say, Mom?” Kyra challenged. “Would you call it sapphire or robin’s egg?”

  “I say you’ve got to be kidding,” Nikki said. “I’ve heard some stupid arguments in my day, but the sky? There are people here who need to get a life.”

  “Agreed,” Maddie said. “We’ve got way more stuff worth worrying about than that.” And no one, including her, likely to broker any kind of agreement at the moment. Her phone rang and she glanced down hoping it would be Will. When she’d called that morning, Lori “with an i” had answered and had promised that she would let Will know, but warned that his only window between practice and his afternoon swim would be at 3:15 P.M. At the moment it was 2:45.

  Caller ID indicated that it was Steve. “Arguments are us,” she answered, attempting to hide her disappointment. Steve said only, “Can you call Bitsy and let her know that we have to have an emergency showing?”

  “You’re going to have to explain that one,” she replied. turning her back on Kyra and Troy, who’d moved from arguing about sky color back to Do Over and the attorneys’ edict. “I’ve never really thought of real estate in life-and-death terms.”

  “Well, this is one of those times. At least if we want a shot at selling the Hirsches a two-bedroom. They’ve had to cut their vacation short and are heading back to Detroit tonight. I convinced them to stop by to see the unit on their way to the airport.”

  She was too glad to see Steve so motivated to protest. Plus, as Avery had pointed out, selling the units was their only unobstructed path to recouping the money they’d put into the renovation.

  “We only have two hours to get Bitsy and her things out of the model and erase all sign of her presence,” Steve said in a rush. “And we have someone else coming tomorrow. She’s going to have to be out at least through the weekend. After you break the news to her, can you ask Troy to meet me there to help move her things? And bring whatever cleaning supplies we might need to spruce up the unit?”

  “We’ll all come,” she said, staring at the warring, pacing, sighing crew currently spewing their unhappiness all over Bella Flora. “We all need something positive to do. Even if scrubbing is involved.”

  • • •

  “I thought you were joking when you called this an emergency.” Bitsy stood near the path holding Sherlock in her arms as Maddie, Avery, Kyra, Dustin, Troy, and Nikki climbed out of the minivan and began to unload cleaning supplies.

  “Afraid not,” Maddie said, picking up a box packed with cleaning rags, a feather duster, and an assortment of spray bottles. Kyra carried a mop and bucket, Avery had the vacuum. Dustin wore a large pair of rubber gloves that reached all the way up both arms. “But I did bring a cleaning crew and some muscle with me.” She nodded at Troy, who flexed pretty impressive biceps as Steve’s car screeched to a stop behind the van. He jumped out steely eyed and determined as if there
were, in fact, a fire or some other disaster to be dealt with. Maddie helped Nikki out of the van. “Remember, you’re just here to supervise and keep Bitsy company. No lifting or carrying.”

  They made their way to the cottage, where Bitsy unlocked the door. They followed her in and came to a stop, frozen in shock. Troy whistled in amazement. Maddie was still trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Bitsy’s open suitcases lay everywhere. Articles of clothing had been strewn across the furniture. A negligée hung over one door. Dirty dishes teetered in the sink and covered the small counter. The trash can lid stood open, supported by the mountain of garbage inside it.

  “I don’t understand,” Maddie said. “What happened here?”

  Even Steve, who had left many a room looking as if a bomb had gone off in it, appeared shocked. And worried. He glanced down at his watch.

  “I kept waiting for maid service,” Bitsy explained. “It was bad enough that no one ever came to turn down the bed at night, or bring the room service I ordered. But no one ever came to clean or make the bed, either.”

  “I don’t know who you were calling. There is no room or maid service here,” Nikki said as she shoved a heap of clothing to one side so that she could lower herself onto the sofa. “Unless you contract for it on your own, this is a do-it-yourself kind of operation.”

  “Oh.” Genuine shock etched itself onto Bitsy’s face.

  “In fact, this apartment has a washer and dryer.” Maddie opened the bifold door to reveal the shiny apartment-size units. “It’s quite convenient.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize,” Bitsy said. “I’ve never seen them so small. Or sitting on top of each other like that. I thought they had something to do with the air-conditioning.”

  Kyra opened her mouth but seemed to think better of it. Sherlock buried his nose in Bitsy’s armpit with a small whimper of what sounded like embarrassment. Steve cleared his throat and pointed to his watch. He gave Maddie a pleading look.

  “So we’re going to move you into the one-bedroom model for the weekend,” Maddie explained. “But there’s probably only room for about a quarter of this . . . your . . . things. So you need to choose only the items you really need as quickly as possible. We’ll store the rest in one of the empty cottages.”

  “But . . .” Bitsy looked completely lost. Sherlock let out a snuffle.

  “Nikki?” Maddie looked to Nicole.

  “Right.” Nikki began to work her way to her feet. “Why don’t I help you make the choices, Bitsy? Then I can help you get settled while this apartment is cleaned.”

  Nikki huffed and puffed a bit, but she took the still bewildered Bitsy in hand. Inside of thirty minutes everything had been fit back into a suitcase or carryall then placed in a “move” or “store” pile with none of the mimed whip cracking that Ray Flamingo had imposed during the renovation.

  Maddie mouthed a thank-you to Nikki as she reached out a hand to help Nikki up from her latest seat at the dinette table. She watched Nikki put an arm around Bitsy’s shoulders.

  “Come on, we’ll go get you settled,” Nikki said, falling in behind Steve and Troy and Bitsy’s luggage. “Then maybe we can go sit out by the pool. I’ll treat you to an ice cream sandwich.”

