Chapter 26
The morning came too quickly.
Maggie woke to the sound of a large truck rumbling up the driveway, followed by the slam of doors and voices calling out instructions. She lay in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling of the room that had been hers for so many years, letting herself feel the weight of what today would bring.
The moving company had arrived.
She found Christopher and Becca already in the kitchen, dressed and moving with the quiet efficiency of parents who had learned to operate on minimal sleep. Eloise sat in her baby bouncer, her right hand in her mouth. Becca packed the diaper bag while Christopher made coffee.
“You're up early,” Christopher said, pouring her a cup without asking.
“The truck woke me.” Maggie accepted the coffee and wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “How are you feeling about today?”
“Ready. And not ready.” He leaned against the counter, his own mug in hand. “It's strange. I've been wanting to get back to Florida, to start working on the house, to get familiar with my new work environment. But now that it's time to leave...”
“It's hard to say goodbye.”
“Yeah. It is.”
Becca zipped the diaper bag closed and came to stand beside her husband, slipping her hand into his. “We still have family and friends here, so I know we'll be back.”
“Of course you will.”
“How is Paolo handling being abandoned?” Christopher asked with a small smile.
“He's not abandoned. He's managing the inn and pretending he doesn't miss me.” Maggie took a sip of her coffee. “He calls every night and asks what I had for dinner. I think he's worried I'm not eating properly.”
“Are you?”
“I had three egg rolls last night. I think I'm fine.”
Through the window, Maggie could see two men in work clothes beginning to assess the furniture that had been tagged for transport. The pieces of her old life, about to be carried out the door and loaded into a truck.
“Crawford is meeting the truck in Fort Myers,” Christopher said, following her gaze. “He's arranged for storage until the house is ready.”
“That was kind of him.”
“Becca's father has been incredible through all of this.”
Lauren appeared in the kitchen doorway, already dressed, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “The movers want to know if we have anything else to add to the truck. I told them yes, but I need coffee before I can deal with logistics.”
“There's a fresh pot,” Maggie said.
“Bless you.” Lauren poured herself a cup and took a long sip. “Okay. Sarah and I have a few boxes. Grandma has that chair she refuses to leave behind. Chelsea found some artwork she wants to keep. And Mom, you have those boxes from the attic.”
“The moving company is taking all of it?” Maggie asked.
“Makes more sense than hauling it in the RV,” Lauren said. “Crawford said there's plenty of room in the storage unit. We can sort through everything once we're back in Florida.”
Grandma Sarah appeared in the kitchen doorway, already dressed in her purple tracksuit. “Why is everyone standing around? There's work to be done. Those movers need supervision.”
“They're professionals, Mother,” Maggie said. “I'm sure they know what they're doing.”
“Professional or not, that chair is older than they are. I'm not taking any chances.”
Grandma Sarah marched off toward the living room, and a moment later they heard her issuing instructions to the movers with the authority of a general commanding troops.
“That chair goes in last,” she announced. “I want it accessible. And be careful with it. The leather is original.”
“Yes, ma'am,” came the mover's weary reply.
Maggie's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and smiled when she saw Paolo's name on the screen.
“I'll be right back,” she said, stepping out onto the back porch for a moment of privacy.
“Good morning, my love.” Paolo's voice was warm, that familiar accent that still made her heart skip after all this time. “I wanted to catch you before the chaos began.”
“Too late. The movers are already here.” Maggie watched through the window as Christopher lifted Eloise from her bouncer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “How are things at the inn?”
“Quiet. Too quiet. The guests are wonderful, but it’s more fun when you’re here.” He paused. “I miss you, Maggie. The bed is too big. The coffee tastes wrong when I make it myself. Even the sunsets are less beautiful without you beside me.”
“You're very dramatic this morning.”
“I am Italian. Drama is in my blood.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “When do you leave? Have you and Chelsea booked your flight?”
Maggie hesitated. “About that. There's been a change of plans.”
“What kind of change?”
“Mother has insisted that Chelsea and I drive back with her in the RV. Lauren and Sarah will be with us too.”
There was a pause. “Your mother’s RV?”
“The very same.”
“And you agreed to this?”
“I didn't have much choice. You know how she is.” Maggie lowered her voice. “But honestly, Paolo, I'm worried about her. She's eighty years old, and she thinks she can do anything she sets her mind to. Someone needs to watch over her, even if she doesn't think she needs watching.”
“You want to protect her.”
