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 withyou. 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 theaction, 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.
Epilogue
Jack stood in the doorway of The Salty Spoon, the smell of cinnamon rolls, homemade bread, and fresh pie crust wrapping around him. Home. It smelled like home, with a hint of something new—Cora’s latest idea, the coffee flower latte she’d predicted would be the next trend in coffee shops.
The floral sweetness blended with the familiar dark roast, surprising him every time he took a sip. He’d scoffed when she’d first suggested it, figuring the town would give it the side-eye, but he’d been wrong. Customers held their mugs close, savoring each sip like it was the best thing they’d tasted all year. Even Mrs. Henshaw had given it a reluctant nod of approval, which was as good as a Michelin star around here.
The grand reopening was in full swing, and half of Sunrise had squeezed themselves into the café. Flour still dusted his hands from the morning rush, tiny clouds of it puffing into the air whenever he moved. Outside, Gramps was perched on a rickety ladder, adding the final touches to the wooden sign he’d carved himself.
“You good up there, Gramps?” Jack called, hurrying over to steady the ladder before it wobbled out from under him.
Gramps peered down, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I may be old, Jackie, but I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve.Though I wouldn’t say no to you keeping this thing steady. Don’t fancy testing if I can still bounce the way I used to.”
Jack gripped the ladder, holding it firm as his grandfather’s weight shifted. A memory surfaced of him, barely tall enough to see over a workbench, sanding wood for the first time with Gramps. He had that same look on his face now, the look he’d given Jack when he’d returned to Sunrise, bruised by life but too proud to admit it, and he’d welcomed him back without a word of judgment.
“You did good, son. I’m proud of you,” Gramps said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “And Lolly would be too.”
Jack swallowed hard, his throat tightening. If someone had told him a few months ago he’d be standing in Lolly’s kitchen, hopelessly in love with her granddaughter and turning out cinnamon rolls that had folks lining up around the block, he’d have laughed them out of town.
