Chapter 10
L auren Phillips leaned over the steering wheel, squinting through the windshield as she turned off the Tamiami Trail onto the causeway that led to Sanibel and Captiva.
The sun transformed the Gulf waters into a canvas of diamonds, each wave catching and tossing light skyward.
She rolled down her window, and the air rushed in, salt-laden and alive.
For the first time since relocating to Sarasota, the tightness in her chest began to unravel.
The past month had been a blur of cardboard boxes and commitments: registering the kids for new schools, unpacking what felt like a thousand dishes, converting a spare bedroom into a home office that actually functioned, and trying to memorize street names.
But today belonged to her alone. No business decisions.
No endless to-do list pinned to the refrigerator.
Just an impromptu journey back to Captiva Island and her mother.
Maggie had no idea she was coming, and the thought made Lauren's lips curl into a smile. What she was most excited about was that what she was doing today she hoped would turn into a weekly tradition. No longer having to fly home to Boston, she could, at a moment’s notice, get in the car and drive south.
As she crossed the Sanibel Causeway, watching brown pelicans dive into the water with military precision, Lauren turned to look at her son, Daniel, in his car seat. “We’re almost there.”
She slipped her sunglasses onto her nose and laughed softly to herself. She could already picture her mother's expression—the widening of those familiar hazel eyes, so like her own, when she pulled into the shell-lined driveway of the Key Lime Garden Inn unannounced.
The radio played an old Jimmy Buffett song, something about changes in latitudes and attitudes, and Lauren hummed along, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. How fitting. Some things did change, but some—the most important ones—never really did.
When she arrived with Daniel in her arms, Lexie was the first to announce her presence, barking enthusiastically as she bounded down the garden path, her golden coat shimmering in the midday sun. The dog's tail wagged with such force her entire back end swayed.
"Hey, sweetie!" Lauren crouched to meet her, scratching behind the dog's ears and accepting the inevitable face licks. "Still keeping an eye on everything around here, aren't you?"
Maggie appeared on the wide back porch, one hand clutching a blue-striped dish towel, the other frozen midway through pushing a strand of silver-streaked, blond hair behind her ear. Her expression shifted from confusion to joy in the span of a heartbeat.
"Lauren? What on earth...?”
"Surprise!" Lauren straightened, arms outstretched. "Thought I'd steal a day just for us. Can we get Sarah in on this too?”
Maggie descended the porch steps with the grace of someone who'd navigated them a thousand times, laughing and shaking her head.
"She and the kids were just here this morning.
I think they were headed to Jerry's in Sanibel for groceries.
" She pulled Lauren into an embrace that smelled of lemon furniture polish and the lavender hand lotion she'd used for as long as Lauren could remember.
"Come inside, we'll text her. She'll never forgive us if we don't."
Maggie quickly sent Sarah a text telling her to come back to the inn as fast as she could safely drive.
Kissing Daniel on the cheek, Maggie asked, "How are all my grandchildren? And Jeff? Is life feeling somewhat normal? I know it’s going to take some time.
Tell me everything," Maggie demanded, sliding a glass of iced tea across the counter without asking if Lauren wanted one. Some things were simply understood.
"They're good. Adapting. Olivia spends every afternoon at the community courts.
Lily's found this nature club that meets twice a week—she brought home a snake skin last Tuesday that nearly gave me a heart attack.
And this little one..." Lauren bounced Daniel on her lap.
"Daniel's discovered the joys of opening every cabinet in our kitchen and rearranging the contents by color rather than function. "
"And Jeff?"
Lauren traced a condensation ring on the countertop. "Adjusting to a new home. He’s focused on making sure Olivia’s tennis experience is a healthy one. I don’t think he’s thinking of anything else but our family right now. We’re so lucky to have him. He’s a wonderful husband and father."
“I’ve always loved Jeff. He’s one of the good ones, that’s for sure.”
A commotion outside interrupted their conversation—the sound of car doors slamming and children's voices rising in excitement.
"I can’t believe Sarah got here so quickly," Maggie said, already moving toward the door. "She must have broken every speed limit between here and the grocery store."
Moments later, Sarah burst through the doorway with her three children in tow—Noah, lanky and tanned; Sophia, her dark curls bouncing; and the youngest, Little Maggie, a miniature of her mother with the same determined chin.
"Auntie Lauren!" they cried in unison, rushing forward like a small, enthusiastic hurricane.
Lauren bent to scoop Little Maggie into her arms, marveling at how solid the child felt compared to her last visit. "Look at you! When did you get so big? Are they feeding you Miracle-Gro?"
