One Good Thing Page 5

  “We are your village,” Kyra added. “Don’t forget it.”

  Steve Singer handed her an envelope. His card read, I promise NOT to wash your baby clothes in any way at any time.

  “Yea, and who knows,” Kyra added helpfully. “Maybe the girls will be able to share that Chanel suit Dad shrunk one day.”

  There was laughter.

  “That was my lucky suit that you destroyed, you know. My very first designer piece.” One of the few she hadn’t been forced to sell off when Malcolm had bankrupted her.

  Nonna Sofia looked at them with piercing eyes. “I think we make our own luck,” she said. “But it’s good to have protection.” She handed Nikki a small box that held two tiny pearl necklaces with delicate gold crosses dangling from them. “And if you’d like to use them, I brought my daughters’ christening gowns. All of my grandchildren and great-grandchildren have been baptized in them.”

  “Thank you,” Nikki said, her eyes once again blurring with tears.

  “We’re so pleased to be here with you and Joe. We’re happy to babysit anytime, too. And we look forward to extending our family through you.” Gabriella smiled. Nikki noticed that she did not say becoming a part of their family, only extending it. “You’ll see our gift soon. This is from Maria and Dom. She said to say it’s for both of you.”

  Nikki opened the gift from Joe’s sister and brother-in-law while Joe looked on. He whistled as she pulled out a black silk negligée cut low and slit on both sides. Nikki couldn’t imagine fitting any part of herself into this. Nikki felt her face go warm. She thought Joe might be blushing, too. The note said, Trust me. One day you’ll actually want him to take this off you.

  “I have something for you, too.” Joe handed her a jewelry-size box and Nikki’s heart began to pound. This was it. The thing she’d refused repeatedly and now realized how much she wanted. She ripped off the paper with fumbling fingers and watched him out of the corner of her eye so that she wouldn’t miss the moment he dropped to one knee. He simply continued to sit there as she extracted the pale blue Tiffany box. She held her breath as she opened it.

  “Oh.” She was careful not to allow a hint of disappointment at her first sight of the gold charm bracelet and the two heart-shaped charms that dangled from it. “It’s beautiful.”

  He smiled. His eyes twinkled briefly, so briefly she thought she must have imagined it. “I wanted you to have this. I figure we can engrave their names later.”

  She swallowed, holding on to her smile.

  “Here,” Avery said. “This is from us.” The box contained two tiny pink hardhats and two onesies decorated with tool belts and pearls. “We thought maybe they could wear them home from the hospital.”

  Nikki felt her smile slip. Once again she felt that vague fissure of fear at tempting fate by envisioning the babies coming home from the hospital without trauma or delay.

  “Thank you.” Tears began to fall. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

  “To both of us,” Joe added. He handed her a Kleenex.

  “Wait, there’s one more gift.” Ray Flamingo stood and handed her a pink ribbon, its end hung over the railing. “This is from me and Avery and Chase and Jeff. Well, actually everybody had a hand in it.”

  “I don’t understand.” She looked to Joe, expecting to see the same confusion she felt, but he was smiling.

  “It leads to something really special.” Joe offered her his hand and gently pulled her to her feet then waited patiently while she straightened.

  She tugged gently on the ribbon. “Is it bigger than a bread box?”

  “Definitely,” Joe said.

  “Come on,” Ray said. “You need to follow it to the gift.”

  Everyone was grinning. Apparently she was the only one not in the know. With Joe’s arm to steady her, they went down the stairs. In a chattering group they huddled around her as she followed the pink ribbon past the pool and dining room and down the concrete path that bisected the property. They wound past brightly painted one- and two-bedroom cottages, which were in fact unfinished shells waiting for owners. The ribbon slid between Nikki’s fingers as they cut between the Happy Crab and the Salty Seahorse to the two-bedroom cottage Joe had purchased for the four of them. It had been his concession to her wanting to stay near the women who had become her closest friends as they figured out what to do about Do Over. Although they were contemporaries, Maddie was the closest thing to a mother figure Nikki had. The pink ribbon was wrapped around the doorknob.

