The House on Mermaid Point

Chapter Twenty-four

Maddie stood on the deck of the houseboat the next morning watching the pink of sunrise fold into the pale blue morning sky. The island rooster and his harem pecked at the ground, which was still damp from the previous night’s thunderstorm, while a flock of gulls dive-bombed the now calm waters off Mermaid Point for breakfast. Long-legged wading birds stood in the tidal pool, the morning breeze teasing their feathers. She wondered how Will was faring and why he’d stayed away so long, and she looked forward to Deirdre and Nicole’s return after what they’d pronounced to be a resoundingly successful sales trip.

Roberto’s boat was still shuttered and the network crew’s boat, now also moored to the retaining wall, was equally silent. Stepping off the deck, she stood on the small crescent of beach and contemplated the swimming pool, which seemed empty without William Hightower’s strong-armed crawl slicing through it. The whole island, inside and out, felt vacant without him.

She was sitting in the Adirondack chair at the edge of the sand when Kyra joined her, a still-sleepy Dustin cradled in her arms, her video camera slung over one shoulder. Kyra deposited Dustin gently on the sand along with his pail and shovel and a sippy cup of juice then plopped down in the second Adirondack.

“It all looks so sparkly clean after the rain.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Maddie dug her bare toes into the damp sand. Dustin drank his juice in one long, thirsty gulp then began to dig. “It’s so incredibly peaceful here.”

The faint sound of traffic behind them on U.S. 1 reached their ears. At the sound of each boat motor Maddie stilled slightly, assessing it for any hint of familiarity, waiting to see if any of the boats steaming toward Alligator Reef would slow and head toward Mermaid Point instead. She was relieved that it was too early for the paparazzi, even Nigel Bracken, who’d proven to be the most persistent of the pack. But each boat that wasn’t William Hightower returning, after five days away, was a disappointment she was having a hard time keeping to herself.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Video camera in her hands, Kyra panned slowly from the main house, across the beach, to the boats in the channel.

“What?”

Kyra gave her the look she’d used as a teenager; the one that had always warned Maddie not to underestimate her. “Wild Will. He’ll be back. And it might be better if you weren’t sitting around mooning over him when he gets here.”

“Me? Mooning?” Maddie attempted a careless laugh that she didn’t quite pull off.

“Mom. Face it. You’ve got a crush on the guy.”

“Kyra, he’s an icon. Every woman my age has a crush on him. It doesn’t mean—”

Kyra cut her off without so much as an acknowledgment of her protest. “And you’re hopelessly out of practice. Whatever skills you might have once possessed are rusted out. And frankly, if you’re going to freeze at the sound of every boat motor, well . . . I’d keep those sunglasses on. You don’t want someone who’s used to getting anyone he wants to see just how interested you are.”

A small, desperate part of Maddie wanted to ask what Kyra thought would work, but she remained silent. No matter how grown-up Kyra acted, she was not only Maddie’s daughter but Steve’s.

“And while we’re on the subject of crushes on male celebrities,” Kyra continued, “I’ve agreed to let Dustin spend the Fourth of July weekend with Daniel.”

“But I thought it was agreed that Dustin wouldn’t spend time anywhere near Tonja Kay.”

“He’s not. Dustin and Daniel are going to spend the holiday at Bella Flora together. I told Daniel I’d be staying nearby to be sure she doesn’t arrive ‘unexpectedly.’”

Maddie leveled a look at her daughter. Where Daniel Deranian was concerned nothing was ever as simple or direct as it sounded.

“So you’re just going to leave him there with Daniel? You’re not planning to stay?”

“I made a reservation next door.”

“Aw, honey, you know it would be better to keep your distance. And if this gets out, every paparazzo in the northern hemisphere will be hotfooting it to Bella Flora.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got our disguises all figured out.” Kyra took Dustin’s empty sippy cup and fixed Maddie with another look. “Besides, you’re the one I’m worried about. I get that you’re free to date and all that. And Dad does have Kelly.” Kyra wrinkled her nose, still unhappy that her father had a girlfriend. “I just don’t think William Hightower is a good choice to start with. It’s like riding a Harley when you’ve only ever been on a mini scooter.” Kyra nodded emphatically. “I think you need to start with someone a little less dangerous. You know, someone less likely to break your heart. Someone who comes with training wheels.”

Avery climbed off the houseboat onto the retaining wall and carried her mug of coffee over to the closest Adirondack, where Maddie sat scribbling on a yellow pad. Dustin dug happily in the sand near her feet. More from habit than any sense that it would make a difference, she placed herself, back to camera, between the network crew’s boat on which Troy stood filming the curly-haired toddler.