The little girl giggled, pressing her hands to Lauren's cheeks. "I'm this many now," she said solemnly, holding up three fingers.
Sarah followed more sedately, balancing a grocery bag on one hip, her free hand pushing her sunglasses into her hair.
"When Mom texted, I nearly drove off the road.
I left my sunglasses here earlier so we were headed back when you texted me.
" She set the bag down and wrapped Lauren in a one-armed hug. "How’s my big sister?” Sarah asked hugging Lauren, and then picked up her sunglasses from the kitchen table.
"I missed you guys," Lauren admitted, setting Little Maggie down. "Sarasota's beautiful, but it's not Captiva Island."
The three women migrated to the shaded garden courtyard with fresh glasses of iced tea, while the children ran circles around Lexie. The dog's expression conveyed both alarm and resigned tolerance as she allowed herself to be transformed into various mythical creatures in their imaginative game.
"So, really," Sarah said, tucking her legs beneath her on the wrought-iron chair. "How's the move going? Last time we talked, you were surrounded by unpacked boxes and contemplating setting them all on fire."
Lauren laughed, remembering the late-night phone call made after a particularly frustrating day of unpacking.
"It's better now. We've got actual furniture instead of cardboard box tables.
I've even hung a few pictures. It's starting to feel.
..not like home exactly, but like somewhere we could belong eventually. "
"And your real estate clients? Are they following you to the new office?" Maggie asked.
"It’s far too early to tell. Give me a break, I just got here.
" Lauren paused, searching for words. "Everything's fine.
Good, even. But I miss this." She gestured vaguely at the space between them.
"Just sitting with you both. Knowing I could drop by on a random Tuesday if I wanted to. I want us to get together as often as possible. Sarasota isn’t that far.
You and Sarah could drive up to see me, too. "
Maggie reached over and gave her daughter's hand a squeeze, her skin cool despite the warm day. "We’ll make it happen. You're only a drive away now. The inn's always open to you—you know that. We've got plenty of iced tea and stories to go around."
"And babysitting services," Sarah added with a wink. "Mom's been complaining she doesn't see your three enough."
"I said no such thing," Maggie protested, but her eyes crinkled at the corners.
"Though it wouldn't hurt if they visited more often. I miss all my grandchildren. I hope Becca and Chris bring Eloise soon, and now, with Beth having twins, I’ll definitely fly up to stay with them for a while.
She and Gabriel are going to need all the help they can get. "
Lauren smiled, feeling something within her settle. "I can’t imagine what taking care of two newborns will be like. It’s hard enough with just one.”
“Yeah, well if anyone can make it work, it would be Beth,” Sarah added.
The afternoon stretched on, conversation flowing as easily as the tea being poured.
They talked about Sarah's family and Trevor’s new job, Maggie updated Lauren on the latest news of the Captiva Café and the found treasures within.
Stories wove between them, threads of a shared tapestry that had never truly unraveled, despite distance and time.
Lauren watched her mother and sister talking animatedly about the inn's upcoming events, about her grandmother’s YouTube influencer hobby, and everything in between.
As the sunlight began to soften, casting a golden haze over the courtyard, the children returned from their adventures. Lexie plopped down in the shade, thoroughly exhausted, as the kids grabbed juice boxes and settled in with their coloring books and sidewalk chalk.
Sophia climbed up beside Maggie and whispered, "Grandma, do you think we could make a video like Great-Grandma Sarah? But with fairies?"
Maggie laughed. "If we do, I'm making the rule that there will be no glitter in my kitchen."
Little Maggie leaned into Lauren's lap, drowsy and warm. "Aunt Lauren, next time can you bring more books? The ones with the animals that talk."
"You got it, kiddo," Lauren said, brushing a strand of hair from her niece’s forehead.
Daniel babbled from his stroller, and Noah darted in to tell everyone about a lizard he saw with a blue tail. For a few perfect minutes, it was all laughter and lazy chatter and the comfort of being together.
Before she realized it, hours had passed and it was time to go.
"Remember, we're going to make this a regular thing," Lauren said as she walked to her car.
"Absolutely," Maggie responded.
"I'd love that, Lauren. I've missed my big sister."
They hugged and squeezed Daniel before Lauren put him in the car seat.
As she drove down the driveway and out onto the main road leading off-island, Lauren wiped a happy tear from her cheek.
She’d accomplished something that had once been only a dream.
Visits with her mother and sister would be a new tradition going forward.
Lauren made a silent promise to herself: she wouldn't let the busy current of life pull her away from these shores again.
Some journeys were worth making, no matter how many times you had to navigate the same causeway to find your way back home.