Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
T he heat of the midday sun pressed down on the yellow bungalow as Leah wiped her hands on a dish towel, glancing at the clock for the third time in five minutes. Ernest strutted past the window, his feathers ruffled by the humid breeze, seemingly as anxious about their incoming guest as she was.
"You're going to wear a groove into the floor if you keep pacing like that," Tess said from her spot on the sofa, where she was sprawled with a magazine that had clearly been read one too many times. The latest issue of "Island Life"—their last remaining subscription from better days—featured a cover story about "Making Paradise Perfect." The irony wasn't lost on either of them.
"I'm not pacing," Leah replied, though she immediately stopped moving. She adjusted a shell-encrusted picture frame for the fourth time, wondering if their attempt at island decor looked charming or just desperate. "I just want everything to be…ready."
"It's not like the Queen of England is visiting," Tess said with a grin, tossing the magazine onto their thrift store coffee table. "It's Kaitlyn. She'll be too busy taking selfies to notice if the place is clean. Remember Christmas at Gretchen’s? She spent the whole time doing TikTok dances in the kitchen."
Leah gave her sister a look but said nothing. Tess had always had a knack for minimizing stress, even when it wasn't helpful. For Leah, the arrival of their niece was both exciting and nerve-wracking, not to mention ill-timed.
“Does Gretchen know her daughter is coming to stay with us?” Tess asked.
Leah shrugged. “Good question. I didn’t ask, nor did I press her to explain why the last minute visit. I mean, it’s short notice.”
Leah felt uncomfortable about the whole thing, but didn’t complain. Their niece was fun, yes, but she was also a whirlwind of youthful energy that Leah wasn't entirely sure they could keep up with. Especially now, when their own lives felt like they were held together with dental floss and optimism.
She'd spent the morning hiding evidence of their financial struggles—past-due notices tucked into drawers, their wall of failed business cards discreetly removed, the "vision board" relocated to Tess's room. The last thing they needed was for Kaitlyn to report back to her mother about their situation. Gretchen, their older sister, had already made her opinions about their "midlife crisis" quite clear.
A car horn beeped outside, and Tess shot to her feet, dropping the magazine. "Speak of the devil!" She practically bounced to the door, her enthusiasm genuine despite everything else going on in their lives.
Leah followed her to the door, where they found Kaitlyn climbing out of her car, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. She pulled a floral suitcase from the trunk with dramatic flair, flashing the driver a smile that could have been plucked straight from a travel commercial. Everything about her screamed "influencer in training," from her perfectly coordinated resort wear to the professional-looking camera hanging around her neck.
"Aunties!" Kaitlyn exclaimed, her voice lilting with exaggerated enthusiasm as she bounded up the steps, managing to look both effortlessly casual and carefully composed—a skill that seemed to come naturally to her generation.
Tess opened her arms wide, pulling Kaitlyn into a hug that nearly toppled them both. The smell of expensive perfume—something with notes of coconut and vanilla—wafted between them. "Look at you, Miss College Graduate! All grown up and ready to take on the world."
Kaitlyn stepped back, laughing, though something flickered behind her carefully maintained smile. "Or at least ready to take on Key West. This place is so cute. I can already see my Instagram blowing up. My followers are going to love it." She gestured to the street, where a group of tourists on bikes pedaled past, their matching helmets bobbing in the sun. "It's like a movie set or something."
Leah smiled warmly as Kaitlyn leaned in to hug her. Up close, she could see the slight shadows under Kaitlyn's eyes, barely concealed by expensive makeup. Something about her sunny demeanor felt forced, like she was putting on a show for an invisible audience.
"How was the trip?" Leah asked, noting how Kaitlyn's designer sundress looked fresh despite the long drive. Some people just had a gift for appearing perfectly put together, no matter the circumstances.
"Long," Kaitlyn said, wrinkling her nose. "But worth it. I'm so excited to be here. Mom's been driving me crazy with all her 'responsible adult' lectures. It's like, hello, I just graduated. I need time to figure things out, you know?"
