Chapter 10
B everly leaned against the headboard of her hotel bed, a pillow tucked behind her back, eyes fixed on the television screen.
The remote rested in her hand, ready for her constant changing of the channels to see if she could get more information.
The same weather map kept appearing with its swirling patterns of red, orange, and yellow moving across the Florida coast.
The forecasters stood in their rain gear, hair whipping in the wind as they gestured dramatically at the storm conditions behind them. One was positioned in Sarasota, ankle-deep in water. Another shouted over the howling winds in Fort Myers. But not a single one was reporting from Magnolia Key.
“They’re not even mentioning our island.” She frowned at the TV as if that would make news about the island suddenly appear.
Maxine sat at the small round table by the window, scrolling through her phone. “Nothing on social media either. Just general hurricane coverage.”
The hotel room was nice, but she longed to be home in her cozy cottage. The room had two queen beds with floral spreads, soothing sage-colored walls, and artwork of the coastline. The air conditioning hummed steadily, keeping tempo with the anxiety thrumming through her.
“I keep thinking about Coastal Coffee. I put up the shutters, moved everything off the floor that I could, but…” She shook her head. “If the storm surge is bad enough…”
“Don’t torture yourself.” Maxine set her phone down. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of Beverly’s bed. “We did everything we could.”
“I know. It’s just that place is my whole life.”
“The building is insured, right?”
She nodded. “But it’s not just about the money. It’s about…” She struggled to find the right words. “It’s everything that place means. All the memories. The community that comes through those doors every day.”
The meteorologist on TV was now explaining the hurricane’s projected path with unnecessary enthusiasm. She pressed mute, unable to listen to another minute of his animated delivery of potentially devastating news.
“I get it,” Maxine said. “But try and remember that whatever happens, you still have that community. The building might change, but the heart of what makes Coastal Coffee special is you.”
She gave her friend a grateful smile. “When did you get so wise?”
“Right around the time my life fell apart and I had to put it back together,” Maxine said with a wry smile. “Crisis has a way of clarifying what matters.”
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, checking it for the tenth time in the last hour. “I wish someone would post something about Magnolia Key. Anything.”
“The power’s probably out everywhere on the island,” Maxine reasoned. “And cell service might be down. And I’m hoping no one stayed, but there are always a handful who refuse to leave.”
“You’re right. I just hate not knowing.”
She unmuted the TV as the weather segment switched to a reporter interviewing evacuees at a shelter a bit inland from Naples. People looked tired and worried, but safe. Children played in the background while adults watched the news on a large-screen TV.
Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it so quickly she nearly dropped it. “It’s Darlene!” She opened the text message.
“What does it say?” Maxine moved closer, peering over her shoulder.
“Made it to my friend’s place in Orlando. No news from the island yet. Hope you’re safe.” She typed a quick reply. “At least she got out okay.”
“That’s good news. I bet we’ll start hearing from more people soon.”
She nodded, trying to stay positive. The TV footage now showed waves crashing over a seawall, spraying the surf high up into the air. The ticker at the bottom of the screen reported storm surges of eight to twelve feet in some areas. Her stomach tightened.
“I need some air,” she said suddenly, setting the remote down and sliding off the bed. “Want to go down to the lobby for some coffee?”
“Hotel coffee?” Maxine raised an eyebrow. “You’d drink that?”
“Desperate times,” she replied with a half-smile.
They took the elevator down to the lobby, which was busier than she expected. Other evacuees milled about, some glued to their phones, others gathered around the large television mounted on the wall which was tuned to the same weather coverage they’d been watching upstairs.
The coffee station in the corner offered self-serve carafes and foam cups. She poured herself a cup and grimaced at the first sip. “Well, that’s not Coastal Coffee’s brew.”
“Told you.” Maxine laughed and opted for hot tea instead.
They found seats in a quiet corner, away from the television but with a view of the rain through the large glass doors. The trees outside bent in the wind, though Fort Lauderdale was only getting the outer bands of the storm.
“Remember that hurricane when we were, what? About sixteen?” she asked, staring out at the rain.
“I do.”
“The damage was terrible. But we all came together afterward. Everyone helping everyone.” She stared down at the coffee cup in her hands. “That’s what I love about Magnolia Key. When it counts, people show up for each other.”
“You think they will even with all the fighting lately? All the disagreement about Cliff’s development?”
She considered that for a moment. “Maybe especially because of that. We might disagree, but it’s because everyone cares so deeply about the island.” She paused. “I just hope…” She couldn’t finish the thought.
“The island will still be there,” Maxine said firmly. “It might look different, but it will still be there.”
An older couple sat down nearby, the man’s phone to his ear as he spoke urgently. “Nothing yet from your brother? Well, keep trying. The news says the barrier islands took a hard hit.”
She and Maxine exchanged glances, both thinking the same thing. Magnolia Key was one of those barrier islands.
Dale came walking up to them, interrupting their thoughts. “You’ll never guess who I just saw.”
“Who?” Maxine patted the seat next to her, and Dale sat down.
“Miss Eleanor, Jonah, and Cliff.” Dale laughed. “Oh, and Winston.”
“I’m glad they got off the island safely.” Maxine leaned against Dale.
“Well, Cliff told quite a story about Winston running off, and while they were trying to find him, the last ferry left.”
“Oh, no. How did they get to the mainland?” Beverly asked.
“A very rough ride across the bay on Jonah’s boat.”
She stood up, and unease flooded through her, as pounding as the storm surge. “I can’t just sit here.”
“Maybe we should try to get some rest,” Maxine suggested. “There’s nothing we can do right now except wait.”
“I know you’re right. But I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep at all tonight.”
“We’ll come up to your room, and we’ll stay up together.” Maxine glanced at Dale, who nodded. “Watch storm coverage and raid the vending machine. At least until you get tired of us and throw us out.”
She smiled gratefully at her friend. “I’m glad you’re here, Maxine. I don’t think I could handle this alone.”
“Where else would I be?” Maxine stood and hugged her. “We’ve weathered worse storms together.”
They headed back upstairs, passing more worried-looking evacuees in the lobby. In her room, she turned the TV back on but muted it, watching the images of the storm’s aftermath begin to come in from the hardest-hit areas.
The reporter stood in front of a marina where boats had been tossed around like toys. Behind him, a yacht lay on its side, half-submerged in muddy water. The camera panned out to show splintered docks and debris scattered everywhere.
“That’s not far from us,” she whispered, recognizing the location. “That’s only about twenty miles down the coast.”
“But twenty miles this way or that makes a huge difference in hurricane damage.” Dale sat up straight in his chair, leaning forward. “Turn up the volume. What is he saying? Isn’t that the bridge they’re building to Magnolia Key?”
She turned on the volume, and the three of them stared at the TV.
“Look at that,” she said softly. “That barge took out a huge section of the bridge.”
“Well, that’s going to change things, isn’t it? Doesn’t look like we’re going to have a bridge connecting the island to the mainland anytime soon.” Dale shook his head.
They all stared at the screen and let the news sink in.
She got up and paced the floor, then went over to look out the window.
The rain, which had picked up again, dashed against the glass.
Somewhere beyond the clouds and the distance was Magnolia Key—her home, her business, her life.
And all she could do was wait and hope it would still be there when they returned.