  Nikki looked at Joe. He smiled the smile that turned her knees to mush and her heart to . . . “I know you already own this. So why the ribbon?”

  He shrugged as if he had no idea.

  “Try the knob,” Avery prompted.

  The door was unlocked. Nikki pushed it open. With everyone watching her, she stepped into a fully furnished and decorated home. Ten days ago it had been completely empty.

  “What happened?” she asked as she took in the quartz countertops, double sink, and clean lined cabinets. Though the kitchen itself was small, the brand-new appliances were full-size and high-end. Joe Giraldi would be able to cook here.

  They pressed inside, filling the living area, which now sported a cozy sectional surrounding an amoeba-shaped cocktail table. On the opposite wall a large-screen television hung over a shelving unit that contained a desk. A table and four chairs had been centered beneath the window. Restored terrazzo floors gleamed beneath a multihued area rug.

  The master bedroom contained a queen bed with a padded headboard flanked by simple but elegant nightstands. The closet could never be called big or walk-in, but it had been built out to take advantage of every available inch. The master bath was also small, but beautifully appointed. A French door led out to the walled garden, which included a stone fountain, two chaises, and a profusion of greenery that snaked up the wall and fell back in a spill of flowers. It was a private oasis.

  The second bath was more utilitarian with only one sink and a bathtub/shower combo appliquéd with hot pink flowers. The white wood cabinets were stocked with baby products—everything from powder to shampoo.

  “And now the pièce de résistance.” Ray took her hand and led her into the second bedroom, which was a completely outfitted nursery. Those who could fit followed. The rest watched from the small hallway.

  “I can’t believe this,” Nikki said, barely able to get the words past the emotion that clogged her throat.

  Kyra pointed to the two oval cribs painted in a whitewash finish. “They’re called Gentle Waves and they convert into toddler and youth beds,” Kyra said. “I love the rounded edges.”

  A changing table in the same finish had a quilted fuchsia pad. Newborn diapers, wipes, and items Nikki had never seen before and had no idea what to do with filled its shelves. A low dresser painted in abstract blocks of pink, white, and black sat beneath a framed mirror and free-floating shelves. The closet had been fitted with rods, cubbies, and shelves, and a wardrobe of tiny outfits had been hung and stored inside it. The walls were hand-painted pink and white stripes. A cushioned glider and ottoman covered in a bold floral pattern sat in one corner.

  “What’s that?” Nikki pointed to a tall, almost egg-shaped thing next to the changing table.

  “That’s a Diaper Genie,” Maddie said. “No muss, no odor. Wish they’d been around when Kyra and Andrew were born.”

  “It’s apparently the Cadillac of diaper pails,” Joe said almost proudly.

  “But where . . . how?” She had been dreading making these choices, afraid of tempting fate, and the whole time this had been happening. “I don’t understand.”

  “We just wanted to make sure you and Joe had everything you needed,” Maddie said. “This is from all of us.” She opened her arms to include the people packed into every inch of the cottage. Joe’s parents and grandmother. The Franklins and Annelise. The Har
dins. Maddie, Avery, and Kyra. Even Steve Singer and Troy beamed back at her.

  “Ray selected the furniture and ran the design choices by Joe,” Maddie explained. “Chase and Avery and Jeff built out the kitchen and bathrooms and so on. But we all helped.”

  “I haven’t checked with Guinness, but I think this may be the pinkest place on earth,” Avery observed.

  “If it isn’t, I’ll have to try harder,” Ray Flamingo said.

  “It’s beautiful,” Nikki croaked. She couldn’t quite find her voice, but for the first time she was able to picture herself here with Joe and their babies. She tried to swallow them back, but the tears came of their own accord. An ocean of them gushed down her cheeks. She made no move to stem their tide. She didn’t have the words to name the emotions that flowed through her. Her hand caressed the pink polka-dotted baby blanket in the nearest crib, ran over the whitewashed birch of its beautifully curved frame. Through the blur of tears she tried to focus on the mobiles hanging above the cribs. Each had a combination of stuffed sea creatures interspersed with stuffed pink tools dangling over it. Each was a unique work of art.