A few feet away the rooster arched his neck, stuck out his chest, and crowed in her direction before strutting off without even looking to see if his groupies followed. Avery shook her head. “Every day I think old Romeo’s going to crow at daybreak and every day I’m disappointed. I’m not giving up my digital alarm anytime soon.” She watched as the last of his harem follow him around the bend in the path. “I don’t know what they see in him.”

“As Kyra just reminded me, there is no accounting for taste.” Maddie smiled. “But I’m guessing he’s the barnyard version of a walk on the wild side.”

Although she couldn’t see it for the mangroves, Avery heard a boat motor slowing near the dock. The boat horn tapped cheerily and someone called out for Roberto.

“What are you working on?” Avery asked, taking a seat in the empty Adirondack.

“I’ve made a list of resale shops between Key West and Palm Beach. I was going to spend the morning making calls and offering the furniture and fixtures that Deirdre’s not planning to use in any of the units. We need to get them off the island and it’s possible we might be able to make something to put toward the renovation.”

“Good.” Avery took a long sip of her coffee. “We still need to ask William about memorabilia. Anything he could sign that we could sell or auction off.”

Maddie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Avery knew that asking for things was way outside Maddie’s comfort zone; but she actually seemed to have more pull with William Hightower than any of the rest of them.

“Roberto said he could get to the kitchenette in Will’s bedroom first thing tomorrow morning, but some of the space is coming out of Will’s closet. Can you empty it this afternoon?”

“Don’t you think we should wait until William’s back? I can’t just go in his closet and paw through his things without his permission.”

“No, we can’t wait.” Avery downed the rest of her coffee. “We don’t know where he is or when he’ll be back. I hope it’s soon because Deirdre promised the outdoor kitchen company that he’d do an on-camera cooking demo as soon as it’s installed and we’re already behind schedule.” She set her mug on the broad arm of the chair as Roberto left his boat to greet his crew. “And you won’t be pawing through anything. You’ll be culling his possessions with great care and respect and moving them out of the way so that they won’t get dirty or damaged.”

Maddie grimaced. “But his underwear will probably be in the dressers there. I can’t go through his personal things.”

“I’m sure he’d rather find you handling his unmentionables than any other member of the crew. I’d ask Roberto to do it, but I’m afraid he might turn Will’s boxers into some sort of drug paraphernalia.”

Maddie couldn’t help but laugh at that image. Avery left quickly before Maddie could figure out a way to wriggle out of the task she’d been assigned.

By the time she’d finished making her calls, Maddie was pleased with the response she’d gotten from the resale shops. One vintage clothing store owner in Key West had explained that although she didn’t have room on her floor for furnishings, she’d take “anything that had touched William Hightower’s body in the last four decades.” Which had Maddie thinking that while she emptied the master closet, she should keep an eye out for old tour T-shirts or anything else Will might be willing to part with. By the time she had a sandwich and headed to the main house she’d pretty much convinced herself that emptying William Hightower’s closet was no more personal than emptying his kitchen cupboards, a feat she’d accomplished quickly and efficiently and with no qualms of any kind.

But William’s bedroom didn’t feel at all like his kitchen. For one thing his kitchen had not contained his unmade king-sized bed. Which she stared at for far longer than necessary. Its black-and-gray-striped sheets were rumpled, the pillows strewn across it, the comforter half on and half off it. Maddie had no idea if this was how William always left his bed or if he’d left so early that he hadn’t had time to make it.

She stood mesmerized for a ridiculously long period of time before finally stepping closer; close enough to touch the sheets he’d slept on, trace the pillows he’d placed his head on.

Okay, she was starting to creep herself out. She was not some groupie who would live forever on the memory of a look or glance. She was not going to stand here staring at William Hightower’s bed with her head full of . . . well, it didn’t matter what it was full of.

With a nervous laugh she berated herself for her childishness. For her ridiculous desire to . . . well, she didn’t want to think about what she might desire, either. And so she did what she would have done if the bed in front of her had belonged to anyone but William Hightower.

She made it. Neatly. With hospital corners. And a knife-edged crease on the edge of each pillow sham.

Then she marched into the closet. Where she breathed in the heady scent for several long moments while she attempted to absorb where she was and what she was seeing. It took some time to figure out the categories into which she might sort William Hightower’s belongings, but once she got started she tuned out everything else.

She was, in fact, so absorbed in her task that she heard nothing but her own thoughts until late afternoon when the front door slammed and heavy footsteps stomped up the newly built stairs and into the master bedroom.

“Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell are you doing?!”

Maddie whipped around at the sound of Will’s voice behind her. The stack of boxer briefs she held went flying into the air before landing all around them.

She wasn’t sure which of them looked more shocked. But she knew who looked angriest. She flinched at the look in his eyes, her worst fears realized. She’d been caught like an errant child with her hand in the underwear, er, cookie jar.