Ten Beach Road (12 page)

Nicole sat very still; her patrician features might have been sculpted from marble. They continued to watch each other as carefully as the seagulls watched their uneaten food. After a protracted silence, Avery continued. “All in favor of working on the house and paying Chase back out of the proceeds from the sale say ‘aye.’ ”

Madeline noticed that Avery didn’t use the words “trained monkey” or “grunt” as she laid out the option, though the motion itself did seem to be passing through heavily gritted teeth.

Almost in unison all three of them said, “Aye.” It took a moment for the reality of that to sink all the way in. Then Nicole picked up Avery’s cell phone from the table and handed it to her. Practically choking on the words, Avery told Chase Hardin that they accepted his terms. She also accepted his father’s offer of some mattresses and odds and ends of furniture from a model home they’d recently sold. Chase would bring the things with him when he came to discuss their job the next morning.

Avery ended the call and put down her phone as they all registered the fact that their gruntdom was now a mere twenty-four hours away. Nicole closed her eyes briefly before offering a rueful smile. ‘Oh, boy,” she said, “a whole summer here on the very tip of the back of beyond. Let the good times roll.”

They lingered over final cups of coffee trying, Nicole thought, to absorb the reality of their decision.

Getting up to throw out the paper goods and stack her tray on the counter, Madeline asked, “Are we really doing this?”

“Looks like it,” Nicole said as the three of them turned onto the sidewalk that paralleled the beach and headed back toward the house. “What are we going to do the rest of the day, work on our grunts?”

“I’m sure once we’re dealing with Chase the grunting will come naturally,” Avery replied as they passed Eighth Avenue.

“The first thing we have to do is get the house ready for habitation,” Madeline said.

“That’s going to take way more than a day,” Nicole pointed out, not at all looking forward to it.

“I mean ready enough to start sleeping there tomorrow night,” Madeline corrected. “If that’s still the plan?”

Nicole would have liked to stay in a hotel, preferably the Don CeSar and not the Cottage Inn, while they worked on the house, but she could barely afford another night in the old cottage with its ancient chenille bedspread and blonde fifties furniture. “Unless someone has a better one.” God, she’d love to hear a better plan; one that didn’t include all the unpleasant tasks that lay ahead.

They walked in silence for the next few minutes, mulling this over, but no one offered an alternative to the coming months of slave labor. An aging hippie pedaled by on a bicycle, offering a noncommittal wave, but car and pedestrian traffic was light. The long row of parking spaces fronting the beach were mostly unoccupied.

They all looked ahead rather than at each other, waiting for that first glimpse of Bella Flora. But when the multi-angled red roof line and upper story appeared over the unkempt front garden, the view, now that the rose-colored glasses had been ripped from their eyes, was not particularly reassuring.

“We can do this,” Avery said. “All we have to do is get a couple of bedrooms and a bath ready. The master’s unusable until we get the roof and ceiling repaired and that moldy carpet up.”

“Let’s make it all three of the other bedrooms,” Nicole said. “Camping out in that house is unappealing enough. I’m not planning on sharing.”

“And we’re going to want to use the kitchen,” Madeline added, her gaze skimming over the house rather than meeting theirs. “So we don’t have to run out to eat all the time.”

Nicole almost laughed at how careful they all were to sidestep the subject of finances. But would any of them be sleeping on a mattress on the floor if they didn’t have to?

“It
is
a great house,” Avery said, but it sounded to Nicole as if the blonde were trying to convince herself. “It would have been criminal to tear it down.”

Madeline wore a look of resignation. Nicole felt too much anger and fear to be fully resigned, but the decision had been made. There was nothing to be gained in second-guessing it. “So I assume the first thing we need is cleaning supplies,” she said without enthusiasm.

“Yes. In massive quantities,” Avery agreed. “If we get started this morning, we should be able to be ready for the mattresses and all tomorrow. But I’m sure we’re going to spend weeks cleaning. That house has been pretty much unoccupied for years.”

“Then we need to go to one of the warehouse clubs,” Madeline said, leading the way to the brick drive. “I’m sure there must be one in the area.”

