Page 49 of The Beach Shack
“Says the woman who wore that tutu to prom.”
“It was artistic! And I looked fabulous.” Anna paused. “Bea’s going to be so excited when I tell her you’re making friends. She’s been worried you were lonely.”
“She’s been worried about me?”
“Kids notice things. She asked me once why you always sounded tired on the phone, and whether you had anyone to have fun with in San Francisco.” Anna’s voice grew thoughtful. “I didn’t have a good answer.”
Meg absorbed this unexpected insight into her teenage niece’s perception of her life. “Did I really sound that isolated?”
“You sounded careful. Like you were afraid to want anything you couldn’t control.” Anna hesitated. “But you sound different now. Lighter.”
A couple walked past Meg’s bench, the woman laughing at something her partner had whispered in her ear.
“Anna? Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“How do you know when you’re ready to... I don’t know, let someone matter to you again?”
Anna was quiet for so long Meg wondered if the connection had cut out. Finally: “Are we talking about friends, or are we talking about someone specific?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Ah.” Anna’s voice carried a knowing warmth. “Well, in my extensive experience with matters of the heart—which consists mainly of one marriage, one divorce, and a lot of really good therapy—I’d say you’re ready when the fear of missing out starts feeling bigger than the fear of getting hurt.”
Meg considered this. “That’s surprisingly wise.”
“I have my moments. Plus, Dr. Martinez charges me two hundred dollars an hour for insights like that, so I’m basically a relationship expert now.” Anna paused. “Oh my gosh, this is about Luke, isn’t it? ”
Heat rose to Meg’s cheeks. “We’re just... he’s been helpful. With understanding the Beach Shack culture.”
“Uh-huh. And does this helpful Beach Shack cultural consultant happen to be single?”
“Anna!”
“I’m just asking! Research purposes only.” Anna’s grin was audible. “Look, all I’m saying is that if someone makes you want to take three-hour coffee breaks and ignore work calls, maybe pay attention to that impulse.”
A text notification chimed on Meg’s phone—probably Brad with another urgent issue. For once, she didn’t even glance at it.
“I should let you go,” Meg said. “I’m sure you have important art things to do.”
“Important art things can wait. This is much more interesting.” Anna paused. “Meg? I’m proud of you. For reaching out to Natalie and Paige, for letting yourselfenjoy it, for calling to tell me about it. That’s the sister I remember.”
“The sister who drove you crazy with her color-coded study schedules?”
“That’s the one.” Anna’s voice grew soft.
After they hung up, Meg sat on the bench for a few more minutes, watching the easy rhythm of small-town life flow around her. Couples walking hand in hand, kids on bicycles, neighbors stopping to chat on the sidewalk.
Her phone buzzed again—another work message she didn’t check. Instead, she gathered her groceries and walked slowly back to Tyler’s house.
Tonight, she would make herself a proper dinner using the fresh basil. Maybe call Anna back just to hear about Bea’s latest art project. Maybe even text Natalie about Thursday’s plans.
Simple things. Good things. The kind of things that couldn’t be optimized or scheduled, only enjoyed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Meg didn’t expect the invitation.
