Page 98 of The Beach Shack Summer
“You forgot Herbert. Cold pizza, warm wine, and a succulent witness.”
“Even better.”
They settled at the kitchen table, sharing leftover pizza and wine, talking about everything and nothing. Luke told her about the tide pool project moving forward. She admitted she’d almost taken Tyler’s label maker too but showed restraint.
“So noble,” he teased.
“I have my limits. Very few, but they exist.”
“What’s the plan for tomorrow? First day in the new office?”
“Conference calls without bathroom echoes. Living the dream.” She played with her wine glass. “And checking on Tyler and Stella approximately every hour.”
“They’ll be fine.”
“I know. That’s what scares me.” She looked around the empty kitchen. “What if they don’t need me?”
“Meg.” Luke took her hand. “They’ll always need you. Just differently. Not as a buffer or a referee or a bathroom-conference-call coordinator. As family.”
“When did you get so smart about family dynamics?”
“I’ve been watching yours for years. It’s like a nature documentary. Fascinating behavioral patterns.”
She laughed despite herself. “We’re not that bad.”
“You literally just moved three doors away and acted like it was an arctic expedition.”
“There was a succulent involved. That’s serious business.”
“Of course. Herbert changes everything.”
They talked until the wine was gone and the pizza was just a memory. Luke helped her arrange the few things she’d brought, making the house feel slightly less like a museum. When he finally left, with another kiss that made her knees weak, Meg felt something settle in her chest.
Change was hard. Three doors felt like three hundred. But maybe that was okay. Maybe the distance was exactly what they all needed.
She looked at Herbert, stationed proudly on the windowsill.
“Just you and me now,” she told the succulent. “Think we can make this work?”
Herbert, being a succulent, didn’t answer. But the house felt a little less empty, a little more like possibility.
Tomorrow she’d have her first real workday in her own space. Tomorrow Tyler and Stella would navigate breakfast without her. Tomorrow everything would be different.
But tonight, she could still taste wine and Luke’s kisses, could still hear echoes of laughter from dinner, could still feel the warmth of being wanted even three doors away.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was a start.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The morning after Meg’s move, Tyler found Stella in the kitchen staring at the coffee maker like it might explain the meaning of life.
“It’s the same machine,” he offered from the doorway.
“I know. It just looks different without Meg’s seventeen coffee cups surrounding it.” She pressed the button with unnecessary force. “Everything looks different.”
He couldn’t argue. The kitchen felt simultaneously too empty and properly sized, like a room exhaling after holding its breath too long. Meg’s sticky notes were gone from the fridge, her papers cleared from every surface, her printer no longer humming its constant soundtrack.
“Driving lesson today?” he asked, trying for normal.
