He nodded and looked back at the stage. He’d tried hard with the impromptu dinner and the special song, but he wasn’t an emotional man, and I needed to accept that if I planned to stick with this relationship.
“It’s not sentimental, no, no, no,” belted Robert Albury, staring right at me.
When he’d finished the song, I looked back at Nathan to thank him. He handed me a pale-blue box, about the right size for a watch or a necklace—definitely not a ring—tied up with a white ribbon.
“I have something for you.”
“What’s this?”
“Open it,” Nathan said.
I untied the ribbon and took off the lid. A key. I looked up, feeling confused. I already knew where he hid the spare key to his equally spare apartment. Not anywhere a normal person would choose, by the way. Not underneath a potted plant by the door or hanging from a nail on the fence, for example.
“What is this for? Don’t tell me you bought me that yacht after all?”
“I bought the houseboat next door to yours,” he said. “You’ve made it very plain that you won’t move out, so I’m moving in.”
“But you hate Houseboat Row,” I said, still not understanding why he’d even consider such a move.
“You’ve probably noticed that my job isolates me. But you bring me back to the world. I see the worst that people do to each other. And you see the best.”
He continued, “You’ve stayed at my apartment. I’m not good at making a place feel like home.”
He was right about that—guy-style leather furniture, a minimally stocked kitchen, and nothing on the walls. One time earlier in our relationship, I’d stayed over and offered to make scrambled eggs in the morning. I’d found his kitchen lacking butter, salt, pepper, and a spatula. Even his little dog, Ziggy Stardust, spent as much time out of the house as he could manage.
“If Houseboat Row is home to you, I know it will become home to me.”
“So what,” I joked, “you can borrow a cup of sugar from our kitchen when you need it and call the cops if we’re having too much fun?”
And then he blurted it out. “Do you want to get married? We can live next door to Miss Gloria and you can keep an eye on her and have coffee on her deck every morning. She can come to dinner every night if you want. And I can stay awake all night because of the incessant rocking of the damn boat and the yakking of your oddball neighbors.” He crooked a heartbreaking smile.
I leaned back, flabbergasted, trying to process the words. I certainly hadn’t guessed this when he’d asked me out for drinks and dinner. I was almost embarrassed to admit—even to myself—that I’d thought maybe he needed me to go undercover in one of his pending cases.
Robert Albury rumbled into his microphone, “I believe this fellow asked you a question. Something about getting married.”
“Married?” I started to giggle hysterically as it sunk in. “You and me?”
Nathan’s face got very stern. “You and me. Though we should probably talk about the fact that I’m a cop, and what that might mean for you, as my wife.”
His wife? My head said, Slow down and think about it, but my heart said something altogether different. “Absolutely!” I threw my arms around Nathan and gave him a big kiss. The crowd around us cheered and clapped.
He let me go and glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get to the station for the SWAT training. I can’t skip it because I’m in charge. How about you talk to your ladies and get back to me with the details? No monkey suit, remember? That one’s nonnegotiable.”
I could feel myself grinning from ear to ear. “No monkey suit; it’s a deal! Can we walk out through Mallory Square so I can tell Lorenzo?”
We forded the crowd, which had diminished since the sun set, leaving behind the harder-core party people and the buskers and vendors. We passed a man juggling fiery pins and a man preaching doom and damnation from a worn Bible. Lorenzo’s table was set up on the small alley perpendicular to those lined up along the water. I remembered that spaces were assigned according to seniority and who showed up when on a particular night. Maybe he’d arrived late, or maybe he preferred the modicum of privacy this allowed his customers. His current customer was getting up from the table, wringing Lorenzo’s hand and thanking him profusely. I waited until he was gone, then stepped in to hug my friend.
“We won’t keep you,” I said, “but wanted to let you know that we’re getting married.” Wow, those words sounded weird coming out of my mouth.