  Thirteen

  For the first time in recent memory, Daniel Deranian arrived at Bella Flora as himself. Without costume, makeup, wig, or prop, he pulled into the bricked drive in a sleek black convertible with glove leather interior, walked through the garden, up the steps, and onto the front colonnade to ring the doorbell like any everyday movie heartthrob might.

  It took Kyra, who pulled open the front door, a moment to register what she was seeing. Dustin needed less than a second to race into his father’s arms. “Is my Dandiel!” he shouted as his face split into a smile. “Dandiel comed to see me!”

  Daniel scooped up Dustin and swung him around amid shouts of glee. Dustin was used to his father appearing and disappearing without warning and had not begun to question why it worked this way. His excitement was total and unfeigned while she expended a great deal of energy attempting to hide her excitement when he arrived as well as her disappointment when he left.

  “I didn’t realize you were in town,” she said carefully.

  “I wasn’t. I just flew in. It’s been way too long since I had time with the man here.” He rubbed noses with Dustin and switched him easily to one hip. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “We were just heading down to the beach, but we can . . .” Kyra began.

  Dustin put one hand on each of Daniel’s cheeks and leaned toward him so they were face-to-face. “Wanna build a catsel?” he asked hopefully.

  “Absolutely. I was hoping you’d ask. I’ve even got my bathing suit on just in case.” He winked at Dustin.

  “Me, too!” Dustin crowed.

  Their faces, so similar, wore almost identical expressions of joy.

  “Great.” She stepped away as if a foot or two might help her resist his pull when even being on the same planet made him impossible to ignore. Daniel was the magnet. She was the hapless paperclip unable to keep her distance.

  “You two go ahead,” she said. “I have some things to take care of.”

  “No way.” Daniel reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips. The tickle of warm breath sent goose bumps shooting up her arm. “Not a chance.”

  “No way! No shanste!” Dustin imitated his father’s pronouncement in a childish timbre that would one day carry Daniel’s resonance. The dark eyes, golden skin, and curly hair coupled with the wide smile were all Deranian. No one with two eyes could have ever argued that Dustin was not Daniel’s son.

  “Let me grab the sunscreen and some cold drinks. Dustin, go get your sand tools together. Your dad can help you.” She headed for the kitchen, very glad that no one was there to witness the lightness in her step or the smile that she could feel teasing at her lips.

  Their voices carried through the open windows along with the late morning breeze. She caught her smile growing as Dustin instructed Daniel as to which building toys he wanted to bring and why, then described exactly what kind of “catsle” he expected to build. He chattered excitedly all the way down the path past the jetty and chose a spot close, but not too close, to the water’s edge on which to build.

  When they were seated and Dustin and Daniel had begun to dig into the damp sand, Kyra slid her sunglasses on and watched surreptitiously from behind their dark lenses.

  “So you’re going to direct,” she said when he sat back to eye the moat that Dustin had begun carving around the castle’s foundation.

  “Yes.” Satisfaction laced the word and etched itself on his face. “I finally found and secured the right screenplay. I fell in love with it the moment I started reading it. It’s the perfect vehicle.”

  “That’s great. And it looks like the studio wants to make sure to keep you happy.” She picked up a handful of wet sand and watched the coquinas left behind burrow their way back into the ground. “They’re even letting you and Tonja work together.” She tried not to sound bitter as she uttered his wife’s name and imagined the headlines.

  She noted the tic in Daniel’s cheek, and the way he didn’t quite meet her eye, as she forced herself to imagine how intimate it would all be. “It won’t be easy directing yourself, your cast, and your wife.” She left out the adjectives “nasty,” “vindictive,” and “foul-mouthed,” which normally preceded Tonja’s name in her mind. Daniel already knew these things about the woman he was married to, cheated on, and refused to leave. Kyra didn’t know if his loyalty was to her, their children, or their careers and wasn’t sure if Daniel did, either. “Do you think it will go all right?”

  He shrugged casually as if the outcome didn’t really matter, and she reminded herself for what might be the millionth time, just how good an actor he was. “I guess I’m about to find that out.”

&nbs
p; Kyra leaned back on her hands and turned her face up to the warmish winter sun while Dustin and his father drizzled dribs of wet sand over the turrets and walls. When Dustin caught him with an unexpected glob of sand, Daniel hefted Dustin up, slung him over his shoulder, and carried him giggling into the Gulf, where he tossed him in the air and occasionally dropped him into the water, much to Dustin’s delight.

  “Quite a happy little picture, isn’t it?” Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, Troy Matthews dropped down on the sand next to Kyra.

  “You’re talking to the wrong person if you think I’m going to be irritated that Dustin’s father wants to spend time with him.”

  Troy snorted. “I’m sure if you cozy up to him, he’ll make room for you on the set. Though I guess that could get a little tricky with his wife and children there and all.” He watched her face for a reaction. “Did he happen to mention that he was only allowed to direct if Tonja played opposite him?”

  Surprised as he’d obviously hoped, she said nothing.

  “Yeah, apparently they figured out that even if he did a shitty job as a director, people would still come to see them on-screen together. And of course, they can trot their kids out for the publicity machine and make it look like they’re just one big happy family.”

  “I’m sure he won’t be doing a shitty job,” she shot back. “Whatever you choose to think, he’s very talented.” Once again Troy had forced her to defend Daniel, a fact that only infuriated her further.

  “Oh, he’s talented all right.”

  She heard the dry tone, and was even vaguely aware that Troy was still speaking. But her eyes were on Daniel as he emerged from the water, his trunks clinging to his slim hips and lightly muscled thighs. He held Dustin beneath one arm like a squirming football while water sluiced down his chiseled torso, trickled through his chest hair. She didn’t even try to look away. It was possible that she sighed.