Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
E vie woke up the next morning and a sadness settled over her as soon as she remembered she was leaving. Leaving the island and Randy. She climbed out of bed and slowly pulled on her outfit, not really caring what she chose. After grabbing a cup of coffee, she headed out to the main room and settled on the couch.
Bad decision.
The Christmas box sat there on the coffee table, mocking her. She ran her finger over the carved design but couldn’t bring herself to open it. There were still a few items left in the box, she knew that, but she couldn’t find joy in opening them alone.
She glanced at her phone. No messages from Randy, not that she was really expecting to hear from him. As she swept her gaze around the room, seeing the empty boxes needing to be packed, she suddenly couldn’t face the task. Maybe after a good breakfast, she’d feel more like it.
But she doubted it…
She headed to Magic Cafe—anywhere to get away from the silence of the cottage and the looming boxes.
The tinkling bell above the entrance announced her arrival when she pushed open the door. The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods provided a momentary respite from her troubles. She scanned the cozy interior, her gaze settling on Tally, who was busy waiting on some customers.
Tally looked up, her eyes meeting hers, and a welcoming smile spread across her face. She motioned for her to take a table. She took one at the edge of the beach and stared out at the sunlight dancing on top of the waves. A sight that normally would have enchanted her, but today it was a bleak reminder of all that she was getting ready to lose.
Tally came up to the table and immediately a frown crept over her features. “What’s wrong, hon? I can see something is bothering you.”
“I—” Tears threatened to spill. Again.
“I’ll be right back.” Tally disappeared, then returned with two steaming mugs of coffee, plunking them down on the table before sitting down across from her. “Okay, tell me what’s wrong,” Tally prodded, her voice laced with concern.
She took a deep breath, hoping to steady her voice. She wrapped her hands around the comforting warmth of the coffee mug. “It’s the cottage,” she began, her words coming out in a rush. “A man—Mr. Barlowe—showed up yesterday, claiming my grandfather had taken out a loan from his grandfather and used the cottage as collateral. He had a loan agreement and everything.”
Tally leaned forward and frowned. “There were some Barlowes who lived on the island. They’ve been gone a long time though.”
“He gave me two weeks to repay the full amount, or he’ll take possession of the cottage.”
“Are you sure the loan is real? It’s valid?”
“It is. I found a copy in my grandfather’s things. And I know that Nana would want me to pay back the loan. I don’t have that kind of money… so… I’m going to lose the cottage.”
Tally reached across the table and gently squeezed her hand, offering a silent gesture of support and understanding. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” she said, her voice filled with sympathy. “It must be incredibly overwhelming.”
She nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude for Tally’s presence and the comfort she provided. “I’ve been trying to find a way to stay here on Belle Island, to make the cottage my home,” she confessed. “And I told Randy I was staying, and I thought we were going to have a chance to see… to see if things might work out between us. But then all this happened.”
“Are you sure you can’t figure something out?”
“It’s hopeless. And I got a tentative job offer back in Baltimore. It’s like I wasn’t really meant to stay here.”
“Or maybe you are. Do you have feelings for Randy?” Tally asked.
“I… I might. But even if I do, what good does that do me? I’m leaving. We’ll be miles and miles apart.”
“Don’t give up hope yet. The island has a way of making things work out how they’re supposed to be.”
“And maybe I’m supposed to go back to Baltimore.” She stared at her coffee.
“You know what you need? A pick me up. How about meeting Julie and me for the annual Christmas caroling night? We all meet by the gazebo and sing Christmas carols. It’s a fun time and a lovely way to celebrate the season.”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be very good company.”
“That’s okay. Come anyway. It will lift your spirits. It’s hard to be sad and in a bad mood when you’re singing carols.”
She smiled weakly. “You’re probably right.”
“Good, then we’ll see you there at seven. Bring your best singing voice.” Tally smiled as she rose. “We’ll be expecting you.”
She was pretty sure no one ever said no to Tally. So it looked like she was going to the annual Christmas caroling night.
Evie arrived at the gathering a few minutes before seven. The gazebo was lit up with hundreds of twinkling lights, casting a magical glow around the town square. The scent of hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies wafted on the air as the townspeople gathered around, talking excitedly, waiting for the caroling to begin.
Tally waved to her, and she wove her way through the crowd to join her and Julie.
“You made it. I was afraid you’d decide not to come,” Tally said, her eyes filled with concern.
“No, you were right. It will do me good to be out. No use sitting at home and feeling sorry for myself.” She pasted on a smile.
“Tally told me what happened,” Julie said. “I’m so sorry.” She pressed a cup of hot cocoa into her hands. “Here. Take this.”
“Thank you.” She was grateful for the small kindness as she wrapped her hands around the warm cup.
The mayor interrupted their conversation when he went up to the gazebo. “Welcome, everyone. Glad to have you here. Now I’m going to turn us over to the high school music teacher and we’ll get started.”
As her gaze roamed over the crowd, she spied Randy on the other side of the gazebo, his familiar silhouette illuminated by the twinkle lights. She only allowed herself a moment to drink in the sight of him, then turned away.
The crowd started to sing “Silent Night,” and she joined in. But the words caught in her throat as she remembered coming here so many times with Nana and knowing this was the last caroling night she’d go to. Her gaze kept drifting back toward Randy, who steadfastly ignored her, his jaw set in a tense line.
Tally nudged her. “Aren’t those wreaths pretty on the gazebo? I swear, each year we get more and more decorations up here in the square.”
“They are very pretty,” she answered automatically.
Just then, the children’s choir tramped up to the gazebo to sing Jingle Bells. The cheerful tune and the animated faces of the children did lift her spirits slightly. But when they finished and rushed back to their parents, the reality of her situation came crashing back.
“I’m a bit tired. I think I’ll head out now,” she whispered to Tally.
Tally just nodded with knowing eyes.
Evie lingered at the edge of the gathering, watching families and friends embracing the holiday spirit. The joyous atmosphere only heightened her sense of isolation. Children laughed as they chased each other around the gazebo, their parents chatting happily nearby. Couples held hands, sharing warm glances as they sipped their cocoa.
She felt like an outsider looking in, no longer part of the community she’d briefly allowed herself to imagine joining. The realization stung, reminding her of all she was about to lose.
With a final glance at Randy, who was now engrossed in conversation with other islanders, she slipped away from the square. She moved quietly, not wanting to draw attention to her departure. As much as she appreciated Tally’s efforts to include her, the gathering had only proven how alone she truly was.
As she walked home alone, she passed houses adorned with twinkling lights and Christmas decorations, each display a bittersweet reminder of the life she was about to leave behind. The elaborate Santa and reindeer scene on the roof of the yellow house on the corner, the beautifully lit nativity in front of the white house with the cute picket fence, and old Mrs. Peterson’s simple but elegant wreath—all sights she’d grown to love during her time on the island.
She remembered helping her grandmother put up similar decorations when she was young, the excitement she’d felt as a child seeing the island transform into a winter wonderland—albeit a warm, sandy winter wonderland. Now, those memories served as a painful reminder of all she was losing—not just her grandmother’s cottage, but the chance to build a life here, to create new traditions and memories.
The walk seemed longer than usual, each step taking her further from the warmth of the community gathering and closer to the reality of her situation. The sound of carols faded behind her, replaced by the gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the distant cry of seagulls. The sounds that had become comforting to her over the past weeks but now seemed to echo her loneliness.
Reaching her grandmother’s cottage, she paused on the porch, surveying the holiday decorations she’d put up. They’d all have to come down now. The cheerful glow from the lights did little to chase away the heaviness in her heart as she unlocked the door to what would soon no longer be her home.