Nathan flashed a shy smile and Lorenzo clapped and then blew him a kiss. “Seems to me you drew a two of cups in your last reading. I may have even asked if something was up.” Eyes twinkling, he came out from behind the card table to hug me again. I watched as he then hugged Nathan and planted a big kiss on his cheek, which was absolutely crimson.
“You’re always a step ahead,” I said to my friend. “More to come on plans later. I have to go tell Mom and Miss Gloria.” I paused, glancing between the two men. “Hey, what about tarot readings at our wedding reception?”
Nathan winced and Lorenzo and I burst out laughing.
Nathan dropped me off in the Tarpon Pier parking lot, then got out of the car to give me a sweet kiss.
I felt another huge grin nearly splitting my face in two. “Are you sure you don’t want to come to the boat with me and make the announcement?”
“I’d love to, but I’m already late.” He quirked a little Nathan smile, pointing at his watch. Then he wheeled around to his cruiser, which he’d left running.
And I went skipping up the finger to our houseboat, squealing like Snorkel the Pig, another of my favorite acts on Mallory Square.
“Guess what?” I flung my arms around my mother, and then Connie, and Sam, and finally my octogenarian roommate, Miss Gloria, nearly knocking the glass of wine out of her hand. “I’m getting married.”
“To whom?” Miss Gloria asked with a poker-straight face.
Then she burst into cackles of laughter and leapt up to join Connie and my mother in a group hug.
“So he finally popped the question,” said my mother. But then a worried look flitted across her face. “Don’t tell me you asked him.”
“Not to worry.” My mother had a major superstition about asking men for their hand in marriage. According to an informal survey of her friends and their daughters, all the marriages that started that way had ended in divorce within the first year.
So I described how Nathan had set up the night with the singer and the dinner and how two people had vacated their seats at just the right moment. “I think I recognized one of them. He must have arranged for them to hold those stools until we arrived and then get up and leave.”
“Who knew he was a romantic deep down inside?” Connie asked. “Where is he, anyway?”
I explained about the emergency SWAT training.
“Is there a ring?” Miss Gloria asked. “Don’t mean to be greedy, but we’d love to see if he delivered the goods. And I’m aware it’s not fair that men are judged on the quality of their proposal and engagement ring. By the way, Nathan gets an A, maybe A minus, for his. I would have liked to see a ring on your finger.”
“We’re going to pick that out later. He was afraid to choose something I wouldn’t like. And he didn’t ask you, because he suspected that none of you would be able to keep a secret.”
My mother and Miss Gloria immediately began to protest.
“Don’t take it personally. Remember, he’s a cop. That job would make anyone suspicious about leaks. But in the meantime, he gave me something even better.” I pulled the box out of my pocket and handed it to Miss Gloria. She held it to her ear and shook it, and the key inside rattled against the cardboard. She took the lid off.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a key to our neighbor’s houseboat.” I pointed next door, where the dreaded SOLD! sign hung, flapping in the little breeze that had kicked up. “He bought it so we could move in and live next door to you, forever.”
/> Her eyes filled with tears. “He hates Houseboat Row.”
“I know, but he loves me and he knows that I love you.” I tucked her into a full-body squeeze.
“I’m impressed with that man. That’s the sweetest proposal I’ve ever heard,” said Connie.
“Ditto,” said Mom, passing her phone off to Sam and taking her turn with a hug. “Will you call Eric and Bill right now and ask them to bring over some champagne? This is so exciting! Where and when will you get married and who will officiate?”
“We haven’t gotten that far,” I said. “I don’t mean any offense, but not during the hurricane season.” I winked at Sam. “But definitely Reverend Steve Torrence.”
“Hadn’t you better call him right away?” my mother asked.
I thought we probably had time, but on the other hand, it was so much fun to tell this news. So I dialed him up. “Nathan proposed and I said yes! Did you know about this? Did you coach him on how to do this? Because it was very, very romantic. And of course, I want you to do the ceremony.”
