She followed Miss Eleanor, keeping her eyes ahead to avoid looking at Cliff again. She settled into the wooden chair, smoothing her skirt and pulling out her phone to check the time. The mayor should start soon.
Jonah slipped into the empty chair by Miss Eleanor and smiled at her. “Sorry, Ellie. Running a bit late.” He took her hand in his.
It still surprised Beverly just a bit to see Miss Eleanor and Jonah. Miss Eleanor had been a widow for so long and never dated a soul. Then Jonah returned and all that changed. She had her second chance with him.
Beverly turned back to the front as the mayor stepped up to the podium and tapped the microphone. “Good evening, everyone. Tonight’s agenda focuses on the proposed development at the end of the boardwalk. Mr. Griffin will present his plans, followed by public comments.”
Cliff approached the podium, carrying a portfolio. He opened it and began setting up large mounted boards on easels. The renderings showed gleaming glass and steel rising above the boardwalk, modern and sleek against the backdrop of the ocean.
“Thank you, Mayor.” Cliff’s voice carried clearly through the room. “The proposed development includes retail space on the ground floor, a floor of conference rooms and hotel dining, and four floors of hotel rooms. Our economic impact study projects over a hundred permanent jobs will be created along with a significant increase in tax revenue for Magnolia Key.”
Beverly watched as he moved confidently through his presentation, gesturing to charts and architectural drawings. This polished businessman was so different from the wild teenager she’d known. Yet something in the way he stood, the slight tilt of his head when he made a point, was exactly the same.
Miss Eleanor’s fingers drummed against the armrest of her chair, a subtle sign of her displeasure. Rachel Masters furiously scribbled notes beside them while Tim Marshall nodded enthusiastically with each of Cliff’s points from across the aisle.
Tim stepped up to the microphone first after Cliff’s presentation. Beverly had known Tim since high school. His family had lived on the island for three generations.
“This development could bring fresh life to our town,” Tim said. “My son wants to stay here, but there aren’t enough opportunities for young people. This project could change that.”
A few more people stepped up. Each voiced support for the project, painting pictures of a thriving future with more jobs and tourists.
Her chest grew heavy as she listened. Just two weeks ago, these same people had gathered at Coastal Coffee for the annual Small Business Saturday celebration. They’d laughed together, shared stories, and helped decorate the street. Now the room crackled with tension as supporters and opponents sat divided.
Greg Wark, the marina owner, stood up next. “The hotel will bring year-round visitors, not just summer tourists. That means steady business for all of us.”
More nods of agreement rippled through one side of the room while frowns deepened on the other. She remembered when town meetings meant working together to plan festivals or organize beach cleanups. The sense of unity that had always defined Magnolia Key felt like it was slipping away.
Miss Eleanor rose from her seat, her movements deliberate and graceful. She made her way to the microphone. The room fell silent.
“I’ve lived on this island for seventy-five years,” she began. “That boardwalk property you want to develop? My grandfather helped build it. The original pilings still stand there, cut from island pine trees.” Her voice carried clearly through the room. “Every summer, families gather there to watch the sunset. Children learn to fish off those boards, just like their parents and grandparents did.”
Miss Eleanor’s gaze found Cliff’s face. “My son seems to have forgotten that some things are worth more than money. That spot holds generations of memories for island families. Progress doesn’t have to mean destroying our heritage.”
She watched Cliff closely during his mother’s speech. His expression remained neutral, but she noticed the muscle working in his jaw. It was the exact same tell he’d had as a teenager when he was angry but trying not to show it. His hands gripped the edge of the table where he sat, his knuckles white with tension.
Miss Eleanor wasn’t finished. “The Whitmores have always protected this island’s character. We’ve been its guardians since the first settler stepped ashore.” She paused, her eyes still locked with Cliff’s. “I expected better from a Whitmore heir.”
The disappointment in Miss Eleanor’s voice cut through the room. Cliff’s jaw clenched tighter, but he didn’t look away from her steady gaze. Miss Eleanor turned to return to her seat.
Beverly stood, and her heart pounded as she approached the microphone. Her hands shook slightly as she adjusted it to her height. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Public speaking had never been her strong suit, but this was too important to stay silent.
“Magnolia Key is a special place,” she began, wondering if everyone could hear the slight tremble in her voice. “It’s not just the beautiful beaches or the quaint shops. It’s the feeling you get when you walk down the street and everyone knows your name. The way the community comes together for festivals and potlucks. It’s the sense of history that lingers in every old building and weathered dock.”
She glanced at Cliff, but his expression was unreadable, even for her. “This proposed development would forever change the character of our town. That stretch of boardwalk is where generations have gathered to watch the sunset, to fish, to make memories. Replacing it with a high-rise would alter the very skyline that defines Magnolia Key.”
Her voice grew steadier as she continued. “I understand the desire for progress, for economic growth. But at what cost? Do we want to sacrifice the charm and heritage that make our town unique? Do we want to become just another beach town, overdeveloped and indistinguishable from a dozen others up and down the coast? Once we change our building codes and allow this one building, are more to come?”
She paused, looking out at the faces of her neighbors. “Magnolia Key is more than just a place. It’s a community, a family. And like any family, we won’t always agree. But I hope we can find a way to move forward together, to grow and thrive without losing the essence of who we are.”
She turned to Cliff. “Go stand on that boardwalk. Think about what it will be like to not even be able to see the ocean from there with the high-rise blocking the view.”
This time, she could read his face. He was thinking about the times they both went out there to watch the sunset. But he quickly recovered and his neutral expression settled back on his features.
As she stepped back from the microphone, her legs felt shaky. She returned to her seat beside Miss Eleanor, who patted her hand approvingly.
The mayor called for the next speaker, and a man Beverly recognized as a local contractor stepped up. “With all due respect, Miss Mooney,” he began, “Magnolia Key can’t survive on charm alone. We need jobs, we need industry. This development could be the shot in the arm our economy needs.”
From across the aisle, Sarah Smith stood up. “At the expense of our history? Our environment? There are other ways to bring jobs without destroying the character of the town.”
