Wendy Wax - The House on Mermaid Point

All of the men who had been sent by the committed sponsoring companies for the walk-through promised to give her their estimates of time and materials before they left. But only Fred had arrived with a slightly battered but no doubt precision-packed suitcase prepared to get to work immediately. And so she loved him on sight.

“All I have to do is call my assistant with what I need and he’ll bring everything down with him tomorrow. He has family in Marathon, but if you can put me up here on Mermaid Point, I’m yours.” The electrician’s eyes, which were the same iron gray as his hair, twinkled.

“How long do you think it will take?”

“I need to spend time in all the structures, of course, to determine that, but if I’m here and I just roll out of bed in the morning?” He thought for a moment. “I’m starting a big job right after the Fourth. I’ll make it my business to be done before that, whatever it takes.”

Avery wanted to throw her arms around the man and kiss him, but she was afraid she might wrinkle something. The only question was where to put him. William Hightower had made it clear he wasn’t receiving “guests” until he absolutely had to and that he hoped that day would never come. They had no room on their houseboat and even if they had, Avery couldn’t quite picture this carefully pressed man standing in line for their only bathroom surrounded on every side by so much estrogen.

“He can bunk with me.” Roberto had come up while Strahlendorf was talking and had looked the electrician over. Now he offered his hand. “I’ve got an extra couple of beds.” He nodded toward his brightly painted houseboat.

“Thanks.” The electrician didn’t look at all worried about living with an aging hippie on a boat that was doing its best to imitate a Keys sunset. She looked and saw Troy and Anthony shooting, both of them smiling. No doubt they were already envisioning how much comedic relief might be provided by Mermaid Point’s very own Odd Couple.

When the day was over her brain actually hurt from the thousands of details that had been stuffed inside it, but she now had everything she needed to create a master construction schedule and she felt a relief that she hadn’t imagined just a day before.

If everyone followed through on their commitments and she was careful not to allow any overruns, they might actually be done by mid-August. Which would leave a couple of weeks’ grace for delays and spillover and for Deirdre to fluff and stage and put on the finishing touches. Her goal was to be off Mermaid Point before hurricane season kicked into high gear in September.

It was long past dinnertime when Avery stood on the dock waving good-bye and shouting her thanks as the subcontractors boarded Hudson’s skiff for the ride back to the marina. Back on the houseboat she watched Maddie throw together a salad, which they ate off paper plates. Slightly revived, they left Kyra tucking Dustin into bed and eased themselves into the hot tub just in time for sunset.

The only sounds were the occasional crescendo of the cicadas and boats passing Mermaid Point out in the channel. The air was warm and moist, the breeze mild. The quiet was as soothing as the water that bubbled gently around them. Maddie yawned and laid her head back against the edge of the Jacuzzi, her eyes tilted up toward the sky. Deirdre tilted her head back, too, but was careful not to get her hair wet. Nicole’s eyes were closed, her arms spread out to each side to hold herself in place. Even now after the day they’d all had, she looked oddly elegant, her hair still in its careless chignon, her lips, which were lightly coated with gloss, turned up in a small but satisfied smile. Avery smiled, too.

She contemplated Deirdre, who had belatedly donned the mantle of motherhood and refused to relinquish it, and admitted what she had never thought she would: Deirdre Morgan was an important part of their whole. A piece she wouldn’t want to be without.

“If I had a glass of anything in my hand, I’d be toasting all of you.” Avery raised her empty hand as if it were cupping a wineglass stem. “And especially all of the wonderful companies that sent subs our way and who Nicole and Deirdre have convinced to work for so little.”

“Here, here.” Nicole opened her eyes to chime in.

“I move we go to Islamorada for a celebratory dinner ASAP so that we can toast this up right.” Deirdre raised an imaginary glass and leaned forward to “clink” it against Avery’s.

“I second that motion.” Maddie raised her imaginary glass to theirs.

“What happens next, O fearless leader?” Nicole asked Avery as they settled back into optimal soaking positions.

“For the next weeks, or at least until it’s time to paint, refinish the floors, and add final decorative touches under Deirdre’s supervision, we’re going to assist our subcontractors in every way possible. I’m going to pair each of us with a sponsoring company as a runner/facilitator/interpreter—whatever it takes. Everybody needs to learn as much as they can with an eye toward future renovations and lend a hand wherever it’s needed. It’ll be up to all of us to keep everybody moving forward as seamlessly and quickly as possible.

“If we keep our heads down for the next two weeks, take off the Fourth to recharge, and then settle in to finish, I feel pretty sure we can be up and running by Labor Day.”

“That’s good. Because Labor Day is a biggie here. That’s when the 1935 hurricane hit and more than four hundred people died.” Maddie swallowed. “I’m not sure I could face the memorial service they do every year. I can still remember Hurricane Charlene and cowering in that motel bathroom when she was barreling past Pass-a-Grille.”

“Hey, from what I hear it’s been an abnormally dry, calm summer. But I’m all for being done ahead of schedule,” Avery said. “And if we’re going to make it we’re going to need a designated ‘Hightower Handler.’”

“I hope you weren’t looking at me when you said that.” Maddie folded her arms across her chest.

“Of course I was looking at you. We need someone to keep him . . . well, maybe not happy but at least cooperative.”

“That’s not as easy as you seem to think,” Maddie said. “The last time you gave me ‘Hightower detail’ he caught me with his underwear in my hands.”

