Page 61 of Island Girl

Gregory took his hand and held it. “I know you won't. I'm a good judge of character. Ninety-one years will do that to you.” He looked at Merritt. “Take care of that place. And come visit me. Tell me about the birds.”

“I will,” Merritt promised. “Every week.”

“Every week.” Gregory smiled. “I'll hold you to that.”

They said their goodbyes and walked back through the lobby, out into the warm Florida sunshine. The parking lot was quiet, the air thick with the smell of flowers and salt.

Richard stopped beside the car and looked at Paula. “Thank you. For everything. I know this has been above and beyond.”

“It hasn't,” Paula said simply. “It's just what you do for people. I think they call it paying it forward. I’ve had more than my share of people doing that for me.”

“Somehow, in the middle of all this, you've made everything work.” He paused. “I'm grateful.”

“I'm glad I could help.” Paula glanced at her watch. “I should get back to work. But call me if you need anything. Either of you.”

She gave Merritt a quick hug and smiled at Richard. “It was lovely to meet you. I hope we see you again, soon.”

“You couldn’t keep me away,” he said.

Merritt and Richard stood in silence for a moment, watching her walk away.

“She's a good person,” Richard said.

“The best.”

“And Gregory is exactly as you described. Sharp, funny, full oflife.” He shook his head. “Ninety-one years old and still naming cardinals. That's something.”

“He's special.”

“He is.” Richard turned to face her. “And so is the bungalow. This island, these people. I understand now why you chose Sanibel.”

Merritt felt something loosen in her chest. “You do?”

“I do.” He pulled her into a hug. “You found something real here, Merritt. Something worth holding on to. I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Now.” He released her and opened the car door. “Let's go back to that bungalow. I want to sit on the deck and watch the pelicans while I figure out how to tell my lawyer I'm buying a house in Florida.”

Merritt laughed. “He's going to think you've lost your mind.”

“Maybe I have.” Richard smiled. “But if this is losing my mind, I'm okay with it.”

They drove back to the bungalow with the windows down, the salt air rushing through the car. Merritt watched the familiar landmarks pass, the causeway, the wildlife refuge, the turn toward the beach, and felt something settle in her chest.

Her father was here. The bungalow was happening. Gregory had given his blessing.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, the future felt less like a question and more like an answer. She didn't know what came next, but she was ready to meet it all head-on.

CHAPTER 19

Richard stayed for five more days. The small bed and breakfast near Shorebirds suited his needs but he declined breakfast so that he could spend those precious mornings with his daughter.

They fell into an easy rhythm. Mornings, Merritt would pick him up and bring him back to the bungalow, where bagels and muffins and his favorite orange juice were already waiting. They'd drink coffee on the deck and watch the pelicans dive for fish and talk about everything and anything that came to mind.

Afternoons, they worked on the bungalow, cleaning, organizing, making lists of small repairs that would need attention eventually. Evenings, Richard came to Shorebirds and sat at the bar while Merritt worked. He chatted with whoever sat beside him and seemed happy to be in Florida.

He fit here. That surprised her, though maybe it shouldn't have. Her father had always been adaptable, comfortable in his own skin no matter where he was. Maine winters or Florida heat, small-town diners or beach bars, he found his footing quickly and made himself at home.