Ocean Beach by Wendy Wax Page A

you make sure that you’re really always putting them first?” She looked around, checking once again to make sure that no one was watching them. That Troy and Anthony were not hidden behind some tree recording their conversation.
    “I guess it’s just maternal instinct,” Madeline said. “Usually we mother like our own mothers did. Or in some circumstances, we do the exact opposite.” She looked up over the deck, her voice thoughtful, and Deirdre could tell that she’d probably never put any of this into words before. “You love unconditionally and you let them know it.”
    “Yes, well, I didn’t have any instruction,” Deirdre said. “My mother didn’t leave, but she was even less of a mother than I was. When I had Avery I felt that kind of love, but it was no match for the fear I felt. I was so afraid I’d screw everything up.”
    “I think she turned out pretty well,” Madeline said with a small smile. “A little ornery at times, but very strong and resourceful.”
    “That was Peter’s doing. He was born to be a father; Avery’s father,” Deirdre admitted. “You should have seen her following him around his construction sites in that little pink hard hat he gave her.” Her smile turned lopsided. “I couldn’t compete with that. And in the end I bungled everything. But I’m determined to get it right this time.” One eyebrow went up. “I guess it’s too late for a pony?”
    Madeline laughed. “Just a little.”
    They sipped their wine for a few moments as the shadowslengthened and the day drew to a close. “Showing love and being a mother is a highly individual thing,” Maddie said. “It’s not like there’s a course with a syllabus and homework assignments.”
    The bottle was almost gone. Deirdre poured the last of it into their glasses and raised hers to her lips.
    A car pulled into the driveway. A door slammed somewhere in the house and Deirdre knew that the time had come to ask for what she wanted. She sincerely hoped Madeline wasn’t going to laugh in her face.
    “But there could be, couldn’t there?” Deirdre asked, setting down her glass. “Some sort of informal syllabus or list of suggestions?”
    “I’m sorry?” Madeline said, her brow furrowing.
    The garage door rumbled up and Dustin’s cry sounded from upstairs.
    “I have a feeling that I’m missing something,” Maddie said. “What is it that you want?”
    Deirdre fingered the stem of her wineglass and looked Maddie square in the eye. “I want to learn to be a real mother.” She heard a humiliating note of desperation in her voice, but was powerless to disguise it. “And I want you to teach me how.”

Chapter Nine

    Their first officially observed sunset in Miami took place a few nights later on The Millicent’s stern-shaped deck. Although Avery had already explained that this would be more of a business meeting than their traditional “toasting” whatever good thing they could dredge from their day, she was careful not to mess with the eating-and-drinking portion of the ritual.
    Nicole led the way up the gangplank carrying a blender of frozen strawberry daiquiris and was followed by Kyra with a second pitcher of the icy pink concoction. Madeline brought napkins and paper plates, one of which was piled high with the little hot dogs in blankets that had been a sunset staple at Bella Flora, while Avery balanced a tray of glasses and a bag of Cheez Doodles. The women barely nodded to Troy and Anthony, who had planted themselves at the base of the stairs to record their parade up the gangplank.
    Nicole poured drinks as they settled into the neon-colored beach chairs that Maddie had salvaged from the previous summer. Deirdre, who was already dressed for dinner with a former client, set a large foil-covered tray on a battered plastic table and dragged it toward Avery.
    When she was certain she had Avery’s attention, Deirdre unwrapped an artfully displayed assortment of Cheez Doodles, cheese puffs, and Cheez-Its.