Nicole stared at her blankly. “A warehouse . . . club?”

“You know,” she said. “Like Sam’s Club or Costco, where you get a membership so you can buy big quantities of things for less.”

“I’ve never really needed anything in a big enough quantity to join one,” Avery said. “Do they have cleaning supplies?”

“A whole section.” Madeline said this as if this were a good thing. “Industrial and commercial strength, which we are definitely going to need. They cater to small business.”

Nicole couldn’t think of a single thing to add to this conversation. She’d spent most of her life working so that she wouldn’t need to go to a place like that and cleaning supplies were pretty much the last thing she wanted to spend the last of her money on. But Madeline peered at them as if they were odd life-forms from some alien planet. Or spies from a foreign country who’d failed the slang test at some military checkpoint.

In the driveway, Madeline pulled her car keys from the pocket of her capris. “We’ll take my car. I’ve got the most cargo space.” She clicked her remote key and the locks sprang open. “We can look up the address for the nearest Sam’s Club or Costco on my GPS.”

Nicole and Avery made no move toward the minivan. Nicole took in its shape and size, its golden beige–ness. She’d never actually been in one before and wasn’t wild about getting in one now.

“What’s wrong?” Madeline asked, reaching for the door handle. “Do you need to get something out of the house?”

“No.”

“Well, go ahead and get in then.” She motioned Nicole to the passenger seat as she climbed in behind the steering wheel. With the click of another button the rear door behind Madeline’s seat slid open for Avery.

Nicole walked slowly around to the passenger door, pulled it open, and peered in. It had leather seats and all kinds of gadgetry, but it was about as stylish as a school bus. “Maybe I should just meet you all there,” she said. “Wherever ‘there’ is.”

Avery laughed. Madeline just patted the empty seat. “Come on. I’m pretty sure that just sitting inside a minivan won’t turn you into a suburban housewife.”

Avery laughed again. “Relax, Nicole. If you want, I’m sure Madeline will leave you off a couple of blocks away so no one will know how you got there.”

Madeline speared Nicole with a look. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry than our personal images,” she said. “And we’re running out of time.” She patted the seat once again. “Your secret’s safe with me.” Turning to the backseat, she asked, “What about you, Avery? Will you feel the need to let people know that
the
Nicole Grant rode in a minivan and value shopped in a membership club?”

Avery pretended to think. “I don’t know. It’s pretty explosive information, but I think I can keep it to myself.”

“Very funny.” Nicole climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed, pointedly ignoring Avery’s laughter and Madeline’s triumphant smile as she backed the beige behemoth down the driveway. “But I have a bad feeling this is just the first in a long line of new experiences that I could have gone the rest of my lifetime without.”

Like the rest of the day, the hour and a half they spent in Sam’s Club turned out to be better and worse than Nicole had feared. On the plus side, no one recognized her or even noticed her for that matter. Largely, she suspected, because most of them seemed to be even older than the Realtor, John Franklin, and seemed focused on navigating their unwieldy flatbeds through the aisles or speed pushing their walkers from sample table to sample table. When she finally accepted the fact that there was not a potential client in sight and absolutely no chance of running into a former one, she began to relax and even kept her complaints to a minimum as Madeline masterminded their acquisition of every cleaning product and tool known to man.

“Load the brooms and mops in Nicole’s cart,” she said when the flatbed Avery was pushing was piled high with industrial-sized drums of Pine-Sol and Clorox as well as anything else that could be sprayed or wiped. “And let’s get another box of large trash bags and one of the outdoor kind. And a couple of those Rubbermaid garbage cans. Even if we have a Dumpster, we’re still going to have to get things to it. Oh, and what about those folding beach chairs?” Madeline asked as they wheeled by a display of cheap aluminum chairs with multicolored mesh straps. “We can use them out back and take them down to the beach if we want.”

Nicole kept her groan to herself as the chairs were balanced on top of the flatbed. Madeline then focused on filling up her own basket with more food and drink than Nicole would normally consume in a month. “I’m used to shopping for four, including a teenage boy,” Madeline said when Avery questioned the huge quantities of everything she chose. “We definitely need at least a case of Diet Coke to start and one of bottled water.” She eyed the mixed case of cheap wines she’d chosen. “Maybe we should get a bottle or two of the better wines for celebratory situations.”

