Page 71 of Captiva Café

"The neighborhood being?" Maggie asked.

"Jacksonville," Sarah said breezily, as if the four-hour drive was nothing. "I was doing a collaborative video with another van life channel. Seniors Hit the Road—they have a wonderful husband-and-wife team who converted an old school bus. Very inspiring."

One of the guests, a woman in her late fifties with a Midwestern accent, turned to Maggie with an awed expression. "You never mentioned your mother wastheGrandma Sarah! I've watched every single one of her videos. She's the reason we booked this inn!"

"Is she?" Maggie replied with a tight smile. "How...wonderful."

"Would anyone like a tour of the Garrison Getaway?" Sarah offered, gesturing to her van. "I've made some modifications since my last video tour."

The gathered guests responded with enthusiastic affirmatives, and Sarah began ushering small groups into the van with the practiced charm of a tour guide who knew exactly how to maximize interest while minimizing the chaos of too many bodies in a confined space.

Chelsea leaned close to Maggie. "You have to admit, she's very good at this."

"That's what worries me," Maggie muttered, watching as her mother demonstrated the van's convertible bed/dining area configuration to delighted oohs and aahs from her fans.

Oliver appeared beside them, looking slightly dazed. "The phone is ringing off the hook. Apparently, Grandma Sarah mentioned on her latest video that she'd be stopping by the inn today. We've had eleven calls in the last hour from people wanting to know if they can meet her here."

Maggie's eyes widened in alarm. "Please tell me you didn't tell them yes."

"I told them the inn is fully booked through Thanksgiving, which is the truth," Oliver assured her. "But several of them said they'd just drive by anyway, on the chance of catching her in person."

"This is a nightmare," Maggie groaned.

"This is opportunity," Chelsea corrected her. "Your mother has single-handedly driven more business to the inn than all our advertising efforts combined. You should be thanking her."

"I'll thank her when she explains why she didn't give me any warning before showing up with her fan club," Maggie replied.

As if on cue, Sarah emerged from the van, leaving her current tour group to explore the interior on their own. She made a beeline for Maggie, arms outstretched for an embrace.

"There you are, my darling daughter," she said, enveloping Maggie in a cloud of expensive-smelling perfume and maternal affection. "Surprise!"

"Mom," Maggie began, trying to sound stern but finding it difficult in the face of her mother's genuine joy. "You should have called ahead. We're in the middle of changeover day. The inn is at full capacity."

"Oh, I know." Sarah waved dismissively. "I'm not staying here. I have a reservation at that charming little RV park just outside Sanibel. Full hookups, excellent WIFI. I'll be there for about a week, filming a series on island life for the Silver Wanderers."

"A week?" Maggie echoed faintly.

"Don't panic." Sarah patted her cheek. "I won't be underfoot. I have a very full shooting schedule. Interviews with local artisans, a feature on the best shell-collecting beaches, a segment on senior-friendly water sports. Oh, and I'll need to film a brief tour of the inn, of course. Just the common areas, nothing intrusive."

"Mom—"

"Chelsea!" Sarah turned her attention to Maggie's friend, embracing her with equal enthusiasm. "You look fabulous as always. How is your painting coming along? I mentioned your seascapes in my video about island art communities, and my subscribers were very interested."

Chelsea beamed. "Did they? How lovely. I've just completed a new series actually. Sunrises at different island locations. You must come see them."

"I'd love to! Perhaps we could film a short segment in your studio? My viewers are very interested in creative pursuits for their golden years."

"Absolutely," Chelsea agreed, ignoring Maggie's warning glance. "Any time."

"Wonderful!" Sarah glanced back at her van, where the tour group was emerging with expressions of admiration. "I should wrap up here and get checked in at the park before dinner. Maggie, darling, shall we have breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us, to catch up properly?"

Before Maggie could respond, someone called out from the gathering crowd.

"Grandma Sarah! Could you sign my copy of Boomer Life magazine? The issue with your feature article on solo travel for seniors?"

"Of course!" Sarah called back with a wave. She turned back to Maggie. "Duty calls. Breakfast tomorrow? Seven-thirty?"

"Fine," Maggie conceded, recognizing the futility of resistance. "But please, no filming, no fans, just a normal mother-daughter breakfast."

---