“It’s possible,” Jonah continued, “that he’s reconnecting with what made Magnolia special to him in the first place. Seeing the community pull together after the hurricane. Maybe he truly cares about the town?”
She considered the question carefully. Did Cliff care about Magnolia Key? He’d certainly shown more concern for its residents in the past week than he had in years. And there was something different about him since the hurricane. Less polished, more genuine.
Jonah leaned forward. “And to be honest, I see a bit of myself in Cliff. Trying to win the respect of the town. Back when we were young, the town and your father held a pretty poor opinion of me. Nothing I could do would change that. Maybe Cliff felt the same thing, and now he’s trying to win your approval.”
“I don’t know.” She paused, the confession difficult. “But I’ve spent so many years being disappointed by him that I’m not sure I can trust what I’m seeing now.”
“Or maybe you can. Maybe this is the real Cliff now.”
“I do feel like I’m getting to know him a bit better now that he’s been staying here with us. But like last night when we were playing cards, I half expected him to cheat to win, but he was a gracious loser when you won the game.”
“Maybe it’s time to give him the benefit of the doubt,” Jonah suggested gently.
“And if I’m wrong? If this is just another one of his schemes?”
“Then at least you’ll know you tried.” He reached across and took her hand. “And isn’t that worth something?”
She squeezed his hand, grateful for his steady presence in her life. “When did you become such an optimist?”
“I’ve always been an optimist. How else would I have had the courage to pursue you?” He winked at her.
That brought a genuine smile to her face. “Fair point.”
Outside, the sounds of the town rebuilding continued. Hammers and saws, voices calling instructions, the occasional burst of laughter. Magnolia Key was resilient, just as it had always been. Perhaps her son was trying to find his place in all that.
“I’ll think about it,” she promised, though the thought of changing her stance on Cliff after so many years seemed a bit overwhelming.
“That’s all anyone can ask,” Jonah said.
Chapter 17
That afternoon, Miss Eleanor walked into Coastal Coffee right after closing time while Beverly was clearing up the last tables. “Miss Eleanor, hi. I’m just closing up, but I can get you some coffee. I even have cream now.” She smiled.
“I know you’re closed, but I just wanted to talk to you without so many people around if you have time.”
“I do.” She frowned, wondering what the woman needed. “Let me just flip the sign to closed, and I’ll get us some coffee.”
Miss Eleanor took her usual table, and Beverly came back with coffee and sat down.
She poured coffee into both cups, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. She appreciated the quiet of the cafe after hours, though her usual post-closing routine was now interrupted. She added fresh cream to Miss Eleanor’s cup—just the way the older woman liked it—and pushed it across the table.
“Thank you.” Miss Eleanor tapped her fingers lightly on the table’s edge. “Cliff has been staying with me at Jonah’s house.”
She nodded, not quite knowing what to say to that. She hadn’t expected Miss Eleanor would ever tolerate her son’s company for more than a few hours, much less days, now weeks. Nor did she ever think Miss Eleanor would admit she was staying at Jonah’s house.
“It’s been… interesting,” Miss Eleanor continued, her lips pursing slightly. “I’m getting to know Cliff a bit better.” She took a slow sip of her coffee. “I heard he even helped with your roof repair.”
“He did.” She fidgeted with her coffee cup, rotating it in small circles. “I couldn’t find a contractor who wasn’t already booked solid with post-hurricane work.”
“Hmm.” Miss Eleanor studied her face with those sharp eyes that seemed to miss nothing. “He’s been helping all over town. I didn’t expect that.”
“Neither did I,” she admitted, remembering her own surprise at seeing Cliff with his sleeves rolled up, replacing shingles on her roof. He’d worked efficiently, barely speaking except to ask for tools or to update her on his progress.
Miss Eleanor set her cup down precisely, the small clink against the saucer sounding unnaturally loud in the empty cafe. She looked straight at Beverly and asked, “There was something between you and Cliff all those years ago, wasn’t there?”
She froze, her coffee cup halfway to her lips. She set it down carefully, buying herself a few precious seconds to think. The question hung in the air between them, impossible to ignore. How much did she know? How much had she guessed?
“I…” She started, then stopped. She’d never discussed her relationship with Cliff with anyone except Maxine. It had been their secret—hers and Cliff’s—all those years ago. But now, with Cliff’s mother looking at her expectantly, she wasn’t certain how to answer.