As if.
“You mean something intended for more than its numbing qualities?” Nicole asked.

“Yes, exactly.” Madeline smiled, ignoring or simply not noticing Nicole’s sarcasm. “Will you choose a couple?” And then to Avery, “Can you squeeze a few of those rotisserie chickens in the basket? We’re going to want to eat in as much as possible to try to keep expenses down.”

Now there was a real day brightener, Nicole thought as they pushed their bounty toward the front of the store. A summer full of cheap food, folding chairs, and home-cooked meals. Those good times were so going to roll.

As they neared the checkout lanes, Madeline waved them to a stop in the ladies’ clothing aisle—strategically located just past the automotive section—where Avery and Madeline selected some of the ugliest shorts and T-shirts Nicole had ever seen.

“Do you have anything you can work in?” Avery asked with a glance at Nicole’s cream-colored capris and body-sculpted T. “Cleaning is a pretty dirty business.” Her look said she doubted Nicole had any experience with this. “And the grunt work is bound to be even filthier.”

“I have running clothes with me,” Nicole replied. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Avery shrugged, but Madeline held up a pair of plaid seersucker shorts and a poorly cut sleeveless T-shirt with a striped umbrella on it. Nikki shuddered.

“Are you sure?” Avery asked with a smirk. “I think that would really round out your wardrobe.”

“It’s unlikely anything nice is going to survive the summer,” Madeline pointed out. “You really should have some things that don’t matter.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Nicole said, suppressing another shudder. She’d spent a lifetime making sure she’d never have to wear cheap ill-fitting clothing again. She was not about to start now.

Assorted paper goods were added to the tower of stuff. By the time they’d made it through the checkout line and anted up their thirds, Nicole was far too numb to object to the foot long hot dog and giant fountain drink that Madeline proposed for lunch. They ate them in a few hungry bites then carried their drinks with them to the van, which they loaded under Madeline’s expert supervision; it seemed efficient cargo area filling was yet another suburban skill at which Madeline Singer excelled.

In the parking lot, where cars seemed to move and zip around far faster and with even more deadly intent than they did on the street, Nicole contemplated her partners and reflected on just how far out of her comfort zone their little shopping venture had yanked her. Still, she joined in on the three-way high five at all they’d managed to purchase for just a hundred dollars apiece. When it was time to climb back into the minivan for the trip back to the beach, she only flinched slightly.

 

 

An eternity later, they hobbled out to the backyard just as the sky was beginning to pinken. Bedraggled, they dropped into the beach chairs with a scrape of aluminum against concrete.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this dirty in my entire life.” Madeline plopped a family-sized container of hummus and triangles of pita bread on the upside down packing box that their Sam’s purchases had been carried in.

“Me, neither.” Avery dropped a bag of Cheez Doodles beside it and swiped the back of her forearm across her forehead, managing to add another streak of dirt to her face.

Nicole set an opened bottle of Chardonnay on the pool deck next to her bare feet and handed a plastic cup to each of them. “If there was an inch of water in this pool, I’d be in it.” Nicole slumped in her chair. “I think we should make it a top priority.”

“We barely have a working bathroom,” Avery pointed out. “It took me forever to clean the shower and the tub up in the hall. There’s pretty much no water pressure. I’d rather have a shower than a swim in a pool.”

“I want both,” Nicole said, lifting the cup to her lips. “It’s not an either/or sort of thing.”

“Well, it is here.” Avery took a long sip of her wine as the sun slipped farther toward the Gulf. “Everything’s not going to get done at once, but I will talk to Chase about the schedule and how things should be prioritized.”

Madeline looked ruefully down at herself. Together they could have posed for the illustration of “something the cat dragged in”—even Nicole in her high-end running clothes and her hair pulled back in a glittery clasp. This was only day one; she could hardly imagine what they’d look like after the long, hot summer that lay ahead.