Page 73 of Captiva Café

"And three different couples have asked me to share my 'widow's journey of healing' on camera for their own socialmedia," Maggie continued, unable to keep the frustration from her voice. "My grief is not content, Mom."

Sarah's expression sobered completely. She set down her teacup and reached across the table to cover Maggie's hand with her own. "Oh, my darling girl. I never meant to create problems for you. I was simply sharing my pride in what you've accomplished here."

Maggie felt some of her tension ease at her mother's genuine contrition. "I know you didn't intend for this to happen. But I need you to understand the real-world impact your channel is having on our daily operations."

At that moment, Iris appeared with plates of Oliver’s legendary lemon-ricotta pancakes topped with fresh berries and a side of local honey.

"Good morning, Mrs. Garrison," Iris said with a warm smile. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"Iris! You look marvelous," Sarah exclaimed. "Is that a new haircut? It frames your face beautifully."

Iris beamed at the compliment. "It is, thank you for noticing. Enjoy your breakfast, ladies. I'll bring more tea in a bit."

As Iris retreated, Sarah turned her attention to the food, making an appreciative sound as she took her first bite. "Oliver continues to outdo himself. These pancakes could convert even the most dedicated low-carb fanatic."

They enjoyed their pancakes and no one spoke for a few minutes. They could hear the first guests beginning to emerge for breakfast in the dining room and come gathering to the porch enjoying their coffee.

"I hear what you're saying, Maggie," her mother said finally, setting down her fork. "And I promise to be more mindful about how I feature the inn in future videos. Perhaps fewer specific details that might create unrealistic expectations."

Maggie blinked in surprise. She had expected more resistance, a lengthy defense of creative freedom or the value of authentic content. "Thank you. That would be helpful. Maybe you don’t mention the inn again for a while. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of adventures and material for your YouTube videos."

“Oh, I do. I’m having the time of my life. I do have days when I get tired. I’m going to spend the holidays back home. I’m worried that the condo association might give me trouble parking the RV. But, I’m working on finding a place I can rent that will let me park it away from the condo. We’ll see. So, tell me about Merritt, I understand she’s enjoyed her time here?”

Maggie nodded. “She did, but she’s gone back home to Maine. I don’t know how much you know about her situation, but I was so happy when she decided to confide in me. I think I helped her, at least I hope I did.”

"Well isn’t that just like you,” Sarah said.

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“I’m just admiring the way you’re able to be a shoulder to cry on for your guests. It seems to me that anyone who comes to stay at the Key Lime Garden Inn gets a ready-made therapist at their beck and call. Maybe now that your latest therapy patient is gone, perhaps you can focus on your other problem.”

Her mother’s tone had changed to sarcasm, and Maggie knew that tone all too well. “My other problem?”

"I think we need to discuss what's happening with Lauren."

The abrupt change of subject caught Maggie off guard. "Lauren? What about her?"

Sarah studied her daughter with a penetrating gaze that had lost none of its power to make Maggie feel like a child again. "You're so focused on the inn and managing my YouTube influence that you're missing what's happening right under your nose. Lauren is struggling, and you haven't noticed."

Maggie felt a defensive response rise in her throat, but something in her mother's expression made her pause. "What do you mean, struggling? She seemed fine when she visited last week. A bit tired, maybe, but?—"

"Oh, Margaret." Sarah shook her head in disbelief. "She wasn't fine. Not even close to fine. Did you actually look at her? Really look at her?"

"Of course I?—"

"The shadows under her eyes? The way she keeps checking her phone when she thinks no one is watching? How she changes the subject whenever Jeff's name comes up?" Sarah's voice was gentle but insistent. "She's lost weight, Maggie. Her clothes are hanging on her."

Maggie felt a cold knot forming in her stomach. Had she really missed these signs? She'd been so preoccupied with the inn's sudden popularity, with Merritt's situation, with the chaos of daily operations...

"Lauren and I talk regularly," Maggie said, but even to her own ears, it sounded like a weak defense.

"Do you talk, or does she report?" Sarah asked. "There's a difference. She tells you about Olivia's tennis and Lily's science club and Daniel's new words. But when was the last time she told you how she was really feeling?"

The question hung in the air between them, uncomfortable in its accuracy. Maggie couldn't remember the last time Lauren had shared anything truly personal about her own life, her own emotions.

"She video chats with me every Sunday evening," Sarah continued more gently. "Jeff is never there. He's always 'at a tennis meeting' or ‘working on something in the basement.’ And last week, Lauren cried, Maggie. Actually cried when I asked how the move to Florida was going for their marriage."

Maggie felt the blood drain from her face. "What did she say?"

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