Chapter Twenty-Eight
The impromptu Save The Salty Spoon party had spilled out onto the porch, laughter and music weaving through the warm summer air. A half-drunken version of “Sweet Caroline” echoed from somewhere near the front door, and the faint strumming of a guitar drifted over the crowd.
Inside, Aggie’s eyes were practically glowing when she grabbed Cora’s arm. “Cora, honey, come with me,” she said, tugging so hard Cora’s apron strings came loose.
“Where are we going?” Cora asked, stumbling behind Aggie as she bulldozed her way through the crowded café.
“A schedule for what?” Cora managed, nearly tripping over her feet as she sped up.
“You’ll see.”
Cora barely had time to throw Jack an apologetic glance before Aggie dragged her out the door.
She weaved through the crowd, pulling Cora along until they reached a row of parade floats parked at the end of Main Street.
The Shrimp and Grits float was lit up like a Christmas tree, fairy lights twinkling across the crepe paper that covered it.
Cora’s breath caught in her throat as she took it in.
Lolly would have been doubled over, laughing at the sight of Aggie in her giant shrimp costume, ready to sit on top of that ridiculous bowl of fake grits dripping with sequined gravy.
“What is this?” Cora whispered, scared that if she spoke too loudly, she might break the magic of the moment.
“This,” Aggie said proudly, “is your ride.”
Cora blinked, trying to process her words. “You want me to ride the float? Aggie, have you been drinking? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Oh, I’m stone-cold sober, sweetheart. And so is the mayor. Come on, he wants to talk to you.” With that, she led Cora over to the base of the float, where Mayor Thompson stood clutching a small cardboard box.
His face was either flushed from excitement or the heat, but he was grinning as wide as everyone else. And gathered around him were all the familiar faces of Sunrise: Bea, Winston, Lincoln, and the rest of the town regulars.
The mayor cleared his throat theatrically, and the chatter of the crowd quieted.
“Cora Lockwood,” he began, his voice carrying across the square, “when we lost Lolly, a part of the sun went out around here. The town felt just a bit dimmer without her. But when you came back to Sunrise, the light shifted again. You didn’t just save a café.
You helped all of us remember what it’s like to shine. ”
Cora’s face heated up, and she had to fight the urge to hide behind her hands. “I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.
“Well, we do,” Winston said, practically bouncing on his toes. “And now it’s our turn to do something for you.”
She glanced around, baffled. “What do you mean?”
Mayor Thompson smiled, lifting the box higher.
“It’s been over sixty years since Sunrise crowned a Honeysuckle Queen.
As it turns out, the last one was your grandmother, Lolly.
” He leaned in a little, his voice a low whisper.
“I’ll be honest with you. We had to dig all the way to the back of the town storage unit to find this.
It was under the Rudolph blow-up display that caught fire outside the elementary school in ’03. ”
He adjusted his grip and carefully lifted the lid. Inside was a slightly dented, tarnished crown made of twisted metal, decorated with honeysuckle blossoms carved from mother-of-pearl.
“And tonight,” the mayor continued, holding the crown out to Cora, “we want to restart the tradition. We had an emergency town council meeting, and we unanimously decided that it’s time Sunrise had another Honeysuckle Queen.”
The crowd burst into applause, and Cora’s vision blurred with sudden tears. Somewhere in the back, Aggie whooped.. Winston sniffled loudly beside her. Right in the middle of it all was Jack, leaning up against The Salty Spoon’s front porch, watching her with that slow, soft smile of his.
“This is . . . I don’t think I deserve this.”
“Nonsense,” Bea said, stepping forward with a tissue. She pressed it into Cora’s hand and gave her arm a firm squeeze. “You’re Lolly’s granddaughter. And we’re so glad you came home to us.”
Cora swallowed hard, nodding as the mayor carefully lowered the crown onto her head. It sat a little crooked, and someone in the crowd shouted, “Hold on!” as Aggie darted forward to straighten it. Once it was settled, a cheer erupted, echoing down Main Street.
“Now, get on that float!” Aggie barked, clapping her hands like a drill sergeant. “And don’t forget: wrist, wrist, elbow, elbow. You’re royalty now!”
Laughing, Cora let them lift her up onto the float. Her nerves melted into something lighter, brighter, as she grabbed on to the side to steady herself. The crepe paper rustled beneath her feet, and all around her, the townspeople started shouting instructions.
“Smile big!”
“Try not to fall off!”
But when she looked down and saw that Jack had made his way to the edge of the street next to the float, something stirred inside her.
This whole journey, from coming back to Sunrise, to fighting for the café, to realizing she belonged here, had been intertwined with him.
He’d stood by her every step of the way, and at this moment, it didn’t feel right to do this alone.
Cora reached down and offered her hand to him. “Come on,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, though she knew he’d hear her.
For a second, he looked surprised that she had pulled him into the moment, but then that slow grin spread across his face, and he reached up, taking her hand. With one quick tug, he was standing beside her on the float, his arm sliding around her waist, steadying her.
“Told you,” he murmured softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “You were meant for this town.”
“You think?” she asked, suddenly shy under the weight of his gaze.
“And me. You were meant for me too,” he said, his hand tightening on her hip.
And then the float started to roll, slow and steady, down Main Street as the clock struck one.
Cora looked out over the crowd. There were people leaning out of windows and waving from the sidewalks, cheering as they passed.
She did her best to follow Aggie’s advice—wrist, wrist, elbow, elbow—and her laughter joined the chorus of applause.
Lincoln pushed through the cheering crowd at one point, tossing her a garland of honeysuckle, which she draped over her shoulder like a sash.
Aggie walked alongside the float, shouting “Long live the queen!” at the top of her lungs, while Winston stood in the middle of the road with tears rolling down his cheeks.
Even Governor Sam had gotten in on the action, wagging his tail and barking as if he knew this was something important.
Cora looked out at the sea of smiling faces, all lit by the warm glow of the streetlamps. Sunrise had always been her home, and Lolly had known it all along. Her grandmother hadn’t just left her a café. She’d given her a family, love, and—apparently—a crown.