"Well, we're excited to have you," Leah said, helping with the suitcase that probably cost more than their monthly rent. "Though I should warn you, it's not all beaches and cocktails. Key West has its own…rhythm."
"Why would you say something so cruel?" Tess teased, guiding Kaitlyn inside. "Let the girl live in bliss for a few hours before reality sets in. Remember how excited we were when we first got here?"
"That was different," Leah muttered, but neither of them seemed to hear her.
Inside, Kaitlyn's eyes darted around the living room, taking in the seashell decor and slightly worn furniture. Her expression was carefully neutral, but Leah caught the slight raise of her eyebrows—the same look Gretchen got when confronted with something she found beneath her standards. She plopped onto the sofa, kicking off her sandals with a carefree sigh that seemed practiced.
"This is perfect," Kaitlyn said, stretching her arms over her head. "It's so laid-back. Totally Key West vibes. Very…authentic." She pulled out her phone, angling it to capture the room's best features.
Leah exchanged a glance with Tess, who shrugged as if to say, "Just let her enjoy it." They'd both become experts at reading between the lines of polite comments about their living situation.
“How about some iced tea?” Tess asked.
“I’d love some,” Kaitlyn responded, looking around the room. “So, where will I sleep?”
Leah smiled. “You’re sitting on it. That’s a pull-out.”
“Oh, that’s perfect. I hope I’m not putting you out.”
“Don’t be silly, we’re thrilled to have you,” Tess answered.
They moved outside to the small area with a table and four chairs. Kaitlyn shared stories about her college years and the endless drama of her sorority sisters. Each tale seemed crafted for maximum entertainment value, like episodes of a reality show.
"And then Madison—you remember Madison from my Christmas posts, right?—she totally freaked out because Kyle liked someone else's photo from like, three years ago." Kaitlyn paused for dramatic effect, stirring her tea with a practiced flourish. "It was this whole thing. But honestly? I think she was just stressed about not having a job lined up. Everyone's so obsessed with having their lives figured out right after graduation."
Leah caught the slight tremor in Kaitlyn's voice. Maybe their niece wasn't as carefree as she wanted them to believe.
"So," Kaitlyn said, flipping her hair over one shoulder, "what's the plan for tomorrow? Beach day? Shopping? Maybe some nightlife? I need content for my travel highlights reel."
Leah hesitated, glancing at Tess. They hadn't exactly planned for entertainment—their budget barely covered groceries these days. "Actually, we have work tonight."
Kaitlyn's expression flickered with surprise, her carefully maintained facade cracking slightly. "Work? I thought you guys were, like, retired or something. Mom said you'd cashed out your retirement accounts to move here."
Tess laughed, though the sound was slightly forced. "Oh, sweetie, no. The island life isn't quite as glamorous as it looks on Instagram. We've taken a job at Margarita Max's."
"A bar? That's so fun!" Kaitlyn said, clapping her hands together, recovering her enthusiasm with impressive speed. "Can I come watch? I'll be your biggest cheerleader. Maybe we could do a behind-the-scenes series—'Key West After Dark' or something?"
"It's not exactly spectator-friendly," Leah said, softening her words with a smile. "But maybe another time. When we're more…settled in."
Kaitlyn leaned back, pouting slightly. "Well, if you're busy, I guess I'll have to explore on my own." She brightened suddenly. "Actually, that might be better for content. More authentic, you know?"
"Careful with that," Tess said, her tone light but her eyes serious. "Key West might seem small, but it's easy to get lost in all the…distractions. It's not exactly like spring break in Miami."
Kaitlyn grinned mischievously. "I think I can handle it. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? It's not like I'm going to join a pirate crew or something." She paused, considering. "Although that would make amazing content."
Leah finally asked the question she’d been dying to ask. “Honey, does your mother know you’re here?”
Kaitlyn frowned, clearly not thrilled to answer. “I haven’t talked to my mother since graduation if that’s what you’re asking. You know how things are with her. We haven’t always seen things the same way.”
“I understand that, but maybe…”
She cut Leah off. “Do we have to talk about Mom right now?”
Leah shook her head. “No, we don’t. Let’s get you unpacked and set up a space for your things. How does that sound?”
