They were heading to Miami. To wrap up the lives they’d built there so they could move permanently to Anastasia Island. To Holly’s house, where they’d all be staying together while they sorted through decades of belongings and decisions.
It was the right thing to do. The necessary thing.
But that didn’t make watching them leave any easier.
Jack’s arm tensed beneath her hand, and Julie felt the worry radiating off him like heat from pavement in summer.
“They’ll be fine,” she murmured.
“I know,” Jack said, but his voice carried the weight of someone trying to convince himself. “I just hate them traveling during the festive season. The roads are terrible. Everyone’s in a hurry. People drink too much and think they’re fine to drive.”
Julie squeezed his arm. “Logan is the most careful driver I know. And Charlie won’t let him take any risks.”
“I know,” Jack said again.
Isabella stood on Jack’s other side, her eyes fixed on the van as it turned onto the main road and disappeared from view. Her face was composed, but Julie saw the tightness around her mouth, the way her hands were clasped in front of her like she was physically holding herself together.
This was the first time Isabella and Maddy had been apart since Maddy had been born. But Maddy had wanted so badly to go to Miami, to spend time with Trinity and see the city and be part of the adventure. And Christopher had promised to look after her like she was his own.
But that didn’t make it easier for Isabella to watch her daughter drive away.
The van disappeared completely, swallowed by distance and trees.
Julie turned to both of them, slipping her arms through theirs. “Do you two need a hot chocolate?”
Jack looked down at her, his expression softening slightly. “I could do with one.”
“Me too,” Isabella said quietly.
“I’ll make it,” Isabella added, already starting to turn toward the Inn.
“Not a chance.” A firm voice came from beside them.
They all turned.
Mrs. Hurling stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, her expression brooking no argument. Her steel-gray hair was pulled back in a bun, and she had the kind of no-nonsense demeanor that came from years of running professional kitchens. She’d been helping Isabella since the holiday rush began, and the two of them had developed the kind of efficient partnership that made the dining room run like clockwork.
“You’re not setting foot in that kitchen right now,” Mrs. Hurling said, pointing at Isabella. “I’ll make the hot chocolate. You go take a seat in the dining room.”
“But what about the front desk?” Jack asked, glancing back toward the lobby.
Marcus appeared beside Mrs. Hurling, his young face serious. “I’ll take care of it.”
Julie smiled. “See? Everything is handled.”
She marched them both toward the dining room before either of them could come up with another excuse to work instead of rest.
The dining room was quiet this time of day, the lunch rush long over and dinner service still hours away. Soft light filteredthrough the windows, catching on the polished wood tables and making the room feel warm and safe.
Julie steered them to a table near the window and sat them down like children who needed supervision.
“There,” she said, settling into her own chair. “Now we wait for hot chocolate, and we don’t worry.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jack muttered, but there was affection in his voice.
“They’ll call when they stop for gas,” Julie said. “And they’ll call again when they get to Holly’s house. We’ll hear from them every step of the way.”
Isabella nodded, but her gaze drifted to the window, following the road the van had taken.