“I’m sorry I missed that.” Nicole’s voice rang with suppressed laughter.

“We’re all sorry we missed that,” Deirdre added.

“I can’t tell you how much I wish I’d missed that,” Maddie said drily.

“But you got him to agree to donate some things,” Avery pointed out.

“Hell, it sounds like we could have auctioned off some of his underwear, too.” Nicole looked wide awake now. Even in the fading light Avery could see her eyes glinting with humor.

“Oh, no.” Maddie’s voice took on a teasing tone. “He specifically exempted them.”

Nicole snorted and then there was no holding back the laughter.

“You should have seen his face when the underwear went flying in the air and landed all around us.” Maddie joined in the laughter.

Soon all of them were howling, clutching their sides. Deirdre didn’t seem to care if she got her head wet anymore. Roberto and Fred had stopped looking at the sky and were watching them in surprise. Avery wiped tears of laughter from her face. Nicole was still laughing so hard she looked at risk of going under.

“Fine. It was completely ridiculous.” Maddie wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “But the man was royally pissed off.”

“But he does listen to you.” Deirdre was the first to get herself under control. “Whether you want the title or not I think you’re the perfect pick for William the Wild Whisperer.”

This had them cracking up all over again. The sky grew dark and the stars began to come out. It was Deirdre who finally cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Where do we stand with the zoning issues?”

“I really can’t think about it,” Avery replied honestly. “I’m thrilled with the subs we have lined up. We now have a first-rate carpenter and electrician in residence. I saw online that there’s talk about lifting the ban on B and Bs.” She shrugged. “I’ve got too many other things that I can control to worry about the ones I can’t. We’re not tied to land, we’re not changing the footprint of any of the structures, and so far no one has tried to prevent us from pulling permits. As far as I’m concerned this is the network’s legal department’s problem.”

“Except that Lisa Hogan is already trying to make it ours,” Nicole said quietly.

Avery shrugged again. “She just said we had to be done by Labor Day, and we’re going to do everything humanly possible to meet that deadline. But I can’t force William Hightower to be standing at the front door greeting guests with a smile on his face. And I can’t be expected to go out and book those guests, either. As my father used to say, all we can do is the best we can do.”

They left the hot tub extremely shriveled but oddly hopeful. Avery said her good nights to everyone and watched them head back to the houseboat. Alone, she stepped out onto the moonlit sliver of beach and pulled out her cell phone, eager to call Chase and fill him in.

Over the last weeks of June one day bled into the next. Maddie felt the sun beat down harder, gaining strength each day. Even when the clouds scuttled in, the breeze remained heavy with humidity; a warm wet towel that wrapped itself around you and refused to be shrugged off.

Despite the heat the once-sleepy island appeared wide awake and pulsing with life. The subs arrived early each morning and stayed late each afternoon. Boats and barges came and went bearing workmen, supplies, and materials; an invasion so complete that even William Hightower seemed at a loss as to which incursions loomed largest.

Mermaid Point thrummed with the sounds of power tools and reverberated with shouts. Wherever Roberto worked, rock and roll and especially classic southern rock blared from portable speakers; something that William had at first blanched at and then pretended not to notice but that made Maddie’s blood quicken each time the strains of remembered favorites reached her. She lingered outside the garage late one afternoon where Roberto was framing in a new upstairs bath and stair just so that she could listen to a younger, edgier William Hightower’s pain-roughened vocals that lamented the mermaid who’d left him to return to the sea.

She was blinking away tears, wondering how someone who could evoke such strong emotion with his voice could stop using it, when she looked up and saw Troy and Anthony recording her reaction. The crew somehow seemed to be everywhere capturing everything. Kyra blocked whatever shots of Dustin she could and occasionally she shot back, though what she intended to do with the video of the video and audio men seemed unclear.

The days passed in constant motion and forced interaction so that by the time the subs left for the day even Maddie, who had always been keenly aware of the importance of communication, had little to say and virtually no energy with which to say it. She’d become far less stringent about maintaining their “one good thing” tradition, but because sunsets were off-limits to the network camera, they took to the upper deck almost nightly, carrying their snacks and cans of soft drinks, which they’d begun to spike with rum from a liter bottle that Nicole had brought back from Miami. Sometimes they toasted and reflected on the day; sometimes they sat silently, their eyes on the sun and the sky.

Avery’s fingers were Cheez Doodle orange and the rum she’d poured into her Diet Coke can was starting to kick in when a boatload of paparazzi slowed out in the channel, one of two daily “drive-by shootings” that had grown as regular and inevitable as the tides. So far Nigel and his friends had kept their distance, sticking to the deep water and relying on telephoto lenses so long they could magnify a blemish that hadn’t fully formed yet from two miles away.

From the deck of his sunset boat, Roberto waved a tie-dyed bandana at the photographers while Fred Strahlendorf aimed the tip of a screwdriver at them before holstering it in his tool belt. Avery gave the paparazzi an orange-coated finger, but with Dustin already tucked into his berth and their energy level at such a low ebb, there wasn’t a lot of heat in the exchange.

“Permission to come aboard?” Hudson Power stood on the retaining wall, his head tilted back to address them. In the swimming pool William Hightower swam lap after lap, something he now did at sunrise before the workmen arrived and near sunset after they left.