Chapter 3
Chapter Three
E stella 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 sweetheart and 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.
Essie typed out a quick reply to her daughter. Do I want to look?
Probably not. But you should.
Essie glanced over her shoulder, into the house. There was no sign that Frank was awake yet. While she wasn’t hiding anything from him, she was trying to protect him from this current situation.
She knew it would upset him. Before she and Frank had even gotten engaged, he’d talked to Sophie and Chad about how no one would ever replace their mother, but how he needed companionship and was tired of being alone.
His wife, Stacia, had been gone for nearly nine years. It wasn’t like the funeral had been yesterday.
Chad, the eldest, had been genuinely happy for them both and had stood as Frank’s best man. Sophie hadn’t come to the wedding, making up an excuse about how she’d already had a trip with her girlfriends planned.
Essie had no idea how to make the situation better and she was fast losing hope it was even possible.
Reluctantly, she opened TikTok and found Sophie’s channel, then looked for what she’d posted today.
Sophie was wearing a very short, pink, baby doll-style dress cinched under her breasts, which were on display.
She’d paired the dress with platform stiletto heels.
Her makeup was elaborate and sparkly, her platinum blond extensions done in braids that came down to her waist, where they were finished off with bows.
“I’m off to do a little shopping. What do you think of my outfit?” She did a slow spin, lips pouted. “I’d love to find some new dresses today because I really need cheering up.”
She stuck her lower lip out and came closer to the camera. “I think you-know-who is spending my father’s fortune, which means there won’t be anything left for me.”
Essie gasped. She was you-know-who . But she absolutely was not spending Frank’s money. Yes, he was a wealthy man. The paper company he’d inherited from his father made exceptionally good money. In fact, they were opening a division in Italy.
On top of the business, he was a wise investor, but Essie had a substantial pension and had done some investing herself.
When her husband passed, she hadn’t needed the insurance money, so she’d turned a good portion of it over to her son, Albie, who’d gone heavily into cryptocurrency.
It wasn’t something Essie knew much about, but he’d more than doubled what she’d given him.
For Sophie to imply that Essie was spending all of Frank’s money was ludicrous. Anger rose up in Essie unlike anything she’d felt before. But what could she do? Tell Frank? He’d only get furious, too, and that wouldn’t be good for his blood pressure.
She was a smart woman. She could figure this out. She hoped.
What really bothered her was the thought that if Sophie was putting such things out in public, what kind of things was she saying to her father in private? Or maybe she wasn’t saying anything to Frank. Maybe she was funneling all of her vitriol into her social media.
Another text from Liliana. Did you look?
Yes. She’s unbelievable. Frank and I both came into this marriage with solid finances.
I know, Mom. You don’t have to justify anything to me.
I’m not justifying anything. When I want something, I use my own money!
I wasn’t implying you were doing otherwise.
Essie took a breath. I’m sorry. This has upset me.
I can imagine. You need to talk to Frank.
I can’t. It will only upset him.
Do you want me to do it? He doesn’t have to know you’ve seen it.
No! I ? —
The door opened and Frank stepped out, a cup of coffee in his hand. “Morning, sweetheart.”
She tucked her phone next to her leg and smiled. “Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Like a baby. You?” He sat next to her, staring out at the water, his placid expression bringing her peace.
“I slept great.” She drank her coffee, which had cooled since she’d come out here.
He took a big sip from his cup, then sighed in contentment. “You think we did the right thing? Moving here, I mean. We could have had a big house on the water.”
She laughed to hide the concern his question had raised in her.
“We have a small house on the water. It’s not much different.
Except there’s less to clean and maintain.
” Although at a thousand-twenty-five square feet with another six-hundred square feet of porch space, they had the largest tiny house plan the community offered.
He smiled. “True. And I like this minimalist lifestyle. It’s an interesting way to live. Makes you really think about what’s important.”
“I agree.” She almost laughed. Besides the house, they had a boat at the nearby marina, and it slept six. There was also a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains with four bedrooms. If they needed a change of scenery, there was no shortage of places to go.
Her smile faded. That boat and that cabin were just as accessible to Sophie and her brother as they were to Essie and Frank.
Which made Essie think Sophie was starting trouble for trouble’s sake.