“Mark, it’s been two years.” Her voice softened. “Sarah wouldn’t want you hiding away forever. The festival meant everything to her. You know how passionate she was about literacy programs and making sure everyone had access to books.”
He rubbed his face as memories washed over him. Sarah at the podium, her eyes bright as she introduced authors. Sarah working late into the night, planning every detail. Sarah’s laugh reverberating through their home as she practiced her speeches with him.
He looked over at his sister-in-law. “That’s not fair, Savannah.”
“What’s not fair is letting her legacy fade away. The festival needs you. The literacy programs need you.” She paused. “And maybe you need this too.”
“Savannah, I honestly don’t know if I can…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting to the distant horizon.
Memories of Sarah flooded his mind. Her passion for books and her staunch belief in the power of storytelling. She’d always been his biggest supporter, his guiding light. And now, with the spark of inspiration slowly rekindling within him, the words flowing once more, he couldn’t deny the feeling that she would want him to do this.
“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” She smiled, but he could see the tears she was trying so hard to hold back.
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of shared grief and memories hanging between them. She finally turned to him again and asked softly, “How are you doing? Has it been… helpful… to get away for a while?”
He nodded slowly. “It has. I’ve managed to find a bit of peace here.”
“You know I’ve been worried about you. Your agent’s been worried. A lot of people care about you. Are you… are you writing again?”
“Some.” He shifted in his chair. “It’s different now.”
“Different can be good. Sarah would be proud of you, you know. For finding your words again.”
He nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “She always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”
“I should get going,” Savannah said, rising from her chair. “But please, consider the festival. It would mean so much to everyone.”
He stood as well, walking her to the steps. “I will. And Savannah… Thank you for coming. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
She smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “We’re family, Mark. I’ll always be here for you.” She gave him a little wave and disappeared down the sidewalk.
He stood there looking out at the bay as wave after wave of emotion rolled over him. He’d just found the peace he so desperately needed here on Magnolia Key. He didn’t think he was ready to be sucked back into his old life. Go back to his old home. Deal with the memories in every corner of every room. But he didn’t want to disappoint Savannah. And in a way, if he said no, he felt like he’d be disappointing Sarah too. He couldn’t ignore all the energy she’d put into this annual festival.
Guilt ran through him when he admitted he wanted to say no to the talk. He should do it for his wife’s memory. But then it also made him feel guilty about the idea of moving on from his wife’s memory and starting whatever this was with Darlene.
He stared out at the bay, at the peaceful water that refused to give him answers.
Chapter19
Darlene hid out in her room that night, telling Felicity she had a headache. Then when Felicity offered to take over breakfast the next morning, to her granddaughter’s surprise, she rapidly agreed.
She slipped out of the B&B in the early morning, not wanting to run into Mark. She wasn’t ready to see him. Not ready to talk to him. She headed to Coastal Coffee.
The familiar atmosphere greeted her as she walked through the door. Beverly looked at her in surprise, frowned, and hurried over. “What are you doing here so early? What about breakfast at the B&B?”
“Felicity’s handling it for me today. I just… I just needed a break.”
“Well, come in and sit. I’ll get you some coffee. Let me wait on that other table and I’ll be back in a jif.”
Darlene settled at a table at the back as the cafe buzzed with locals grabbing their breakfast, so different from the quiet, intimate atmosphere of her own dining room at the B&B.
Beverly slid a steaming mug of coffee in front of her. “You look like you need this. How about a fresh, hot cinnamon roll? Or maybe pancakes?”
“The cinnamon roll sounds great.” She wrapped her hands around the warm mug and breathed in the rich aroma. How many mornings had she served coffee to others, making sure their cups stayed full? Now here she sat, on the other side of breakfast service.
A hint of guilt crept through her at the thought of Felicity handling everything back at the B&B this morning. But her granddaughter had grown into such a capable young woman. But soon she’d be off to California with Brent, pursuing her own dreams. The B&B would feel emptier without Felicity’s cheerful presence, her easy way with the guests, and her help with all the little tasks that kept the B&B running smoothly.
