Page 76 of The Beach Shack Summer
“Sure. We could stop by Salt Creek, check the waves.”
“Cool.”
They headed back to the truck. As Tyler drove toward the beach, Stella was quiet, staring out the window.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Meeting even more of these Beach Shack people who’ve known you forever.” She picked at a thread on her jeans. “They probably have opinions.”
“About what?”
“About you having a secret kid. About me showing up and disrupting everything.”
Tyler pulled into the Salt Creek parking lot, turning to face her. “Hey. Look at me.”
She did, reluctantly.
“Nobody thinks you’re disrupting anything. You’re not a secret or a problem or whatever story you’re telling yourself. You’re my daughter. Margo’s great-granddaughter. Part of the family business. That’s it.”
“But—”
“No buts. Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with me. And Margo. And Meg. And probably Joey, who would defend you with napkin-folding fury.”
That got a small smile. “Napkin-folding fury?”
“Very precisely angled napkin-folding fury.”
“Terrifying.”
“The most terrifying.”
They sat for a moment, watching surfers paddle out through the morning waves.
“Want to get ice cream?” Tyler asked suddenly.
Stella looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “It’s 8 AM.”
“So?”
“So ice cream for breakfast is insane.”
“I thought you were embracing the weird.”
“Weird has limits.” But she was smiling now, the tension easing. “Maybe later. After you pretend to teach me things about photography I already know.”
“Pretend?”
“Please. I’ve been watching you work for weeks. F-stop, shutter speed, ISO. I got it.”
“Yeah? What’s the rule of thirds?”
“Divide your frame into a three-by-three grid, place subjects along the lines or intersections for dynamic composition.”
Tyler stared at her. “Have you been reading my books?”
