I head to the back of the food truck to change, taking in the new look of the exterior. Penelope even helped me apply a fresh coat of paint on the food truck the other day, then touched up the images and lettering.

I pop out and pull her into a hug. “Thank you. For everything. I’m beyond lucky to have you as a friend.”

I slip her an envelope with her pay for the day, plus a little extra for her help with painting. I try and fail to keep my mouth from stretching into a grin that would give away the surprise. I can’t help it though. Just a few months ago I was struggling to break even, but now, I’m thriving and can afford a surprise like this. It’s a game-changing feeling of accomplishment.

I wave to Penelope as she drives away, then make my way to Big Beach. The walk across Big Beach to Little Beach is long, but it’s what I need after hours of nonstop cooking and serving. I weave around the haphazard array of locals and tourists lying on the beach. Gazing at the crystal-blue waves crashing against the sand is the reset I ache for after being on my feet all day.

I cross the rocky mound that separates Big Beach and Little Beach without tripping or scrambling. My legs and feet remember the path perfectly, even though it’s been months.

Just then my phone buzzes with a text from Madeline.

Hey!! SO good chatting with you the other night! I absolutely cannot wait to come see you next month

I type back that I’m equally psyched. We’ve chatted a couple of times on the phone, and it’s like no time has passed at all. There are no pleasantries to power through before we feel comfortable. We simply dive back into chatting about our day, our rants, our raves. It feels so good to have my friend back. When I asked her to come visit, I wasn’t even nervous. And when she said yes, I bolted up from my bed, bursting with excitement.

I’m itching to show her around the island I now call home, to take her to my favorite eateries and beaches. Comfort sets in. Before I know it, I’m beaming. Finally, after all the struggle and uncertainty, it feels like I earned my spot here on this island, like I belong. Like I’m home.

I’m nowhere near Baldwin Beach, but I whisper assurances to my dad, certain he’s listening.

“It’s all going to be good, Dad. Just like I promised.”

Before, I always had to be home or at Baldwin to feel connected to him. But right now, I feel closer to him than I ever have since he’s been gone. Because I know now that no matter where I am or where I go, he’s always with me.