Results were mixed.
After hours of good conversation, pertaining mostly to Rhiannon’s childhood and Carmela’s war stories about the many deals she’d had go wrong over the years, the interstate highway ended on a two-lane road that would take them the rest of the way.
The Overseas Highway carried them over dark blue waters connecting scores of keys on their way south. Some were no bigger than a sandy football field with nothing but little wooden structures on stilts designed to weather the storms frequently battering the barrier islands.
“This is the last one,” Rhiannon said she reached for a ham and cheese roll up. “Do you want to stop for lunch?”
Carmela glanced at the time and nodded. She was in no hurry to see Jackie and her latest victim anyway. After crossing the harrowing Seven Mile Bridge over open ocean, which felt longer than the entire trip, they stopped at a wooden shack on the water claiming to have the best conch fritters in the world.
“I have terrible phone reception,” Carmela complained as she held her cellphone up in the air hoping it would help her texts go through. She couldn’t a ord to be out of reach for too long.
“I wish the weather was like this all the time,” Rhiannon said as she stretched, ignoring her concern about cell service.
After the long ride, Carmela’s body was sti too, but stretching cold like that would probably throw her back out.
Instead, she hid behind the open trunk and moved a little to get her circulation flowing and grabbed her straw hat to keep her hair from blowing all over her face.
“It’s pretty perfect,” Carmela agreed, sand slipping into her sandals as she held her dress down while they approached the service window. After a last hopeful glance at her phone that was still not working, she put it away for the time being.
When Rhiannon ordered two of everything on the menu and they sat on a bench under a Sea Grape Tree to wait for their food, Carmela was overcome with a sense of gratitude for the moment.
“I’m glad you came to your senses and finally invited me,” Rhiannon said before Carmela could reveal her own similar thoughts.
Carmela bit back a smile. “I guess you’re not the worst traveling companion I’ve ever had.”
Rhiannon chuckled. “Just wait until we actually get there.
I’m going to put all your other wedding dates to shame.”
It was a promise Carmela was both terrified and excited Rhiannon would keep.
“WELL, THIS IS EXTRAVAGANT,” Rhiannon said as they walked o the ferry and onto the small, private island. Instead of cars, golf carts whizzed around sidewalks crisscrossing a grid of tiny beach cottages painted in a variety of pale, coastal colors.
Following a hand-painted white picket sign directing them to the main building at the center, Carmela felt a rush of nerves. She looked back at the ferry, already floating away, and felt trapped. When the golf cart full of their luggage took o , they followed.
“At least I’ve got service again,” Carmela muttered as she checked her messages. In the hours she’d been cut o , she’d been inundated.
“Come on, that can wait a few minutes,” Rhiannon urged, and she reluctantly put the phone away after making sure nothing was urgent.
The walking path was flanked by impeccably manicured landscaping and intricate artistic displays constructed from living plants. Carmela had been to nice places in her life, but this was overwhelming.
“You’re going to have to let me pay for half of this,”
Rhiannon whispered as they approached the biggest building in the place, a large, white house made almost entirely of windows. “I can’t imagine what this is costing you.”
Carmela shook her head. “It’s not costing me anything,”
she managed, though her throat was dry and her voice husky. “It’s completely paid for by the happy couple.” After
a beat she added, “Pretty sure this is what my ex wanted to rub in my face by inviting me here.”
Stopping dead in her tracks, Rhiannon pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Holy shit, how much did they spend on this?” she muttered as she searched the internet. When Rhiannon’s eyes widened to the point of bulging, Carmela guessed she’d looked up the cost of an average night’s stay.
Carmela didn’t want to know. Jackie always had a fondness for material things, but this was surprising even for her. Instead of the expensive display making her jealous or whatever the point was, Carmela felt sort of sad for her.
She’d spent thousands of dollars to have her there instead of someone she actually cared about. It was pathetic.
As soon as they stepped into the building, they were greeted by an enormous portrait of Jackie and a handsome woman propped up next to a registration table.