Page 84 of Captiva Café

From the kitchen came the sound of Cara humming as she arranged the day's offerings in the display case—Maggie's scones, Chelsea's lemon bars, and cookies from the Lawson sisters, along with the breakfast frittata Cara had prepared as her inaugural contribution. The rich aroma of espresso filled the space as Oliver tested the new machine, the hissing of steam punctuating the morning quiet.

"We're really doing this," Gretchen said, a note of wonder in her voice. "After all the setbacks, the construction delays, the archaeological drama—we're actually opening a café."

Isabelle allowed herself a small smile. "It appears we are."

The door opened, and Maggie and Paolo entered, carrying a basket covered with a checkered cloth.

"Emergency scone reinforcements," Maggie announced. "I woke up at four thinking about how quickly they might sell out, so I made another batch."

"You're a lifesaver," Gretchen said, accepting the basket gratefully. "The display case was looking a bit sparse."

Paolo glanced around appreciatively. "The place looks magnificent. Sebastian would be proud, Isabelle."

Isabelle felt a familiar tightness in her chest at the mention of her late husband, but it was accompanied now by a warmth that hadn't been there in the early days of grief. "Yes," she said quietly. "I think he would."

The next half hour passed in a flurry of final preparations. Chalkboard menus were positioned, napkin dispensers filled, outdoor tables wiped down one last time before placing the yellow tablecloths on top of each one. Cara emerged from around the glass display case, her chef's apron crisp and her expression a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

"The frittata is kept warm and ready to slice," she reported. "And I've prepped everything for the avocado toast. We can handle at least thirty orders before we'd need to start a new batch."

Isabelle nodded approvingly. In the week since they'd hired Cara on a trial basis, the young chef had proven herself to be organized, efficient, and genuinely talented. What she lacked in formal restaurant experience, she made up for in enthusiasm and meticulous preparation.

"Excellent," Isabelle said. "We're opening in fifteen minutes. Is everyone ready?"

A chorus of affirmatives answered her, though Gretchen's response was interrupted by the chime of the door opening again.

Chelsea swept in, carrying a bakery box and wearing what appeared to be a new sundress for the occasion. "Final delivery of lemon bars," she announced. "And I brought Steven, who is currently parking the car because apparently my parallel parking skills are 'not to be trusted with a new paint job.'"

Behind her, Marco Bernal entered, carrying a small, wrapped package. "Good morning," he said, his eyes immediately finding Gretchen. "I thought I'd stop by to wish you luck on your opening day."

Gretchen's face lit up in a way that made Isabelle raise an eyebrow. There had been several "coffee meetings" between her business partner and the historical preservation expert overthe past few weeks, but Gretchen had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about their conversations.

"Marco." Gretchen greeted him with a warmth that suggested these meetings had not been strictly professional. "You didn't have to come so early."

"I wanted to be your first official customer," he replied, offering the package. "And to give you this. A café-warming gift, you might say."

As Gretchen unwrapped what turned out to be a small, framed historical photograph of the building from the 1940s, Isabelle exchanged a knowing glance with Maggie. Some things on the island never changed—including the way relationships seemed to bloom with the same natural rhythm as the bougainvillea.

By nine o'clock, the official opening time, a small crowd had gathered outside the café. Isabelle took a deep breath, straightened her already-perfect posture, and nodded to Gretchen, who moved to unlock the door.

"Welcome to Captiva Café," Gretchen announced with a bright smile, stepping aside as the first wave of customers entered.

The café quickly filled with island residents and curious tourists, the buzz of conversation rising as people settled at tables and perused the limited but carefully crafted menu. Oliver manned the coffee station with professional precision, while Cara handled food orders with surprising composure. Isabelle moved between tables, greeting guests with the natural grace of someone who had entertained extensively in her previous life, while Gretchen charmed customers at the counter with her enthusiastic descriptions of the coffee beans and their origins.

Maggie watched from a corner table she shared with Paolo, Chelsea, and Steven, her heart full at the sight of thecafé coming to life. This was what the island needed—another gathering place, another business built on the foundation of community and connection rather than just tourist dollars.

"They've done a beautiful job," she remarked to Paolo, who nodded in agreement.

"The historical photos were an excellent touch," he said, gesturing to the wall, where framed images documented the building's past lives. "And those chairs Isabelle found at the estate sale are perfect."

The door swung open again, and Dr. Eleanor Reyes entered, accompanied by Phineas Whitaker and several members of the Captiva Historical Society. They carried what appeared to be professionally mounted display materials.

"Just in time," Gretchen said, hurrying over to greet them. "The wall is all prepared."

Maggie watched with interest as the group moved to a section of wall that had been conspicuously empty throughout the preparations—clearly reserved for something significant. Dr. Reyes began directing the arrangement of what appeared to be framed photographs and informative placards.

"The artifact display," Chelsea explained, noticing Maggie's curious glance. "Isabelle and Gretchen worked out an arrangement with the Historical Society. The actual artifacts will be preserved in their museum, but high-quality photos and educational materials will be displayed here, acknowledging the café's historical significance."

"That's a wonderful solution," Maggie said. "Everyone benefits—the artifacts are properly cared for, and the café maintains its connection to island history."