Chapter 14
B everly wiped down the coffee counter for the third time that morning, finding comfort in the familiar motion.
Two days after the hurricane, she’d managed to get Coastal Coffee open.
Not at full capacity, but enough to provide a gathering spot for the community.
The generator hummed steadily, powering the coffee machines, the refrigerator, and a few essential lights.
She’d found a handyman to secure tarps over the damaged section of the roof and spent all day yesterday cleaning up the interior.
Thankfully, her own cottage had sustained only minor damage.
She’d found a few downed tree branches and some garden destruction, but nothing structural.
She counted herself among the fortunate ones.
The morning crowd had been steady since she opened.
When Nash Carlisle had popped in first thing as usual, congratulating her on opening, it made her feel like life was returning to normal.
People wandered in with weary smiles, grateful for a semblance of normal amid the chaos of recovery.
Without electricity across most of the island, her generator-powered coffee had become something of a luxury.
“Morning, Miss Beverly.” Tim Marshall walked through the open door. “Rumor has it that you have hot coffee and some baked goods.”
“I do.” She smiled, gesturing to the pastry case where she’d arranged the goods Julie had sent over from The Sweet Shoppe at Lighthouse Point. “Belle Island barely got touched by the storm, so Julie’s been baking up a storm for us—no pun intended.”
Tim chuckled as he approached the counter. “That’s really something, isn’t it? Just a few miles can make all the difference between getting flattened and barely getting rained on.”
“That’s hurricanes for you.” She poured him a cup of coffee and placed a muffin on a plate. “How’s your place holding up?”
“Lost a few shingles. Nothing I can’t fix.” He took the coffee gratefully. “My wife is staying with our daughter in St. Pete’s until the power comes back. Me, I’d rather be here helping where I can.”
She nodded, understanding completely. She’d rather be here too, doing what she could to help restore Magnolia Key.
“More coffee, Mrs. Henderson?” Beverly asked, approaching a table where the woman sat enjoying her first cup.
“Please, dear,” Mrs. Henderson replied, holding up her mug. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to sit somewhere that isn’t that stuffy evacuation center.”
She waited on more customers, slowly making her way to the front of the cafe, and glanced out the front window, surveying Main Street.
Workers from the electric company had arrived that morning, and their trucks lined the street as they worked to restore power.
Some storefronts remained boarded up while others showed signs of activity as owners returned to assess and repair.
Her gaze stopped abruptly when she spotted a familiar figure on a ladder propped against Patty Miller’s gift shop. Cliff Griffin balanced on the roof, hammering down a blue tarp while Patty stood below, looking up anxiously.
She stared, surprised to see him helping. She hadn’t expected Cliff to stick around after the storm, let alone pitch in with repairs. He wore a T-shirt darkened with sweat, his movements efficient as he secured the tarp over Patty’s damaged roof.
Mrs. Henderson came up beside her and glanced out the window.
“Is that Cliff out there? You know, before the storm hit, he helped me out too. He was a troublemaker in school, that’s for sure, but he’s done some nice, helpful things along the way.
I think he really believes this project of his will help the town. ”
“Maybe.” She wasn’t really willing to give Cliff credit for that.
Mrs. Henderson left, and Beverly watched as Cliff climbed down from the ladder, exchanged words with Patty, and then began folding the ladder. Even from this distance, she could see Patty’s grateful expression as she reached out to touch Cliff’s arm in thanks.
The man did surprise her sometimes. Then she reminded herself that he’d surprised her all those years ago when they were going to leave the island together but instead he’d left her without a word. Yes, he was always full of surprises.
She shook her head, chasing away the memories, and moved back behind the counter, pleased to see the cafe filling up with familiar faces. People continued to stop by for coffee and a bit of news.
And the chatter was filled with Cliff.
Cliff fixing Mr. Peterson’s porch steps.
Cliff helping clear debris from the library’s yard.
Cliff delivering cases of water to the senior center.
Who was this Cliff Griffin everyone was chattering about? Not the Cliff she knew. Had everyone forgotten about his development and how it would change the town?
She continued to wait on customers, relishing the familiar routine. She looked up and saw Darlene come in. “Heard you were open.” Darlene hugged her. “I’m so glad you didn’t have more damage.”
Maxine came over. “Why don’t you sit down with Darlene for a bit? You haven’t stopped since we opened this morning.”
“Thanks, that sounds wonderful.” She looked at her friend gratefully and grabbed a couple of cups of coffee.
“How’s the B&B, Darlene?” she asked as she sat down and slid a cup over to Darlene.
“Could be worse. Some water damage in two rooms on the bay side. The insurance adjuster’s coming tomorrow. My gardens are in ruins. Still a lot of cleanup to do. The B&B is filled with residents whose homes sustained a lot of damage. I’m glad to have a place for them to stay.”
