Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
W ith Frank off golfing, Essie did a little light housework, then went to Publix to get groceries. Not only did she need the ingredients for the potato salad she’d promised to make for church, but she had to figure out what to bring for the book club this evening.
All while pondering what to do about Sophie and her not-so-subtle social media digs.
Essie was still angry—no, angry wasn’t really the right word. She was upset, but she was disappointed in Sophie for her conduct, and she was embarrassed for Frank.
They may not have been married long, but she knew her husband well enough to know that he would find his daughter’s actions shameful.
Sophie and her brother had never wanted for a thing in their lives. Had that contributed to Sophie’s spoiled, bratty behavior? Maybe, but Chad was a wonderful young man and deeply involved in the family paper business.
Unless he was secretly tearing Essie and Frank down on social media, too.
She stopped in the middle of the produce section and looked him up on her phone. She followed him, but he rarely posted. He was on Instagram, Facebook, and probably something else she didn’t know about. She found nothing that seemed even remotely bratty.
But then, Chad was a happily married man with two young children and a wife who doted on him. He was doing well in his father’s company. The few social media posts he’d made were about how great his life was or sharing a moment with his wife and kids.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the screen. Did Chad know what his sister was up to? He might not be on TikTok.
Essie sighed and put her phone away. It wasn’t her place to tell him. Doing that would be stirring the pot and she wanted peace, not strife.
Best she focus on keeping Frank happy and letting the rest of the world do whatever it needed to do.
If he was supposed to find out about his daughter’s nonsense, he would.
Essie gathered ingredients for the potato salad, along with a few other things she needed, then went over to the bakery section to see what looked good.
There was a nice selection of petit fours, tarts, and other small pastries on display. Maybe an assorted box of those would be all right. Book clubs weren’t fancy, were they? Didn’t the women who went to them mostly drink wine and gossip?
She hoped that wasn’t the point of this one. She didn’t like to gossip. It was mean and never made anyone feel good. She wasn’t much of a drinker, either.
She stared at the pastries as a new thought occurred to her. Was she a wet blanket? She frowned. Frank wouldn’t have married her if she was no fun. They laughed all the time.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
Essie came out of her daze of introspection. “I’d like a half dozen of the petit fours, two of the raspberry tarts, four black and white cookies, and four of those mini eclairs.”
That would make a nice presentation. She’d put them on a platter at home to really dress them up.
“Anything else, ma’am?”
“You know what, I’ll take half a dozen of those chocolate-covered strawberries as well.” Couldn’t go wrong with those and they had a lot of wow factor, as Frank would say.
She collected the two boxes and put them in her cart, then went on about her shopping.
Sophie wasn’t far from her thoughts, though.
It was such juvenile behavior. Sophie was thirty-two. Old enough to know better. Old enough to not act like a fool in public, which was exactly what she was doing, in Essie’s opinion.
Essie picked up a package of ribeyes. Frank could grill those tomorrow night for dinner. She’d make baked potatoes and green beans for the sides. He’d love that. She put them in the cart. Had Essie done something to upset the young woman? To give her a reason to act this way?
There was nothing she could think of. Outside of marrying Frank.
If one of her students had acted out like this, she would have contacted the child’s parents. But Sophie was an adult. And Essie was married to her father.
Again, she considered reaching out to Chad, but that would only cause more problems. She didn’t want to pit brother against sister or, worse, pit them both against her.
Maybe it would all blow over. Maybe in another month or so, Sophie would get used to the idea that her father had remarried and was happy.
That was a big maybe.
Essie picked up some paper towels, opting for the four pack instead of the eight. Storage in a tiny house was always something to think about, but she was getting better at it.
She liked the tiny house. She hadn’t come from money, like Frank, and there was something nostalgic about living in a smaller house. To her, it was cozy. To Frank, it was an adventure, which made her laugh.
She’d shared a bedroom with her sister until Lucia had gone off to college.
