Key West Promises (Seaside Palms #1)

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

I n Elena's office, Gretchen found herself oddly soothed by the simple task of entering donation records into spreadsheets. The focus on numbers helped calm her constant urge to rush out and "help" with everything else.

Through the window, she could see Will filming Kaitlyn as she directed the setup of auction displays. Her daughter moved with a confidence Gretchen had never noticed before, pausing occasionally to adjust a display or consult with volunteers. The camera followed her naturally, as if Will instinctively knew where she would move next.

"They work well together," Elena observed, glancing up from her desk.

"They do," Gretchen admitted, then couldn't help adding, "But a documentary filmmaker? Really?"

"As opposed to what?"

"I just always thought…I mean, with her business degree…"

"You know what I see?" Elena set down her pen. "I see someone who understands how to tell stories that matter. Both of them do, in their own ways. Will with his camera, Kaitlyn with her way of connecting people to causes." She smiled. "That's a rare gift."

The sound of laughter filtered in from the kitchen—Tess and Chelsea’s voices mixed with Jamie's deeper tones. Something crashed, followed by good-natured bickering about whose fault it was.

"Oh my," Gretchen muttered, half-rising. "I should?—"

"Stay right here," Elena finished firmly. "They've got it handled."

"But—"

"You know what the hardest thing is about running this place?" Elena asked, gesturing to the shelter around them. "Learning when to step in and when to step back. These women come to us needing everything, and it's tempting to try to fix it all for them. But that's not what they really need."

"What do they need?"

"Space to fix things themselves. Support without suffocation. Someone who believes in them enough to let them stumble sometimes."

“I guess there is something to the saying ‘Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.’”

“Something like that. In this case, it’s a woman, but I think it applies to everyone,” Elena responded.

The parallel wasn't lost on Gretchen. She sank back into her chair, watching as Kaitlyn effortlessly resolved a conflict between two volunteers over table placement.

"When did she grow up?" Gretchen whispered. "How did I miss it?"

"You didn't miss it," Elena said kindly. "You just had a different version of it playing in your head. Maybe it's time to see the real story instead of the one you thought you were supposed to tell."

A small commotion from the hall interrupted them—the caterers had arrived with sample hors d'oeuvres for approval. Gretchen's fingers itched to take charge, to rush out and organize everything, but she forced herself to stay seated.

Through the doorway, she watched Chelsea and Tess work together. Jamie appeared with additional platters, his easy competence in the kitchen matching Tess's.

They worked in seamless coordination, sharing small smiles and casual touches that spoke of growing comfort. Gretchen noticed what a gentle man he was and wondered when Tess might share his story with her.

"Mom?" Kaitlyn appeared in the office doorway. "Would you mind looking over these auction item descriptions? You're better at catching typos than I am."

The simple request—and the acknowledgment of her skill without pushing her away—made Gretchen's throat tight. "Of course."

"Thanks." Kaitlyn handed her a stack of papers. "Do me a favor and don't reorganize everything, okay? We have a system."

The gentle teasing in her daughter's voice was new, a tiny bridge across the chasm between them. "I'll restrain myself," Gretchen promised.

As Kaitlyn turned to leave, she hesitated. "Oh, and Mom? Will's going to film some interviews with the families later. The ones who are comfortable sharing their stories. Would you sit in? Maybe help them feel more at ease? You've always been good at that."

The request stunned Gretchen into momentary silence. This wasn't just busywork to keep her occupied—this was something real, something that mattered.

"I'd like that," she managed.

Kaitlyn nodded and left, immediately drawn into another discussion about table arrangements. Will caught her attention from across the room, and Gretchen watched as her daughter's entire face softened at whatever silent communication passed between them.

Standing nearby, Elena smiled. "You see?" Elena said softly. "Sometimes the best way to be needed is to wait until you're asked."

Gretchen chuckled. "I'm not very good at waiting, but I guess I’ll have to learn.”

"No one said growth was easy." Elena's smile was knowing. "But from what I hear, that's something of a family trait. You Lawrence women don't do anything the easy way."