“Let me know if you need any help. Maxine and I could come by after we close up here,” she offered.
“Thanks, but I think I have it covered. Say, did you see the bridge when you came back to the island? Quite a sight, wasn’t it?”
“I heard it might be months until they can safely get the barge moved. Then they’ll assess the damage. I’ve heard talk that there isn’t the funding to replace it, and the project might get cancelled for now.”
Darlene shook her head. “I have to admit, that wouldn’t bother me much. It was just going to bring more traffic to town. Change everything. I like Magnolia Key just like it is.”
They sat and chatted, but thankfully, not one word about Cliff. Darlene left after a bit, and Beverly joined Maxine at the counter. “Thanks for giving me a little break.”
“No problem.”
“I saw Cliff helping Patty with her roof,” Maxine said casually, glancing sideways at her. “He’s been all over town the past two days, from what I’ve heard.”
She busied herself arranging napkins. “So I’ve heard.”
“Interesting, isn’t it?” Maxine pressed. “The man who wants to change Magnolia Key with his high-rise is now helping folks repair what they already have.”
“People are complicated,” she replied, not wanting to admit that seeing Cliff help had stirred conflicting emotions within her. “Maybe he feels guilty about pushing his development before the storm hit.”
“Maybe.” Maxine didn’t sound convinced. “Or maybe there’s more to him than we’ve been willing to see.”
She turned away from her friend’s knowing gaze and began wiping down an already clean table. “Either way, it’s good he’s helping. The town needs all hands right now.”
A new group of customers entered, saving her from further conversation about Cliff. She greeted them warmly, taking their orders and moving efficiently behind the counter.
For the next hour, she kept herself busy, refilling coffee cups, making more sandwiches when supplies ran low, and listening to stories of storm damage and narrow escapes.
All the while, she found her gaze drifting to the window, watching as Cliff finished with Patty’s roof and moved on to help Jake at the hardware store unload a truck that had just arrived with supplies.
Against her will, memories surfaced—younger versions of themselves, Cliff always ready to lend a hand when someone needed it. Before he’d left her waiting at the ferry. Before he’d become the developer who wanted to change their island with tall buildings and tourist attractions.
“Would you look at that?” Rachel Masters came up beside her and nodded toward the window. “Never thought I’d see the day when Cliff Griffin would be up fixing Patty’s roof. Or helping unload a truck.”
She nodded, not sure how to answer that.
“People can surprise you, I suppose.” Rachel shrugged before heading outside.
“Penny for your thoughts,” a voice said from behind her, startling her from her reverie. Miss Eleanor stood there, impeccably dressed despite the circumstances, with Winston on his leash beside her.
“Just wondering when the power might come back on,” she lied, turning to Miss Eleanor with a smile. “Can I get you some coffee? I don’t have your cream for it, though. Didn’t come in with the supplies. Or I have some sweet tea.”
“Tea would be lovely.” Miss Eleanor took a seat at her usual table, and Beverly returned with the tea. “Jonah’s helping with the cleanup at the church, and I thought I’d take Winston for his walk. The poor creature’s been quite disturbed by the whole ordeal.”
“How’s your house coming along?” Of course, everyone in town knew Miss Eleanor’s house had been damaged.
Miss Eleanor sighed, stroking Winston’s head as he settled at her feet. “It’s a disaster, frankly. The contractor says it could be weeks before the repairs are complete.”
She noticed Miss Eleanor didn’t admit she was staying at Jonah’s house, but everyone in town knew that fact too. And surprisingly, Cliff was also staying there.
Miss Eleanor took a sip of her tea. “I saw Cliff helping Jake unload a truck of supplies on my walk over. He seems determined to make himself useful.”
“Yes, he’s been busy,” she answered noncommittally.
“He always did have a good heart, beneath all that stubbornness,” Miss Eleanor remarked, surprising Beverly with the almost complimentary assessment of her son.
Not knowing how to respond, she simply nodded and excused herself to help other customers. The cafe had grown busy again with the lunch crowd—if a person could call cold sandwiches and pastries lunch. Still, no one complained. They were just grateful to have somewhere to gather.
As she worked, her thoughts returned to Cliff and his unexpected helpfulness after the storm. It didn’t align with her image of the man who’d proposed a development that would forever change Magnolia Key’s skyline. The man who’d abandoned her years ago without a word.
She’d told Maxine that people are complicated, and now she found herself considering the truth of those words.
Could Cliff be both the developer determined to build his high-rise and the man currently helping his neighbors without being asked?
Could he be both the boy who’d broken her heart and the man who remembered how to be part of this community when it needed him most?
She wasn’t ready to forgive him. Not for the past, and not for his present plans for the island. But as she watched him through the window, helping and sweating alongside everyone else, she had to admit there might be more to Cliff Griffin than she’d allowed herself to see.