  “A friend of mine made those,” Ray said. “I told him we needed something special, something mesmerizing enough to keep the girls occupied.”

  “I helped-ed Ray to hang-ed the bomeels,” Dustin said proudly.

  “You did a great job.” Nikki smiled down at him. “Everything is perfect. I could never have imagined anything half so fabulous.” She smiled and sniffed, trying to stem the flow of tears. “Thank you all so much.”

  Joe’s arm slipped around the place her waist had once been. For the first time she didn’t bemoan its loss.

  A knock sounded on the front door.

  Given that they were packed in so tightly, Chase, who was closest, opened it. It was one of the waitresses. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But there’s a woman here asking for Nicole.”

  “Who is it?” Nikki asked as everyone pressed out of the way as best they could.

  “She said her name is Bitsy Baynard.”

  “Bitsy’s here?” Nikki asked. “Was she invited to the shower?”

  “No,” Maddie said. “The season’s in full swing in Palm Beach, so I assumed she wouldn’t be able to make it. I didn’t want to put her on the spot.”

  “Hmmm,” Nikki said. “I wonder why she’s here.”

  “She didn’t say,” the girl said. “But she has a great big pile of luggage. And she wants to know which cottage belongs to her.”

  Six

  The Sunshine Hotel was not the Ritz. Or the Pierre. Or any one of the five-star hotels at which Bitsy normally stayed. She had sponsored its renovation and what was supposed to have been a new season of Do Over, as a favor to Nikki and Maddie, and because being on a first-name basis with William Hightower and attending a comeback concert deserved payback.

  At the time, $250,000 hadn’t exactly been pocket change, but it hadn’t been a significant amount, either. Certainly not an amount she had ever imagined missing or needing. Women born into the kind of money Bitsy had been born into simply did not end up without funds. And they most certainly didn’t end up homeless.

  Except it seemed they did.

  She stood on the concrete walkway not far from the hotel’s main building with Bertie’s ancient and ill-tempered French bulldog in her arms. She and Sherlock had never particularly warmed to each other. He had been Bertie’s since puppyhood, and the day Bertie moved in with her, Sherlock had taken one look at Bitsy and lifted his leg on her Aubusson carpet. But they had things in common now. Both of them were older than Bertie’s current girlfriend, and both of them had been left behind.

  “Gog!” Dustin said, racing ahead of the group of women who rounded the corner and coming toward her. She watched Nikki, Avery, Maddie, and Kyra’s faces as they approached and was relieved to see only surprise. It seemed the news of Bertie’s desertion and theft hadn’t reached them, but then Palm Beach and St. Pete Beach were worlds—not just two hundred miles—apart.

  “Bitsy! What a nice surprise!” Nikki stepped forward with her arms outstretched. Between Nikki’s stomach, which was immense, and Sherlock, who still clung to Bitsy, they managed little more than an air kiss.

  “If we’d known you were coming to town, I would have made sure you got an invitation to Nikki’s surprise shower,” Maddie said.

  “‘Surprise’ being the operative word,” Nikki said. “I wasn’t exactly dressed or prepared.” She took in the mound of luggage, which held the very last of Bitsy’s possessions.

  Bitsy knew all about being caught unprepared. She smiled. “I’m sorry I missed it. I didn’t know for sure whether I was coming.” Or going, for that matter.

  “It’s great of you to stop by. Where are you headed?” Kyra asked.

  This was a good question. One she wished she knew the answer to. “Oh, you know, wherever the road takes me.” She attempted a casual shrug, but her shoulders were so tight, she wasn’t sure whether they moved or not.

  “How nice.” Nikki looked around. “Is Bertie with you?”

  “No.” She hoped her response hadn’t sounded as curt as it felt. “He’s away on business.” That, of course, would be monkey business. She’d always been grateful to Nikki for bringing her and Bertie together. Now she wondered if her contract with Heart, Inc. had contained a satisfaction clause. Maybe she was due a refund?

  All of their eyes dropped to her luggage. “You look equipped for a world tour,” Avery said.