A crash from the kitchen made them both jump, followed by Tess’s voice: "Chelsea! That was the last sample of the crab puffs!"

"Not my fault! One of the children bumped me!"

Gretchen started to rise again, but Elena's raised eyebrow stopped her. Through the chaos, she could hear Kaitlyn's laugh—bright and real and so grown up—as she went to handle whatever crisis her aunts had created.

"She doesn't need me to fix everything anymore," Gretchen said softly.

"No," Elena agreed. "But she’ll always need you. I can promise you that.”

“Do you have any children of your own?” Gretchen asked.

Elena shook her head. “No, I wasn’t able to have children. After my husband died, I didn’t want to remarry. How do you get married again when you’ve already had your love story?”

Gretchen smiled. “I’m not sure. I’ll let you know when it happens to me.”

Elena chuckled. “Paradise Harbor House is where I get to be around children.” She lifted her hand in the air. “This is where I was meant to be. This is where my maternal instincts kick in.”

“Paradise Harbor House is lucky to have you,” Gretchen said after a moment.

Elena smiled. “I think it’s the other way around. This place saved me as much as I’ve helped others.”

Gretchen nodded, letting the thought settle. Maybe that’s what I need—something bigger than myself to hold on to.

A group of children ran by their laughter filling the air. Elena’s face lit up as she waved to them, her joy unmistakable. Gretchen followed her gaze, watching Kaitlyn crouch beside a little girl, tying a loose shoelace with the same gentle patience she had once shown her dolls as a child.

“She belongs here,” Gretchen murmured, a mix of sadness and pride welling inside her.

“She does,” Elena agreed. “But that doesn’t mean there’s no place for you.”

Gretchen sighed. Maybe she’d spent too long thinking about what she’d lost instead of what she still had.

“Maybe,” she said, the word tasting like a possibility.

Elena smiled knowingly. “You’ll figure it out.”

And for the first time in a long while, Gretchen believed she just might.

Chelsea could feel the beat of Key West's nightlife in her bones as she sat in the beach chair behind Tess and Leah's yellow bungalow, the music from Duval Street carrying on the evening breeze. Though she'd visited her sisters here before, the rhythm of the island still felt wonderfully foreign compared to the quiet shores of Captiva where she and Gretchen lived. But tonight, her attention wasn't on the distant revelry—it was on her little sister, who sat beside her in uncharacteristic silence.

Taking a sip of her iced tea, Chelsea studied her sister's profile. Gretchen had that look on her face, the one she'd worn since they were kids whenever something big was weighing on her mind.

"You're awfully quiet," Chelsea said, breaking the evening silence.

Gretchen exhaled softly. "Just thinking."

"That's dangerous." Chelsea couldn't help but smirk as she took another sip of tea. Some things never changed—like her need to tease her sister whenever she got too serious.

Gretchen huffed out a small laugh but didn't argue, which only confirmed Chelsea's suspicions. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself, and Chelsea recognized that defensive posture immediately. Whatever was on her mind, it was big.

Setting her glass down on the table between them, Chelsea turned to face her sister fully. "You're thinking about moving here, aren't you?"

The way Gretchen's lips parted in surprise told her she'd hit the nail on the head. "What?"

"You heard me." Chelsea kept her tone gentle, knowing how easily Gretchen could spook when confronted with her own thoughts. "You've been looking at this place differently. Now that Kaitlyn is here, I can see the wheels turning in your head."

Gretchen shook her head, letting out that soft chuckle she always used when she felt exposed. "You always did know me too well."

"So, is that it?" Chelsea pressed, even as a knot formed in her stomach. As much as she loved visiting Tess and Leah, something about the idea of Gretchen moving here felt wrong. "Are you thinking of coming back here to live? I know Kaitlyn is here, but remember how unhappy you were when you were down here before?"

Gretchen sighed, rubbing a hand over her face—another childhood gesture Chelsea remembered well. "For a minute, I thought about it. I really did."