He sputtered with laughter and assured me he’d had nothing to do with it. “Of course I’ll do your wedding. I’ll make sure to be available. Congratulations. I hope you’ll be very happy!”
Bill and Eric arrived at our place shortly after with a couple of bottles of prosecco. After another round of hugging, Bill said, “I’m sure I could get you a discount on a wedding at the Little White House. Bob couldn’t be more grateful. Two of the attendees at the opening party came through with surprise donations. Massive donations that could fund our future for decades. Instead of getting canned, he’s receiving a special letter of commendation from the board. And they’ve asked the mayor to read a similar proclamation.”
“But take your time,” Eric said. “Hopefully you’ll have only one wedding, and you should enjoy the process.”
“You’re so smart,” I said to Eric. And then I reached for the hands of Miss Gloria and my mother. “I can’t wait for one more second to see what Nathan bought.”
“Let the ladies go first,” Sam suggested. “It doesn’t look big enough to hold all of us.”
I hopped off the deck, with Miss Gloria and my mother and Connie and the two cats behind me, and then onto the deck of the boat next door. My hands were shaking as I inserted the key into the lock and pushed open the door.
A living area lay just inside, separated from the kitchen by a short bar. The walls were paneled with the kind of old-fashioned faux-wood that people used to plaster over the cement walls in their basements, and the floor was covered with orange honest-to-god shag carpet. It smelled like someone’s cellar, too. And the prior owners had clearly never turned on an exhaust fan while frying.
“Wow,” I said, my heart sinking like a grease-saturated fritter. “This place is a dump.”
“It needs lots of work—lots of things need to be ripped right out and replaced, and you’ll need some decorating advice from your mother,” said my mom.
After a quick tour of the two bedrooms in back and the small bath, all of which my mother and Miss Gloria insisted could be fixed, we headed back home.
“It’s a dog, but we’ll renovate and send the bills to the fiancé. Quickly, before he changes his mind,” said Miss Gloria, giggling. “But as my Frank would have said, it’s got excellent bones. Imagine cedar or reclaimed Dade County pine on the walls and floors. Built-ins everywhere. And a whole new kitchen with a double oven. Not a Kidcraft mini-kitchen like you have at my place.”
“I love your place,” I said. “It’s home to me.”
“This will become home,” she said, beaming. “And people say you’ve got the best neighbors!”
Recipes
Mojito
Before I began spending half the year in Key West, I had never tasted a mojito, never mind made one. But now it’s my new favorite drink. What spells tropical paradise better than the combination of lemons, limes, mint, and rum? Add a splash of bitters and a Key West mystery and you’re on vacation—but without the hassle of airports, freeways, and bank-busting expenses! Janet Snow and her gang served these at the opening party …
1 lime, sliced
1 lemon, sliced
4 to 5 sprigs fresh mint
2 teaspoons sugar
1 to 2 ounces rum, depending on how strong you want the drink
Club soda
Ice
Bitters
Start by crushing several slices of lime, several slices of lemon, the mint, and the sugar in the bottom of an old-fashioned glass. Add the rum and stir. Fill the glass with ice. Cover the ice with club soda. Mix all that together and add a splash of bitters on top.
Ropa Vieja (Old Clothes)
Some people consider this to be the national dish of Cuba. I made it for friends, one of whose family came from Cuba. I felt honored and relieved when he announced that it tasted like the dish his mother used to make.
3 pounds flank steak, cut into chunks
Salt and black pepper to taste
Olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
2 bell peppers, thinly sliced
6 ounces tomato paste
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tablespoon dried oregano
5 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 bay leaf
½ cup dry white wine
2 cups beef stock
1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
½ cup halved, pitted green olives
⅓ cup sliced jarred pimiento peppers
3 tablespoons capers, rinsed and drained
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
¼ cup roughly chopped cilantro
Season the steak with a little salt and pepper. Working in batches, cook the meat in hot olive oil in a frying pan until browned on both sides, about 6 minutes. Remove the meat to a stockpot. Add onion and peppers to the pan; sauté until soft, about 4 minutes. Add tomato paste, cumin, oregano, garlic, and bay leaf; cook until lightly caramelized, about 3 minutes. Add wine; cook, scraping bottom of pot, for 1 minute. Add this mixture to stockpot along with stock and tomatoes. After bringing the liquid to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low; cook, covered, until steak is very tender, 2 to 3 hours.
