Krista stood rooted in the sand, overwhelmed, until Joe’s hand found hers and gently tugged. “C’mon, Queen Bee,” he murmured. “We’re on.”
They wove through the crowd, collecting shoulder squeezes and hugs. Elsie reached down to haul Krista up onto the stage. Joe climbed up beside her, steadying her with a warm hand at her waist.
“Okay, Maple Falls,” Elsie continued, “for the past week, we’ve watched these two maniacs swap lives. We’ve seenKrista’s mouth-watering food photography, Joe surviving shifts at the Hot Honey Hideaway, Joe demonstrating the correct waynotto paddleboard…”
“Hey!” Joe called.
Laughter rippled outward.
“These two made one heck of a dynamic duo,” Elsie said, her tone softening. “But we didn’t just do this for dares and hashtags. We did it to help two people who’ve poured their hearts into this town for decades—Walt and Alice—and to keep Hidden Hills campground buzzing for years to come.”
Krista’s throat tightened.
“We couldn’t have done any of this without our sponsors,” Elsie went on, sweeping her arm wide, “and without you, every business that donated, every person who ordered one more Hot Honey Margarita or booked one more kayak rental because you saw some ridiculous video I posted.”
More cheers. Someone whistled. From the back, Kit yelled, “We love you, Elsie!”
“On that note,” Elsie said, turning. “Mayor Bloomfield, would you do us the honors?”
The mayor stepped forward, holding an oversized check.
The number hit Krista like a wave.
Her vision blurred. That many zeros. That many actual dollars that could go toward a porch ramp. Grab bars in the bathroom. Insurance premiums. Extra home-care hours so Walt could take a moment.
It was enough for her grandparents to be comfortable and that’s all that mattered to Krista.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Applause swelled around them, but it sounded far away. Relief and gratitude and something close to hope rushed through her, hot and overwhelming.
It didn’t magically fix everything. There still wasn’t enough of her to go around, not between the Hideaway, thecampground, her grandparents, and the tiny little ache in her chest that wanted…more.
But the check meant time. Breathing room.
The chance not to sell to the first Hideaway buyer waving cash and a demolition plan.
And for that, she was so achingly grateful.
She blinked hard, fighting back tears, and glanced at Joe.
He was looking at her, not the check, a broad, proud smile lighting his face.
Mayor Bloomfield spoke—something about community, resilience, how he was “deeply honored to present this to the Valente family on behalf of Maple Falls”—but Krista only caught pieces. She accepted the check beside Walt, cameras flashing. After the photos and handshakes, she walked away to talk to Gram.
Alice noticed her approach and blinked, focus sharpening. “Honey?” she said.
Krista crouched beside her, sinking into the sand so they were eye level. She reached for Alice’s hand, folding her fingers around it the way she had as a kid.
“Hi, Gram.”
Alice studied her. “You’re shaking,” she murmured. “Are you alright?”
Krista tried to smile. It wobbled. “I am. I just…” She swallowed, pressing Alice’s hand to her cheek for a second. “I wanted to tell you something.”
Alice’s grip tightened around Krista’s, not strong, but steady. “About my mother,” she said quietly.
Krista nodded. Her chest ached. “She ran away because she fell in love. A kind of love that made her brave, and reckless.”