Kaitlyn smiled. “It sounds perfect to me.”
It wasn’t long before Kaitlyn found a friend. Leah peeked out the window and saw her niece chatting animatedly with a man carrying a crate of bananas—likely one of the local vendors. Kaitlyn gestured wildly, her bright energy practically radiating off her, though Leah noticed she kept adjusting her pose to catch the best morning light.
"She's making friends already," Tess said, appearing beside Leah with a steaming mug of coffee. "Told you she'd fit right in. Though I'm pretty sure she's already posted more photos than we have in a year."
Leah nodded, though a small part of her couldn't shake the feeling that Kaitlyn's carefree attitude would clash with the reality of their lives here. The girl in those carefully filtered photos seemed worlds away from their soon-to-be, sticky-floored existence at Margarita Max's.
“I’m worried about her,” Leah said.
“What? Why? She seems perfectly fine to me,” Tess said. “And if you look at her photos online, you’d think she was the happiest young lady on the planet.”
Leah nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I think those photos don’t tell the whole story.”
As the afternoon unfolded, Kaitlyn announced her intention to explore on foot, armed with her camera and what looked like a professional lighting attachment. She declined their offer to join her, insisting she wanted to "get a feel for the place" on her own first. "Sometimes you have to let a place speak to you," she said with the wisdom of someone who'd read too many travel blogs.
Leah and Tess spent the afternoon preparing for their shift at Margarita Max's, trading nervous jokes about surviving Trivia Tuesday. "Maybe we should warn Connie about our social media sensation niece," Tess suggested. "Before she tries to turn ladies' night into a viral moment."
"Remember," Connie said as she handed Tess and Leah their new name tags, "tonight's Trivia Tuesday. Should be easy enough for your first shift." She paused, eyeing their matching black shirts with the bar's logo. "Just don't let anyone convince you that 'Margaritaville' is the answer to every question."
Leah adjusted her shirt, already feeling the humidity seeping through the fabric. "How bad can it be?"
Two hours later, she had her answer. The bar was packed, mostly with a rowdy group wearing matching t-shirts proclaiming, "Linda's Last Brain Cell Before the Ring!" They'd taken over the trivia corner, and their answers were getting more creative with each round of drinks.
"The capital of Florida is…" the trivia host announced.
"MARGARITAVILLE!" the bachelorette party shouted in unison.
"That's wrong for the fifth time." The host sighed. "And it wasn't right for 'Who wrote the Declaration of Independence?' either."
Tess skillfully navigated through the crowd with a tray of elaborate cocktails, her former yoga instructor balance coming in handy. "You know what?" she called to Leah over the noise. "I think I've found my calling. Watch this!" She did a little spin, not spilling a drop. "Years of failed dance classes finally paying off!"
"The inventor of electricity was…" the host began.
"JIMMY BUFFETT!" came the enthusiastic response.
"That's not even close," the host muttered into his microphone.
The door chimed, and Leah looked up to see Kaitlyn entering with her camera ready. "Oh no."
"Oh yes!" Kaitlyn beamed, already framing a shot. "This is perfect! Raw, authentic Key West nightlife! My followers will love?—"
She was cut off by a splash as one of Linda's bridesmaids accidentally backed into Tess, sending a tray of rainbow-colored shots in all directions. Tess managed to stay upright but now sparkled with what appeared to be several different flavors of vodka.
"I'm so sorry!" the bridesmaid gasped. "But wait…this is actually a great look for you. Very island chic!"
Connie appeared with a towel, barely concealing her amusement. "Welcome to Margarita Max's," she said dryly. "Where every night is an adventure, and somebody always ends up wearing the drinks instead of drinking them."
"The first person to walk on the moon was…" the host tried again.
"JIMMY BUFFETT!"
"I'm not even sure how to respond to that," the host said, looking at his cards in despair.
Kaitlyn had positioned herself in a corner, documenting everything. "This is amazing! The authentic struggle of two women finding their way in paradise! I'm thinking of calling it 'From Corporate to Cocktails: A Key West Journey.'"
"If you post any of this," Leah warned, wiping what she hoped was just pineapple juice from her arm, "we'll tell your mother where you are."
