Natalie grinned. “Sorry. MaybeIshould be buyingyousomething.”
Cece laughed. “Let’s finish this side and get some lunch.”
“I’m ready.”
They walked around window shopping until they got to the food court. They both ordered burgers and French fries, not Cece’s usual fare, but it wasn’t every day she got to hang out with her daughter.
They found a table away from everyone else and sat.
“I’m really glad we could do this,” Cece said. “It’s good to spend time with you.”
“You, too.” Natalie picked up a fry, ate it, then took a deep breath. “How did you know Dad was having an affair?”
“I didn’t, really. Not until after he left. Why?”
Natalie exhaled, but it sounded more like a sigh. “Because I think Jim is having one.”
Chapter Three
Estella Rodrigez-Holt let her husband, Frank, sleep, but she couldn’t stay in bed. Old habits died hard and thirty-three years of getting up early for her job as principal of Beechwood Middle School had changed her internal clock forever.
Just because Essie was retired—and newly married—didn’t mean she was going to start sleeping in.
She smiled as she took her phone and coffee outside to the screened porch that faced the Gulf. It was so nice to be able to sit out here and enjoy the view. The water was a lovely blue and the day promised to be beautiful. The truly hot days of summer were still a ways off, but she didn’t mind the heat.
She settled into her usual chair, put her coffee on the side table, and focused on her phone. She started the routine she’d developed since they’d moved to the Colony.
First, she checked email. Mostly junk. A note from one of the ladies at church reminding all those who were attending the meal after Sunday’s service to bring whatever dish they’d signed up for. Essie was making her famous potato salad. She’d already planned on a trip to Publix today to get the ingredients.
She wondered if she should pick something up for the book club this evening. The invitation hadn’t said to bring anything, but it felt impolite to go to someone’s house and not bring something. A bottle of wine? Maybe something from the bakery? Or flowers? She’d decide when she got to Publix.
From her inbox, she went to social media. Facebook, usually. But she liked TikTok, too. Mostly because she felt like it kept her connected to the younger generation, although she didn’t always understand what they were talking about.
There was another reason she went on TikTok. A reason she hadn’t mentioned to Frank. His youngest, his daughter, Sophie, was on TikTok.
Finding her had taken some work, but after years of dealing with students, Essie was wiser than the younger generation gave her credit for.
Sophie was a prolific poster, using the social media platform as her personal diary in a way. She had about twenty thousand followers, which seemed like a lot to Essie, but she chose to be grateful that number wasn’t higher. No one needed to see the indulgent nonsense that child was posting.
Sophie did little videos about what she was eating, some new cosmetic product she was in love with, a new dance she’d learned, or her favorite kind of post—her outfit of the day. In Essie’s opinion, Sophie’s clothing choices did her no favors. She picked things that were too short, too tight, or covered in logos, which seemed like something she did so she could talk about how much they cost.
Essie got it. The girl wanted attention. That was easy enough to see from her long fake nails, long fake eyelashes, and long fake hair extensions.
Sad, because Sophie was a beautiful girl. She was the image of her late mother, who’d been Frank’s high school sweetheartand absolutely stunning. Essie had seen the resemblance immediately from the photos around Frank’s house.
Credit where credit was due: Essie couldn’t hold a candle to Stacia’s looks. Essie did all right, but she wasn’t the natural beauty Stacia had been. Essie would allow that she was attractive, but she acknowledged that as she aged, her looks, such as they were, had faded a bit.
She did her best. Kept active. Used the best products she could afford. Gave herself facials. But at some point, nature and time were always going to win.
With a sigh, she scrolled through her Facebook feed. She commented on Marcia Jimenez’s photo of her grandchildren. Wished Pastor Timmons a happy birthday. Clicked on the Care emoji when another friend posted about breaking her favorite coffee mug.
She was about to post the photo she’d taken yesterday, a picture of some of her flowers, when a text message arrived.
It was from her daughter, Liliana.Sophie posted some serious shade today.
Essie’s breath stuck in her throat. It was no secret that Sophie wasn’t a fan of her father remarrying. She’d been more than clear that no one would ever take the place of her mother, although Essie believed there was more to Sophie’s dislike of Essie than simply because she’d married the young woman’s father.
Essie didn’t want to take Stacia’s place. Sophie and her brother, Chad, were adults. Essie wasn’t interested in being their stepmother, because they didn’t need one. She’d tried to make that plain, but Sophie either didn’t believe her or didn’t want to.
