Chapter 10
Six months later.
It was a warm summer evening at the lake cottage.
The sun was setting, painting the water pink and gold.
Fireflies were starting to blink in the pine trees.
I sat on the porch swing, the same kind Evelyn had on her porch, holding the journal in my lap.
My mom was in the kitchen, making lemonade, laughing at something on the radio.
Lila was out on the dock, playing with the new golden retriever puppy we’d adopted from the shelter.
We named him Arthur.
After Evelyn’s husband.
He was a goofy, clumsy thing, always getting into trouble, and we loved him more than anything.
I flipped open the journal to the last page, read Evelyn’s words again.
18 months of love is better than a lifetime of loneliness.
I thought about everything that had happened.
The scared, broke kid sleeping in his truck.
The old woman who’d knocked on his window with a thermos of soup.
The lies.
The guilt.
The trial.
The family I’d found when I least expected it.
I’d come into Evelyn’s life to take everything.
And I’d left with more than I’d ever dreamed of.
A mom who was healthy and happy.
A sister who loved me no matter what.
A business that was thriving, building homes for other families.
A cottage that felt like the safest place in the world.
And a love that had changed me forever.
I still missed her every day.
Still talked to her when I was alone, working on a job, or sitting on the porch at night.
But the guilt was gone.
Replaced by gratitude.
By joy.
By the determination to live the life she’d bought for me, the way she’d wanted me to.
Lila walked up the steps, Arthur trailing behind her, soaking wet, shaking water all over the porch.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” she said, sitting down next to me. “Mom made your favorite. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
I smiled.
“Sounds perfect.”
She nodded at the journal in my lap.
“Reading her words again?”
I nodded.
“Every day. It’s like she’s still here, telling me what to do.”
Lila laughed.
“She’s definitely still here. I can feel her. Yelling at me for letting Arthur get in the lake again. Telling you to stop working so hard. Telling both of us we need to find someone to love, so she can have grandkids.”
I laughed too.
That sounded exactly like her.
Mom came out onto the porch, holding three plates of food, Arthur dancing around her feet begging for scraps.
She set the plates down on the small table between us, sat down on my other side.
“Everything okay, baby?” she asked, putting her hand on my arm.
I looked at her.
At Lila.
At the lake, the sunset, the fireflies.
At the life Evelyn had given me.
I took a deep breath, let it out slow.
For the first time in my life, I felt completely safe.
Completely loved.
Completely at home.
I smiled, squeezed her hand.
“Everything is perfect, Mom. More than perfect.”
We ate dinner together, laughing, talking, making plans for the future.
A trip to the ocean in the fall.
Expanding the shelter again next year.
Fixing up the old barn on the cottage property into a workshop for my business.
After dinner, Lila and Mom went inside to do the dishes.
I stayed on the porch, watching the stars come out.
I pulled Evelyn’s letter out of my pocket, the one I carried with me everywhere.
The last line:
Love always, Evelyn.
I held it to my chest, closed my eyes.
“Thank you, Evie,” I whispered. “For everything. I love you.”
A soft breeze blew off the lake, rustling the pine trees, carrying the faint smell of lavender and cinnamon.
Her smell.
For a second, I swear I felt her hand on my shoulder.
Heard her soft laugh in my ear.
You’re welcome, my boy.
I’m so proud of you.
I opened my eyes, smiled through the happy tears.
Somewhere, Evelyn was watching.
And she was happy too.
I stood up, walked inside, where my family was waiting for me.
Laughing.
Warm.
May you like
Home.
Exactly where I belonged.
