Page 8 of Old Flames

Sunday, March 25

10:00 a.m.Elizabeth Bishop House & Garden

11:00 a.m.San Carlos Institute

12:00 p.m.Tennessee Williams Key West

1:00 p.m.Lunch

5:00 p.m.Richard Carlisle

5:30 p.m.Keynote Closing Address: L.J. White

7:00 p.m.Book Signing

8:00 p.m.Dinner

3

“Goodness! You made it!” Daphne Narcisse had burst out of the inn to greet him. “Thank the Lord!”

Leo gave her a hug. “Your prayers are answered.”

Daphne flashed a toothy smile. She was unchanged from their last encounter. Deep brown skin, long, thin braids, light cotton dress, leather sandals.

“You’re early,” she said. “We have champagne on ice, but the staff isn’t ready.”

“I’m good,” he said.

He was the first of the seven authors to arrive. He would’ve shown up earlier had he not indulged in a three-day detour. On Monday he’d stopped at Big Pine Key, booked a room, and sought out a dive shop. He spent his days in the water, his evenings writing.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I owe you one.”

“It’ll be like old times.”

“No, it won’t!” she said, laughing over the soft gurgle of a fountain. “I’m forty. I can’t hang out like that anymore. My back hurts and my hands are full. This weekend I’m herding cats. But don’t worry. You’ll have fun. This group is young and lively.”

“I’m not worried,” he said. “If I can’t have fun in Key West, check my pulse.”

They weren’t close friends, but they’d bonded through trauma one summer, teaching a workshop at Bennington. Daphne had made the best of the experience. Strategic networking landed her a prestigious gig, editing The Best American Short Stories anthology the following year. Leo went on to do what he did best: avoid anything resembling a classroom. Goodness, it was dull. And yet he’d accepted her late invitation to the free event organized to stoke public interest in the literary arts. She’d pleaded over the phone for the favor. “Gregory Fox left us high and dry!”

“Fuck Gregory Fox.”

Goody-goody Daphne echoed the sentiment without the salty language. “He was our headliner. I need a big name to replace him. That’s you.”

“Is it?”

“I wanted you all along. I just knew you’d reject me.”

He laughed. “Stop!”

“Please, Leo! I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

The famous Mr. Fox was best known for his 2019 smash hit The Cannibals Next Door. In his latest interview with NPR, he mentioned renting a villa in Jamaica for the summer to finish a novel and revise a screenplay. Busy man.

The valet attendant returned his keys along with a ticket to claim the vehicle, which Leo had no intention of doing.

“I can’t believe you drove all the way down here from . . . where again?”