Page 102 of The Pumpkin Spice Spell
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
I tear it open, half-expecting a manuscript or one of her handwritten recipes for mulled wine. But it’s a deed.
The deed to the boat. In my name.
I freeze. “What…what is this?”
Donna gives me a small smile. “She belongs to you.”
“Donna…” My voice breaks. “Why?”
“Because you weren’t ready to let her go. And this town looks after each other,” she says, stepping closer. “And so do you now. You didn’t realize it, but you’re one of us; you always have been. You’ve been holding pieces of this town together since you got back. Whether it’s helping Remy, or fixing things for Lilith, or just showing up for Willa. You are a big part of our town’s heartbeat, Tate.”
I shake my head. “I can’t?—”
“You can,” she says, firm. “You’ve got this wild, stubborn loyalty that your father never had the courage to live into. Youlove hard, Tate. And this boat? It doesn’t have to be a ghost anymore.”
I look down at the deed again. It feels heavier than paper has a right to be.
“It’s yours now,” she says. “You decide what it becomes. Scrap it. Sell it. Restore it. Make it a charter boat, a shop, a floating bookstore, hell, build a crab shack on it. I don’t care.”
She smiles, soft and a little sad. “It’s a blank page. A fresh start. Just be happy, son. You deserve that.”
The wind shifts again, colder this time, and I let the words settle. “You’re really giving this to me?”
“I’m not giving it to you, the whole town is,” she says gently. “It’s time to start building your own legacy now. The town pulled together and bought this back for you.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the tears on my cheeks. I swipe them away with the back of my hand and laugh under my breath. “I don’t even know where I’d start.”
“You’ll figure it out,” she says. “Start with what this town needs. And what you need. You’ll find the middle.”
We stand in silence for a minute, both of us looking at the boat.
Then I ask quietly, “What do you think he’d say? My dad.”
Donna hums. “I think he’d be proud. And a little pissed that you’re gonna do it better than he ever did.”
I huff a laugh.
“But you’re not him, Tate,” she adds, voice firmer now. “You never were. You have to be you. You can’t live his life. You have to live yours.”
I nod slowly and look up at her. “Thank you. For this. For everything.”
Donna steps forward and hugs me, tight and warm. “I love you, sweetheart. Just take care of her. And yourself.”
She starts back toward town, coat flapping, leaving me with the boat and the silence and the possibilities.
I climb aboard for what feels like the first time. She’s really mine.
The deck creaks under my weight, and the cold air bites at my cheeks, but something stirs deep in my chest, something I haven’t felt since I was a kid standing at the bow, pretending I was headed toward some brave new life. I feel hope.
I walk to the stern, lean against the rail, and stare out at the open water. The future used to terrify me. Now I think maybe I’m ready to chart my own course. With Willa, naturally.
And whatever that looks like, this boat’s coming with us.
Chapter 31
