Page 58 of Old Flames

“Aren’t you from Miami?” Leo asked, like an idiot.

“It’s where I live and work, but this is home. I’m born and raised in Key West. My parents found work in the resorts and found each other. They never left.”

“You’re a Conch!” Matty exclaimed. “We’ve been searching high and low for one.”

“Nothing special about us!” Daphne said, laughing. “We’re not Pokémon.”

Leo better understood Daphne’s willingness to spend her summers here and her devotion to the local program. But why didn’t he know this about her? They’d been friends for years. They’ll never know you. July’s words returned to him with a force that he wasn’t prepared for. If he didn’t know much about Daphne, it was because he’d never bothered to ask. His threadbare friendships kept him free from entanglement, from having to reveal too much. A habit that was quietly eroding his soul.

“Would anyone like a tour?” Daphne asked.

Leo was the first to accept her offer. He took her arm. “Show me everything.”

The tour started in the modest dining room with a hand-painted mural of a mountainous tropical landscape under a dynamic Caribbean sky. Square tables were draped in plain white cloth and fitted with ladder-back chairs. In the kitchen Daphne’s older brother, Henri, greeted them in his chef’s white coat. “Daphne speaks highly of this group,” he said. “Hope you’re hungry!”

“Always,” Matty said.

Whatever was simmering smelled delicious. Henri shared the menu. Lunch was shrimp creole with sides of white rice and plantains. If they weren’t hungry before, they were now.

A narrow hall joined the kitchen with the dining room. The walls were crammed with family photos, multiple generations of smiling faces, from posed portraits to candid pics. One grabbed Leo’s attention, a framed Polaroid of Daphne hugging a dapper Black man in a three-piece suit. The photographer captured the moment the man had closed his eyes just as Daphne leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Who’s this guy, lover girl?” Leo asked, teasing.

Daphne took a beat to compose a smile. “My fiancé, Felix.”

Predictably enough, an uproar erupted.

“You’re engaged?”

“Now you’re hiding a whole fiancé?”

“Congratulations!”

“When’s the wedding?”

“Thanks, everyone,” she said. “There won’t be a wedding. Sadly, my Felix passed away.”

A chilly silence spread through the group. No one dared breathe. Never had they been more aware of death than over this fun-filled weekend in the sun. The Reaper was on their heels.

“It was a while ago,” Daphne explained. “We would’ve been married seven years if I hadn’t lost him in a car crash.” In typical Daphne fashion, she pivoted. “That’s why I worry about you, Leo, crisscrossing the country and that death trap you bought off the internet. Please be careful, okay?”

Leo couldn’t play along. He hugged her and promised to drive carefully, anything to ease her mind. When he pulled away, Daphne cleared her throat and composed yet another smile.

“That’s enough!” she said. “This is our last quiet meal together, just us. Tomorrow, you’ll take off in different directions. I should know. I handled the travel arrangements. Like my brother said, you are a special group. I’ve never had this much fun, and I sincerely hope you’ll come back and visit soon.”

Naturally, this prompted a group hug, initiated by Vicky.

Despite himself, Leo sought out Jules. They’d barely exchanged a word all day yet had found ways to check in on each other. Their eyes locked, briefly. When she turned away, she had his heart.

“Alright. I need help joining a few tables,” Daphne said, looking around. “Hey! Where’s Sebastien?”

“Oh!” Matty exclaimed. “Do I have a story for you!”

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Sunday, March 25

July Levy Jones