Kaitlyn lowered her camera slightly. "You wouldn't."
"Try me," Leah said, just as Linda's party decided to start an impromptu conga line through the bar.
"Okay, final question," the trivia host announced, sounding relieved. "What is the chemical formula for water?"
"TEQUILA!"
"That's…actually more creative than Margaritaville," the host conceded. "Still wrong, but I appreciate the effort."
By the end of their shift, Tess had mastered the art of dodge-serving (a necessary skill when half the customers were doing the Macarena), Leah had learned seventeen different ways to say "No, we don't have Jimmy Buffett's private phone number, and besides, he’s dead," and Kaitlyn had enough material for a full documentary series.
"See?" Tess said as they counted their tips. "This wasn't so bad!"
"You're still sparkling from the glitter in those bachelorette party shots," Leah pointed out.
"I know! Free body glitter. This job has benefits we never even considered."
Connie shook her head. "You two might actually survive here. After a few weeks, you should be able to work the eleven to four shift. Just remember—tomorrow is Wannabe Wednesday. The karaoke machines have seen things you can't unsee."
"Can I come document that too?" Kaitlyn asked hopefully.
"NO!" all three women responded in unison.
Kaitlyn shrugged. “Fine. I’m headed out to check out more on Duval Street. I saw there’s a haunted trolley ride. I might do that. Can I have the key to your place?”
Leah grabbed her purse and found her keys. Throwing them to Kaitlyn she yelled, “Catch! Have fun. We’ll most likely be in bed by the time you come home.”
“I’m starving. I know it’s late but my stomach has been begging for food the last hour. Do you mind if we stay and eat an appetizer before heading home?” Tess asked.
“Sounds good to me. Let’s sit in the corner out of the way though. I don’t want anyone thinking we’re working.”
They had fried conch fritters and twice-baked potatoes and when Leah asked for the bill, Connie refused their money. “You earned those appetizers, but next time come to work with a full belly.”
“I guess they don’t want the help sitting out here with everyone else,” Tess said.
Leah laughed, “Either that, or they don’t want to keep giving us free food.”
As they walked the few blocks to their house, Tess grabbed Leah’s arm.
“By the way, did you hear Connie say eleven to four? Did I hear that right?”
Leah nodded. “Yup, you sure did.”
“Oh, Leah, I don’t know about this. Tonight was hard enough, I can’t see myself staying awake until four in the morning. I think this job is meant for younger people. My feet are killing me.”
Leah chuckled, “Let’s just take this one shift at a time. Who knows? We might not even last a week.”
When Tess and Leah returned home, exhausted but still sparkling slightly from the night's misadventures at Max's, they found Kaitlyn curled up on the sofa, fast asleep. Her phone had slipped from her hand, open to a draft of a post about "finding authentic island experiences."
“I thought she was going to check out Duval Street?” Tess said.
Leah smiled. “It was a long day for her, driving for hours. Her body gave out before her spirit did.”
“What’s this?” Tess asked, picking up a brochure from the floor.
“Let me see that,” Leah said.
“This is that Paradise Harbor House we saw yesterday. It’s a shelter for displaced families. I was reading about it online. How funny that she went there.”
"Well, she wanted adventure, it looks like she's already found one," Tess whispered, draping a blanket over Kaitlyn. She brushed some leftover party glitter from her shirt, adding softly, "Though I'm not sure it's the one she was expecting."
Leah stared at the brochure, her thoughts swirling despite her exhaustion from their first shift. On the inside of the pamphlet was the same blue sign that had caught her attention earlier, the same sense of purpose she'd noticed in the woman on the porch. Despite Kaitlyn’s earlier enthusiasm about documenting their bartending debut, she'd apparently found something else to capture her attention.
Tomorrow would bring another shift at Margarita Max's, another day of pretending they had everything under control. But for now, watching Kaitlyn sleep peacefully on their worn sofa,
Leah allowed herself to hope that their niece's arrival might be more than just another complication in their increasingly complicated lives. After all, if they could survive their first night of Trivia Tuesday, maybe anything was possible.