The silence is heavy, as though the air around me understands my words.
I gently place the tiny bundle of wildflowers I picked this morning—her favorite—into the vase on her stone, brushing my fingers once more across her name.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For your love, the friendship, the lessons. For being my compass.”
I stand, my legs unsteady beneath me.
“I’ll always carry you with me,” I promise, “and I know you want this chance at happiness for me.”
As I turn to leave, the sun breaks through the clouds, casting a warm glow over my face, quietly affirming I’m on the right path and loved.
Chapter 20
Maddie
I step out of my cottage into the cool early morning air and make my way toward the Inn, a notebook tucked under my arm. Dressed in an old T-shirt and cargo shorts, I expect the usual Monday morning dive team meeting.
Instead, I stop dead when I reach the dining room.
It’s empty.
Where is everyone? It’s Monday, and no one told me the meeting was canceled. Then I hear the voices outside the front door—excited chatter. Odd. Cautiously, I push the door open and gasp.
The front porch and grounds are alive with energy and cheerful chaos, far from the usual focused work and dive planning. Familiar faces buzz about, everyone wearing mismatched work clothes, their fervor contagious. Scott stands in the center of the porch. A tool belt slung low on his hips, with sawdust covering his snug blue T-shirt. Liam holds a mop, getting ready to go back inside. Jamie waves a paintbrush, and Margaret has a measuring tape clipped to her pocket. Even Ms.Connor is ready for action, her apron layered over an old shirt and faded jeans. They’ve been at this for a while already.
“What’s going on?”
Scott turns toward me. He brushes some of the sawdust from his shirt. “Good morning, sweetheart.” His expression is playful, mischievous. “No dive meeting today. We’re giving this place some love.”
I blink, trying to process. “Huh?”
“We’re renovating,” Scott declares, gesturing toward the inn. “Painting, fixing, sprucing up—whatever it needs. The Driftwood Inn deserves some TLC.”
“You’re kidding.” It’s clear he isn’t.
“Nope,” Jamie chimes in, attempting another twirl of his paintbrush and nearly dropping it. “Scott’s idea, but we all jumped on board. This place is a local treasure, like Carter’s Drop—except, you know, above the water.”
Ms. Connor steps forward. “I’ve made extra coffee and cinnamon rolls.” She hands me one. “We’re fueled up and ready to go, honey.”
“You’re all completely insane. And you’re wonderful. I love you.” Emotion swells in my chest as I take them all in. “Thank you.”
Ms. Connor claps her hands, her tone brisk but amused. “Enough talking. Eat your bun, and then let’s get back to work.”
The day unfolds in a whirlwind of sweat and friendship.
Scott tackles the porch railing, his hammer swinging in steady blows. Liam scrubs the weathered siding with an exaggerated effort, cracking jokes. Jamie and Margaret team up to paint the faded trim, the bright white transforming the inn’s exterior into a fresh and inviting façade. Ms. Connor and I work in the garden, where we plant a riot of hibiscus and marigolds bursting with color under the afternoon sun and new herbs for the kitchen.
Midmorning, Hannah arrives with arms full of iced tea and bags of sandwiches. She surveys our work, her eyes twinkling. “I leave for a couple of hours, and suddenly, this place looks like it’s being filmed for HGTV…” she teases, setting the refreshments on the porch table.
Scott glances up from his work. “I’ve got a hammer over here waiting for you, Hannah.”
“I’m on it. Just let me get this passed out.” She serves refreshments before jumping in to help Scott with the porch.
The hours fly by, the initial chaos turning into steady progress. By late afternoon, the Driftwood Inn has been completely transformed.
Standing back to admire our work in the garden, I brush a streak of dirt from my cheek and sigh contentedly. Scott appears beside me, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Looks good.” He gestures toward the flowers.