“She's my mother. She'd never admit she needs help, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need it. If something happened on that drive and I wasn't there...” Maggie shook her head even though he couldn't see her. “I'd never forgive myself.”
Paolo was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “You are a good daughter, Maggie. Your mother is lucky to have you, even if she is too stubborn to say so.”
“She's stubborn. I'm stubborn. It runs in the family.”
“This I know very well.” He chuckled. “So, three days in an RV with your mother, your daughters, and Chelsea. This will be interesting.”
“That's one word for it.”
“Call me every night. I want to hear all the stories.”
“There will be plenty, I'm sure.”
“Drive safe. Take care of your mother. But come home to me.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Ti amo, Maggie.”
“I love you too, Paolo. Always.”
She ended the call and looked out at the backyard where her children had played, where she had tended gardens and hung laundry and lived a whole other life.
In a few days, she would be back on Captiva, back at the Key Lime Garden Inn, back in Paolo's arms. The thought filled her with a quiet joy that balanced the sadness of leaving this place behind.
She had come here to say goodbye to the past. But the future was waiting for her, warm and bright and full of love.
She slipped the phone back into her pocket and went inside to help with the movers.
The house slowly came to life around them. Sarah emerged from the room she was sharing with Lauren, adding her own boxes to the pile by the front door. Chelsea came downstairs with two framed paintings that had hung in the guest room.
“I always loved these,” Chelsea said. “Beth said I could have them.”
Beth had driven back to Boxford with Gabriel, Emily, and the twins after dinner the night before.
The babies needed their own space, their own supplies, the comfort of the nursery that had been set up for them.
Michael had headed home to Brea and the kids as well, promising to stop by later to say a final goodbye to everyone.
Maggie wandered through the house, watching the movers work. Two men carried the dining room table out the front door, the table where her family had shared thousands of meals, where homework had been done and arguments had been settled and birthday candles had been blown out year after year.
“Careful with that,” Grandma Sarah called after them. “That table has history.”
“Everything in this house has history,” Sarah said, coming to stand beside her grandmother.
“That's why we're being careful.”
In the living room, the sofa was the next to go.
Maggie remembered buying it with Daniel, back when they were young and optimistic, back when she still believed their marriage would last forever.
The kids had jumped on those cushions, had built forts with the pillows, had fallen asleep watching movies on weekend nights.
She smiled, realizing it now looked old and would most likely be replaced by something new and stylish.
“You okay, Mom?” Lauren appeared at her elbow.
“Just remembering.”
“Good memories or bad memories?”
Maggie considered the question. “Both, I suppose. That's how it is with a house you've lived in this long. The good and the bad get all mixed together.”
“But mostly good?”
“Mostly good. The bad parts led me to where I am now, and where I am now is pretty wonderful.” She put her arm around Lauren's shoulders. “I have you kids. I have Paolo. I have a life I love. The bad parts were worth it in the end.”
“That's a very healthy perspective.”
“I've had a lot of therapy.”
Lauren laughed. “Haven't we all.”
The morning passed in controlled chaos. Since Maggie was selling most of the furniture, the movers carried only a few pieces out the front door while Grandma Sarah supervised each one. Boxes were checked and double-checked. Eloise was fed and changed and fed again.
By mid-morning, the truck was nearly loaded.
Christopher and Becca's furniture, the boxes of keepsakes from the attic, Grandma Sarah's chair, and various items the others had claimed throughout the week.
The house was starting to look bare, the walls showing faded rectangles where pictures had hung, the floors revealing marks where furniture had stood for decades.
The movers finished loading and came to the door for final signatures. Christopher handled the paperwork while Becca gathered their things for the drive.
The moving truck rumbled to life and pulled out of the driveway, taking with it the physical remnants of the Wheeler family's years in this house. They all stood on the porch watching it go, a strange mix of relief and sadness settling over the group.
Michael's SUV pulled up to the curb just as the truck disappeared around the corner. He climbed out and surveyed the scene, hands in his pockets.
“Looks like I timed it right,” he said.
“Your timing is impeccable as always,” Lauren said.
“Traffic on 93. You know how it is.”
“I know you use that excuse for everything.”
“Because it's always true.”
Before more goodbyes could begin, another car appeared at the end of the street. Beth's car pulled into the driveway, and she climbed out carefully, still moving slowly from the delivery.
“You didn't think I'd let you leave without saying goodbye, did you?” she said to Christopher.
Christopher's face softened. “You should be resting.”
“I'll rest when I'm dead. Or when the twins are teenagers. Whichever comes first.” She stopped in front of him. “Walk me to the tree?”