Essie understood what it meant to grow up having to work for everything.
Her father had been a janitor, her mother a nurse, and over time they’d both risen in rank and pay until her father had opened his own janitorial business.
Things had gotten easier and harder then. Easier, because the business did well and money wasn’t such a problem; harder, because he worked longer hours and was the man responsible for everything.
She was so grateful for the sacrifices her parents had made. It was why she and Lucia had paid off their parents’ mortgage as a surprise on their fiftieth wedding anniversary.
The memory made Essie smile. She’d lost her mom six years later, but her dad was still going strong. He lived in Boca Raton, and despite her best efforts, refused to move closer.
She resolved to call him when she got home and see how he was doing. Maybe in the next few weeks, she’d take a drive down to see him for a couple of days.
She paid for her things and went home. She put her groceries away and found the nicest platter she had to put the desserts on.
Frank was still out golfing and would be until at least four. He usually sat in the clubhouse with his buddies having a bite to eat and rehashing the game before he came home.
Fine with her. She loved that he had made such good friends so quickly since moving here. She had friends at church, but in the community, not so much. A few acquaintances, women she said hello to, waved at, that sort of thing, but they all seemed so busy already.
She wouldn’t mind having a few close girlfriends here. The kind of women with whom she could talk about things like Sophie.
She had the feeling that because she’d been a principal and so well connected, people thought she had more friends than she knew what to do with. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Once she’d retired, a lot of her friends, who were still working, had fallen away.
They didn’t have as much in common anymore. She supposed she understood. She wasn’t current. Couldn’t participate in conversations about what was going on unless they brought her up to speed.
It was simpler to just not include her.
She also supposed that meant those folks hadn’t really been friends, just acquaintances. Work acquaintances.
What she needed was a few women, also retired, maybe widowed, maybe with kids, maybe with a new husband, women she could relate to. Women who could relate to her.
Maybe she’d find some of those at the book club tonight.
She poured herself a glass of iced tea and went out to the porch to call her dad.
He answered on the fourth ring, and she could hear the TV blaring in the background with some game show. “Essie! How are you?”
“Papa, turn the TV down, I can barely hear you.”
“Okay, okay, just a minute.” The volume lowered. “Is that better?”
She smiled. “Yes. Now I can hear you. How are you, Papa?”
“I’m better now. How are you? How’s married life?”
He always asked her that these days. “Married life is good and so am I. I’m going to a book club tonight. What are you up to?”
“Watching Jeopardy . Improving my brain. What book are you reading for book club?”
“I don’t know yet. It’s the first meeting.”
“Tell me if it’s good. I’ll read it, too.”
“Okay, I will. What else are you doing?”
“Going to the club tonight for dinner with Estaban, then we’ll probably sit on his porch and smoke cigars.”
She laughed. “That sounds nice.” She understood why he didn’t want to move. He had friends. Good ones. Friends he’d had a long time. Most of whom had known her mother. Talking about her with them was one of the ways he kept her memory alive.
“How’s Frank?” her father asked.
“He’s good. He’s golfing with his buddies.” She thought about mentioning Sophie. Why not? Her father might have some good advice. “You remember Sophie? His daughter? You met her at the barbecue at Frank’s. Before we got married.”
“Hmm.” Her father’s response came out like a small grunt. “I remember that one. Pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside.”
“Papa!”
“It’s true, Essie. I watched that girl all day. Full of herself, talking about others, laughing behind people’s backs. What has she done now?”
“She…” Essie sighed. “Let’s just say she doesn’t like me much. And she definitely doesn’t approve of me having married her father. Thinks I’m trying to take her mother’s place, which I’m not, I assure you.”
“The problem is her father’s attention is on you now. Not her. She’s jealous.”
Essie blinked. “I never thought of it that way. What do I do?”
“Nothing,” he said nonchalantly. She could picture him shrugging in that way of his. “Jealousy comes to its own end. You’ll see.”