  If only. A trip around the world would have been the perfect cover as well as a chance to lick her wounds and get her head back on straight, but she’d barely had enough money to make it here in the Land Rover that their former cook had used to run errands. “I just needed to get away on my own for a bit. I thought maybe I’d stay here for a while to unwind and have some ‘girl time.’”

  There was a shocked silence. Hoping to head off further questions, she went on the offensive. “When I was here for the grand opening, it was my understanding that a finished-out two-bedroom went for around two hundred thousand, maybe more depending on upgrades. Since I contributed two hundred and fifty thousand, which I haven’t been paid back, I thought I’d just go ahead and take the unit.” So that even if she’d been forced to lower her standards, she would not, in fact, be homeless.

  Sherlock whimpered in her arms and she set him down. He splayed his back legs and buried his chin between his front paws, exhausted and dejected. She fought off the urge to do the same.

  “The only two-bedroom besides Joe and Nikki’s that’s finished out is the model,” Avery replied. “The Franklin Realty people are using it to sell from.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “But . . .” Avery protested.

  “How long would it take you to finish out my unit?” Bitsy asked.

  “I don’t know. You never mentioned wanting one,” Avery said. “Our agreement was that you would front the money and we’d pay you back with interest.”

  “Well, I suppose I could take the money if you prefer, but . . .” But what could she possibly buy for that even on this coast?

  “We don’t actually have the money,” Nikki admitted. “The units that will be completed first are group time-shares that need to be available the weeks they’re spoken for.”

  Bitsy remained silent. It was important not to appear desperate. But she needed a roof over her head, even a small temporary one. She tried not to blanch as the recollection of her home growing ever smaller in the Land Rover’s rearview mirror rose in her mind. It had been empty and padlocked. The bank’s For Sale sign posted on the gates.

  “You know the Sunshine Hotel and Beach Club belongs to Renée and Annelise,” Maddie said. “The Beach Club is operational, but it takes time to get enough time-share owners to pay for a finished cottage. Everything’s moved far more slowly than expected.”


  “I understand,” Bitsy said pleasantly. “And I don’t mind staying in the model until you finish my unit. If the Franklins need to show it, I’m okay with that.” She smiled carefully, keeping her tone light. “Now. Is there a bellman?”

  “Afraid not,” Avery said. “Things are pretty casual here.”

  Maddie shot her a look. “But we do have some extra muscle stashed at Joe and Nikki’s place. Kyra, can you go ask the guys to come help?”

  When the men arrived, everyone chattered and acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but Joe looked at Bitsy and her possessions far more closely than she would have liked, and she caught Avery and Chase with their heads together and their eyes on her. Her suitcases, which bulged with things she’d probably never have reason to wear again, filled the model’s second bedroom and spilled out into the tiny living area, which could give a phone booth a run for its money.

  “Why don’t you come have drinks and dinner with us?” Maddie asked at the cottage door. “You can come straight down Pass-a-Grille Way.” Maddie didn’t give her the chance to refuse. “Good. We’ll expect you at six. You’ll want to bring a sweater or jacket. The temperature drops when the sun goes down.”

  Bitsy stood in the tiny doorway of her new home and watched them leave. Sherlock nudged her leg with his nose and let out an anguished snuffle as if he couldn’t quite believe the fate that had befallen them. “No shit, Sherlock,” she said as she closed the cottage door. “Bertie has a hell of a lot to answer for. But at least we have a roof over our heads.”

  • • •

  “You don’t mind if I stay on for a while?” Avery hugged Jeff good-bye and waited while Chase helped his dad into the passenger seat, folded his wheelchair, and placed it in the trunk.

  “Naw. I’d stay, too, except Dad’s pretty tuckered out and I know he hated having to be carried up and down the roof deck stairs, even if he won’t admit it. We really need to find a way to add an elevator.” He turned to face her. “And I hate to leave the boys alone too long.” His shoulders slumped. Avery knew that by “boys,” he meant Jason, who’d started rebelling and acting out within what seemed like minutes of turning sixteen.