She picked up his empty plate, noting how he’d cleaned it completely. At least his appetite seemed healthy enough. The morning sun streamed through the bay windows, highlighting the fresh flowers she’d placed on the tables. A good breakfast could do wonders for the spirit—her grandmother had taught her that—and she’d seen it proven true countless times over her years running Bayside.
“More coffee, Mrs. Clifton?” she asked the elderly woman at the corner table.
“Yes, thank you, dear.” The woman hesitated, then continued. “I was wondering… I’m enjoying the island. I thought I might stay longer. Would it be possible to keep my room for a few more weeks? I have some… decisions to make and need more time.”
“Yes, of course. We do have the availability. I’ll put you down for, say, two more weeks? You let me know if you need longer.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Clifton smiled, then turned her attention to her newly filled coffee cup.
She wasn’t sure what was up with Mrs. Clifton. She’d been here two weeks. In and out most days. The woman mentioned some long beach walks and browsing around on the boardwalk.
Maybe another guest looking for something or just needing a break.
She gathered a few more dishes and carried them to the kitchen. The routine of running the B&B kept her grounded, even as her thoughts drifted to her newest guest, Mark. There was an air about him that reminded her of herself after losing her husband at a young age—that lost look, the way he seemed to be searching for something he couldn’t quite find or maybe he didn’t even know what he was looking for.
The sound of Felicity’s footsteps as she entered the kitchen broke through her reverie.
“Morning, Gran. Need help with those dishes?”
“I’ve got them, sweetheart.”
“No, let me help.” Felicity grabbed a dish towel anyway, falling into their familiar rhythm of wash and dry. “Was that Mr. Donovan I saw heading out?”
“Yes, I suggested he might enjoy exploring the island today.”
“You and your suggestions.” Felicity bumped her shoulder playfully. “Always trying to fix everyone who comes through those doors.”
“I do not.” Darlene handed her another plate, then grinned. “Well, maybe I do. But I simply believe everyone deserves a chance to find what they’re looking for. Even if they don’t know what that is yet.”
The door to the lighthouse creaked as Mark stepped inside. Sunlight filtered through the narrow windows, casting geometric patterns on the weathered steps that spiraled upward. His footsteps echoed in the confined space as he began his ascent, one hand trailing along the curved wall.
By the third turn, his breathing grew slightly labored. Sarah would have teased him about needing more exercise. The thoughtalmostcame naturally now, without the usual sharp edge of grief. And that surprised him. He paused, letting the observation settle over him—and to catch his breath.
He continued and climbed higher and higher until he reached the door to the observation platform encircling the structure. He stepped out, and a gust of wind buffeted him, tugging at his shirt and tousling his graying hair. He gripped the railing, steadying himself against the sudden force.
From this vantage point, the vast expanse of the sea stretched out before him, an endless view of turquoise blue fading into the distance as the sea met the horizon. Sunlight glinted off the water, creating a shimmering glow that danced with each gentle wave. The rhythmic sound of the surf against the rocks below filled his ears, a constant and soothing melody.
As he gazed out at the ocean, a sense of peace settled over him, as if the wind was gently washing away the jumbled thoughts and heavy emotions that were weighing him down. The grief that had clung to him like a second skin seemed to loosen its grip, allowing him to breathe a little easier.
In this moment, it felt like it was just him, the ocean, and the brilliant sunshine. The rest of the world faded away, and the pressures of his writing career and the expectations of others disappeared. He closed his eyes, inhaling the salty air deeply, letting it fill his lungs and invigorate his senses.
As the wind continued to whip around him, his thoughts drifted to Sarah and the countless memories they had shared. The ache of her absence was still there, a dull throb in his chest, but somehow, in the presence of the vast ocean and the endless sky, it felt more bearable.
He wondered what Sarah would have thought of this place, with its quaint charm and natural beauty. She had always been his anchor, his guiding light, and he knew she would have wanted him to find his way back to the passion that had once driven him. To make a life for himself.
He lifted his face skyward and reveled in the feeling of the wind and the sunshine on his skin. He stood still in the moment as a bit of lightness seeped through him. He opened his eyes again, taking in the vastness spread before him. This had been a good idea. To get outside. To explore the island. To get out of his head and his thoughts and all the pressure. He’d have to thank Darlene for the suggestion. She was a wise woman.
Chapter7
Darlene entered the back door of Coastal Coffee after closing time and found Beverly finishing up in the kitchen.
“Darlene, great to see you. What brings you here?” Beverly set down a tray of dishes.
“I’m just headed to the market to get a few things. Thought I’d pop in and say hi.”
“I’m glad you did. I still have some sweet tea made up. Would you like a glass?”
“Sure, that sounds nice.”
