Page 12 of Island Girl

“I should probably get going,” Merritt said eventually. “My shift starts at four, and I’d like to run a few errands and then call my dad before work.”

“How is he? Your father?”

“Lonely. But he won't admit it.” Merritt set her empty glass on the tray. “He's got a book deadline coming up, so that's keeping him busy. He writes about nature and conservation.”

“That sounds like meaningful work.”

“It is. He loves it.” Merritt paused. “I worry about him, though. Being alone in that house.”

“He'll find his way. Just like you're finding yours.” Maggie stood and pulled Merritt into another hug. “Come back soon. For dinner, maybe. I’m sure Iris will cook something wonderful, and we can talk more.”

“I'd like that.”

“And Merritt?” Maggie held her at arm's length, her eyes serious. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. Day or night. Whatever it is.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Maggie smiled and released her. “It was wonderful tosee you again. I’m so happy you’ll live close by. We’ll talk again, soon?”

“Absolutely,” Merritt answered and then walked back through the kitchen, waving goodbye to Iris, and out the front door to her car. As she drove down the shell-covered driveway, she glanced in the rearview mirror at the inn, its pale yellow walls glowing in the morning light.

She'd come back looking for something. And sitting on that porch swing, drinking iced tea with Maggie Moretti, she thought maybe she'd found it.

Not answers. Not yet.

But a place where answers might come, when she was ready.

She turned onto the road and headed back to Sanibel, the water glittering on her right, the future waiting somewhere ahead.

CHAPTER 4

Merritt made it back from Captiva with enough time to shower, change, and call her father before her shift.

He answered on the second ring. “Two calls in three days. I'm starting to feel spoiled.”

“Don't get used to it. I'm about to start work.”

“How's the job?”

Merritt sat on the edge of her bed, looking out the window at the water. “Good, I think. I'm still learning. There's a lot to remember.”

“You taught music to eight-year-olds. You can handle a bar.”

“Third graders are more forgiving than adults are when you mess up their drink order.”

He laughed. “Fair point. How's everything else? You settling in?”

“I went to see Maggie this morning. At the inn.”

“And?”

“It was good. Really good.” She paused. “She asked about you.”

“Tell her I said hello. And that I'm still waiting for her to send me that key lime pie recipe.”

“I don't think she's going to give that up, Dad.”

“A man can dream.” He was quiet for a moment. “I'm glad you went to see her. She's good for you.”