Chelsea waited, watching her carefully. Over the years, she'd learned that Gretchen needed space to work through her thoughts. Sometimes, being a good big sister meant knowing when to stay quiet.

"And…" Gretchen trailed off before shaking her head. "As much as I love visiting here with Kaitlyn, as much as I love seeing Tess and Leah so happy, Key West isn't where I belong."

The knot in Chelsea's stomach loosened slightly. Her sister was right, she'd known it from the moment she'd spotted Gretchen watching the sunset crowds on Mallory Square with that overwhelmed look in her eyes.

"This town is exciting, and I get why Kaitlyn loves it," Gretchen continued. “The energy, the people, the work she's doing at Paradise Harbor House, it's all part of something bigger than herself." She let out a breath. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still a work in progress, and I think finding something that really matters to me is in my future. It's just that right now, Key West isn't what I need."

"What do you need?" Chelsea asked, though she already knew the answer. She'd watched her relax in Captiva, and Chelsea could see how the quieter pace suited her.

Gretchen's gaze softened as she spoke. "Home. Quiet. Stability. Peace." She turned to Chelsea. "Captiva has that. I need that. I feel like I belong there."

Relief flooded through Chelsea. "You sure?"

"I'm sure." A genuine smile spread across Gretchen's face. "Captiva is slow mornings with coffee on the lanai. Long walks on empty beaches. A town that winds down at sunset instead of revving up. I laugh when I think that just as Captiva is going to bed, Key West is starting the party."

Chelsea couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, Key West is definitely not Captiva, and I’m grateful for that,” she said.

"No, it's not." Gretchen smiled wryly. "I love visiting here. I love spending time with Tess and Leah, and now with Kaitlyn. But I don't belong here the way they do."

Chelsea nodded slowly, thinking about how different their lives were from their sisters'. While Tess and Leah thrived on Key West's endless energy, its vibrant art scene, and even its tourist-filled streets, she and Gretchen had found their peace in Captiva's gentler rhythms.

"Did you hear yourself?" Chelsea couldn't help pointing out. "'The way they do? Does this mean you’re finally accepting that this might be where Kaitlyn will settle?'"

Gretchen smiled, catching her meaning. "I see you're using my words against me."

"Of course I am. It's my way of pointing out the obvious." Chelsea leaned back in her chair, feeling more relaxed now that they were on the same page. "I'm happy you're staying in Captiva. If you'd said you were moving here, I was worried I'd have to talk you out of it."

Gretchen's laugh echoed in the night air. "Oh really?"

"Yes, really," Chelsea said, crossing her arms. "I was already thinking about how I'd have to convince you that Key West is too much for you. That you'd hate the tourists, the late-night noise, the endless energy." She grinned, remembering their first morning here. "And don't even pretend you'd survive in a neighborhood with rooster wake-up calls every morning."

Gretchen wrinkled her nose in that familiar way that always made her look twelve again. "No way. I can barely handle the seagulls back home."

"Exactly." Chelsea felt a surge of affection for her sister. "Captiva suits us both. The quiet, the community. And I like knowing we'll still be neighbors."

Gretchen reached over and squeezed her hand, her grip warm and familiar. "Me too. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. Before moving there, I felt untethered. Of all the places I’ve lived, and for the first time in a long time, Captiva feels like home.”

Chelsea squeezed back. "Then it's settled."

Gretchen exhaled, and Chelsea could almost see the weight lifting from her shoulders. "Yeah. It is."

The wind rustled through the palm trees, mixing with the distant sounds of music and laughter from Duval Street. Chelsea smiled, knowing that sometimes the best part of finding where you belong is being secure enough in your choice to resist the pull of somewhere else.

A faint cheer erupted from somewhere down the street, followed by the upbeat strains of a Jimmy Buffett song.

The sisters caught each other's eyes and both laughed, the sound mixing with the nighttime symphony of Key West. Let Tess and Leah have their endless party, Chelsea thought. She and Gretchen had found their own kind of paradise in Captiva's quiet sunsets, and both of them were exactly where they needed to be.