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If it isn’t already apparent, there are a lot of dating connections made at the Gastrodome—that is why I took the job here. Not because I want to date, in case that wasn’t clear. I do not. I’m in it for the tips, and sports bars are where it’s at.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do weekends unless my sisters are visiting.” They each come once a month to help me out—with their kids. It’s a zoo and I love it. Usually, for one of the nights, I’ll pick up some hours while they entertain Luke. Every little bit helps.
The Givenator is facing jail time for various crimes, including for a Ponzi scheme. He denied paternity, which is an impossibility, but we signed documentation that he’ll have no role in Luke’s life per his request. I didn’t argue. But that means I work hard and have little time for anything else, least of all dating.
All I want is a weekend with a hammock, a book, and time to get my life sorted out. I would also like my old job back. There I was, climbing the ladder at a PR firm, and then Troy barged into my life. He was a client at Appeal PR who tricked me into thinking I was someone special.
Mostly, I want to have dinner with my Lukey-boy, take a walk together and watch the birds in the park, give him a bubble bath,play together with his blocks, and then read his favorite books before we say our prayers and go to bed.
It’s not until we do that last part, and I’m drifting off, nestled next to my son, breathing his fresh baby scent when my phone vibrates across the room—I always have the ringer off.
Reluctantly, I quietly get up to check it. Thankfully, Luke is out like a light. My sister texted, asking me to call ASAP but not to worry.
Of course, I do.
Closing myself in the bathroom and whispering into the phone, I say, “Hi. Luke just went down. What’s up?”
“It’s not a big deal. But Harper and I had an idea...”
And that is the beginning of how my sister, Heather with my other sister Harper backing her up, coax me into going to the Florida Keys this weekend.
I don’t get a second wind tonight so much as I can’t turn off my brain. I haven’t been home since Aunt Martina’s funeral. And before that, it had been ages because of the Miss Manatee incident.
Apparently, Uncle Eddie, my dad’s brother, is having a rough go, and possibly the Plundering Pelican is suffering for it—his restaurant, not an actual pelican.
I’m reluctant to leave Luke. It will be my first time away from him for more than the length of a shift at the Gastrodome. But he’ll be in good hands with Heather, my oldest sister, who lives in Tallahassee. Harper and her kids will visit for the weekend too, so I have nothing to worry about.
I’ll miss him more than he’ll miss me, spending time with his aunties and cousins. At least, this is what I tell myself.
They’re each married with three kids and voted that I visit because I only have one. Dad is offshore on an oil rig and won’t be home for a few more days. Brando, my cousin and Uncle Eddie’s son, hasn’t returned calls.
That means this is urgent, so they nominated me as theambassador. Plus, they say having a couple of nights to myself will be rejuvenating.
I didn’t know I was un-juvinated.
They pay the ninety-nine dollars for my flight to Miami. I do my best to ignore the Miami Riptide display at the airport, featuring their quarterback with his arm lifted as he intercepts a football. I’m not interested in the cut of his muscles, bronze skin, or his blue eyes. Not even a little. If I were to date, I’d prefer a runty gnome for a boyfriend. Someone with baggy eyes like Shaggy from table five.
I drive the familiar route south before hitting the Dixie, remembering our summers spent here when I was in grade school. Dad joined a fishing crew to make extra money. Then, when I was in high school, we relocated here permanently.
He raised us with our aunt, uncle, and my cousin Brando playing major roles. Mom hated Alabama and went back to Ohio when I was two—Heather and Harper are older. Dad did his best, and every Sunday after church, we’d bake cookies and eat them with milk, then play board games.
Milk and cookies are my favorite. Dad used the readymade kind from a package, but I never complained because sometimes he’d substitute ice cream for the milk, saying it was essentially the same, just thicker. My sisters and I still laugh at the logic, but he does it with the grandkids too, though not Luke. Not yet.
My mind doesn’t let me linger there long and floats to the Miss Manatee incident. But I listen to my sisters’ voices in my head. That was years ago. I’m all grown up. Ryan too.
But from what I’ve seen on TV and social media, he’s little more than a man-child. Still up to his old tricks.
Do I occasionally browse his social media accounts? It’s hard not to when stories about him are always popping up in my feed. It’s probably the algorithm.
Just before I pull into town, I call my sisters to check-in.
“Everything is good,” Harper answers. She gives me a full update about everything Luke has eaten today. Then she adds, “Iknow it’s hard being away from Lukey, but just think, you haven’t gone to the bathroom alone in months. Don’t squander the long weekend.”
I slap the steering wheel of the rental car. I forgot about the applesauce for ABC day, and I still have to get someone to cover my shift on Monday.
So much for being a boss babe who does it all. But do I care? Answer pending.
Heather joins her on speaker phone and they insist I enjoy my visit, telling me to think of it like a retreat on what may as well be paradise island. They say I need a little R&R after the year I’ve had. They promise it’ll be fun. They dare me to lounge in a hammock.