Refrigerate overnight. Skim the fat, then remove the steak. Shred the meat using two forks. Add this back to the pot with the olives, pimientos, capers, and vinegar. Cook until sauce is slightly thickened, about 30 minutes. Stir in cilantro before serving with white rice and black beans.
Aunt Estela's Flan
Homemade flan is an incredible treat. Analise Smith (Key West Food Tours) told me that she plans to serve her aunt’s flan at her wedding reception (instead of cake) when that day comes. This is her Aunt Estela’s actual recipe. It makes a lot!
8 (8-ounce) cans sweetened condensed milk
8 (8-ounce) cans evaporated milk
16 eggs
1 (16 Oz) large bottle imitation vanilla extract
2 pounds sugar
2 large cafeteria-sized baking pans, one bigger than the other
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Fill the larger baking pan with enough water so that the smaller pan fits inside it without the water spilling out. Place the smaller pan on two burners so that the pan can get warm. In a pot, whisk the condensed milk, evaporated milk, eggs, and vanilla and set aside. In another pot, melt the sugar over low heat until it turns into a caramel mixture. (Do not burn.) Pour into the top baking pan and spread around to cover the bottom and sides of the pan. Place top pan in the larger baking pan, then pour the egg-milk mixture on top of the melted sugar. Bake for 1 hour, then start checking every 15 minutes until a knife inserted in the center of the custard comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let it cool. Cover and place overnight in the fridge. To serve, take a butter knife around the edge to loosen the flan from the pan; place a serving tray over the pan and flip it over. Pour any excess caramel sugar over the flan. Cut, serve, and enjoy!
Cuban Roast Pork, Mojo Style
Roas
ted pork is a common menu item in Cuban restaurants and also the basis for the Cuban mix sandwich, found in many Key West and other Florida restaurants and now available across the country. It doesn’t hurt to make a big roast so you have leftovers for the sandwich.
The part of the recipe that differentiates Cuban roast from that of other nationalities is the long marinating time, most commonly in sour orange juice. Though that juice is often not available in the United States, a combination of orange and lime juices makes a good substitute.
1¼ cups orange juice
¾ cup freshly squeezed lime juice
¼ cup white wine
1 large onion, peeled and sliced
12 cloves garlic
1 tablespoon olive oil
Handful fresh cilantro
Handful fresh mint
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 teaspoons salt
5-pound pork roast—mine was boneless
Mix the orange juice, lime juice, wine, and onion in a large pot or bowl. Nestle the pork roast in the liquids.
Mash the garlic, herbs, spices, salt, and olive oil together into a paste and spread this over the pork. Marinate in the refrigerator for 24 hours.
The next day, place the pork in a baking dish, pour the marinade around it, and roast at 325 degrees for about 2 hours or until meat thermometer reaches 170 degrees. You may also turn the oven up to 400 degrees and brown the top before serving.
Cuban Mix Sandwiches
As Hayley herself says, you could eat Cuban sandwiches (aka Cuban mix, aka Cubanos) every day for a year in Key West and still not scratch the surface of all the varieties. You might try a sandwich at each establishment, as Hayley and Miss Gloria do. Or, you can try making them yourself. This recipe is based on one found in Cuba! Recipes and Stories From the Cuban Kitchen by Dan Goldberg, Andrea Kuhn, and Jody Eddy (Ten Speed Press, 2016).
One large loaf Cuban bread (use Italian if you can’t find Cuban)
Slices of leftover Cuban pork, mojo style
About ½ pound Swiss cheese
Death on the Menu Page 22
