They’d decided to keep the entire affair low-key. Simple and unfussy, just like Maggie. The woman had made it clear she didn’t want “fancy.” She wanted comfortable. Louisa looked around at the family-style meal they were about to serve—all of Maggie’s favorite foods, even though they didn’t necessarily go together. Louisa had even ordered single-serve containers of Lucky Charms, which were lined up on a table next to the cutest little milk bottles she’d ever seen, neatly arranged in a tub of ice. They’d hired a DJ who’d been instructed to only play the oldies, and while Louisa wasn’t sure if that meant songs from the fifties or songs from the thirties, she decided to let him figure it out. Currently “I Can’t Help Myself” was playing in the background, and the guests who’d already arrived seemed to approve.

They’d put up two large tents, and Louisa had created a spot for their guest of honor, a seat that almost resembled a throne. It was fitting. Maggie wasn’t regal or elegant, but she was still a queen.

The beach began to fill with people—friends, neighbors, former coworkers. Everyone was happy to come out and celebrate this no-nonsense woman who’d spent her years speaking truth and life into all of them.

Maggie sat under the tent in a white Adirondack chair, surrounded by pillows and covered with her afghan from inside. She greeted everyone with her trademark down-home love as if they were the only person in the world who mattered—because of course, in that moment, they were.

“You ready for this?”

Louisa followed Ally’s gaze to the yard, where Cody, his mom, and his sister had just appeared.

Her eyes locked on to his, and for a moment, she was paralyzed with desire. She missed him more than she should. He looked away and her heart sank. He was back to avoiding her. And it was all her fault.

She turned and found Maggie staring at her. The old woman held her gaze for several long seconds, and then she winked.

Louisa should warn her about all that had transpired lately. As Maggie’s health had worsened, Louisa found there wasn’t time for their usual heart-to-hearts. Maggie didn’t know Louisa and Cody were on a break. Louisa couldn’t have told her that even if she’d wanted to—she would’ve choked on the words.

She watched as Cody led his mom and sister down to where Maggie sat. Marley had certainly grown up and now looked a lot like an older version of Barbie’s little sister, Skipper. Her hair was much lighter than Cody’s, but she was as beautiful as he was handsome.

Louisa’s eyes drifted over to her own father, who’d sat up straighter and focused on the three newcomers with great interest—and was that worry knit across his brow?