Page 33 of The Beach Shack Summer
“It’s not a crisis. It’s just... an aggressive life reorganization.”
“Tyler. Go.”
Tyler escaped before Stella could emerge and change her mind about going. As he drove toward the marina, he tried to figure out what exactly he wanted to say to Luke.My life exploded and I don’t know which pieces to pick up first.Or maybe just:Help.
The marina came into view, boats bobbing gently in their slips. Luke would understand. Luke alwaysunderstood. Even when Tyler didn’t understand himself.
Time to figure out how to live in this new reality where secrets came to light and sisters dated best friends and teenage daughters wanted Pop-Tarts with pulpy orange juice.
CHAPTER NINE
The marina office smelled like coffee and neoprene, a combination that immediately made Tyler’s shoulders drop from their position near his ears. Luke sat behind a desk covered in tide charts and permit applications, but he pushed everything aside when Tyler walked in.
“You look like hell,” Luke said, already pouring a second mug.
“Thanks. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” Tyler collapsed into the visitor’s chair. “My life has exploded.”
“I noticed.” Luke slid the coffee across. “The secret daughter was a clue.”
“Not just Stella. Everything. A month ago I had a system. A routine. I knew what each day would look like.” Tyler stared into his mug. “Now I’ve got a teenager who hates me living in my office, Meg’s turned my house into corporate headquarters, andMargo’s already planning to ‘great-grandmother thoroughly,’ whatever that means.”
“And you’re freaking out.”
“I’m not freaking out. I’m... aggressively reassessing my life choices.” Tyler took a long sip of coffee. “She won’t even unpack, Luke. Just keeps her bag by the door like she might bolt any second.”
“She’s scared.”
“Of what? I’m not gonna—I would never?—”
“Not of you. Of wanting this.” Luke leaned back in his chair. “I’ve taught hundreds of kids to surf over the years. You know what the scared ones do? They sit on the beach forever, checking their leash, adjusting their wetsuit, finding reasons not to paddle out.”
“So?”
“So you don’t push them. You just keep showing up. Keep making it safe. Eventually they realize the water’s not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
Tyler slumped lower. “What if she never unpacks? What if she spends the whole summer with one foot out the door?”
“Then she spends the summer that way. But she’ll still be here.” Luke studied him. “Tyler, she chose to come. Fiona gave her the option, right? She could have said no.”
“Her mother remarried. New husband, new kids. Where else was she gonna go?”
“Anywhere. She’s sixteen, not six. Could’ve thrown a fit, refused to leave Sydney, made everyone’s life hell until they gave up.” Luke refilled his mug. “Instead, shegot on a plane to live with a father she barely knows. That took guts.”
“Or desperation.”
“Maybe both. Point is, she’s here. In your former office, eating your donuts, demanding Pop-Tarts. That’s something.”
Tyler rubbed his face. “Meg’s taking her grocery shopping. They’re probably in the cereal aisle right now, judging my food choices.”
“Good. Let them bond over your terrible taste in breakfast foods.” Luke pulled out his phone, showed Tyler a text. “See? Meg says they’re debating the merits of pulp in orange juice.”
“She wants pulp. Who raised this kid?”
“Someone who wasn’t you, which is why she’s interesting.” Luke set the phone aside. “You’ve got to stop trying to make up for sixteen years in one week.”
“It’s been three days.”
“Exactly. Three days and she’s already got her own room, she’s going shopping with her aunt, she’s eating dinner with you. That’s huge progress.”
