Page 15 of The Beach Shack Artists 3
“Adaptive,” Joey said, stress-folding napkins while watching Anna turn cheese prep into performance art. “I’m expanding my definition of normal.”
“And Anna?”
“Fulfilled,” Anna said, looking up from her perfectly sliced cheddar with genuine satisfaction. “I never realized how much creativity there was in food prep. Every knife stroke is like a brushstroke on canvas.”
After Bernie left, Anna turned to Stella with newfound enthusiasm. “You were right about mindful efficiency. I feel so much more connected to the work when I can bring artistic intention to it.”
“The cheese is definitely grateful,” Stella said, managing to keep her tone completely serious.
“Exactly! And look—” Anna gestured at their prep station, which was somehow both aesthetically pleasing and completely functional. “Beautiful and practical aren’t opposites. They’re partners.”
Bea nodded sagely. “Like us!”
“You know what?” Stella said, reaching for her camera. “Maybe I should document this. The different ways people approach the same work.”
“That’s very observant,” Anna said approvingly. “You see the patterns in how families work together.”
“Maybe I will,” Stella said, thinking about how she was becoming fluent in translation between artistic vision and practical reality, serving as an interpreter between two different approaches to the same goal.
By closing, they’d not only survived their morning together but actually accomplished more than usual. Anna and Bea had brought creative energy to routine tasks, Joey had learned to appreciate artistic approaches that didn’t interfere with grilled cheese delivery, and Stella had discovered she was good at helping people find their best way to contribute.
“Same time tomorrow?” Anna asked as they cleaned up.
“Same time,” Stella confirmed. “Maybe we could try mindful dishwashing?”
“Everything can be art if you approach it with the right intention,” Bea agreed.
It was, Stella thought, actually kind of interesting. And definitely educational.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Bernie.
Successful integration confirmed. Different approaches, same results. You’re all more adaptable than anticipated.
Stella smiled and didn’t reply. Some patterns were still developing, but at least now they were developing in the right direction.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Margo Turner had been flipping grilled cheese sandwiches for fifty years, and she’d never seen anyone draw a butterfly to represent “with pickles.”
“Joey,” Bea said brightly, holding up the order slip, “look how the wings turned out! The green really captures the pickle essence.”
Joey stared at the ticket, his left eye twitching. “That’s... that’s supposed to be a grilled cheese with pickles?”
“Obviously! See the antennae? Those are the pickle slices.”
From her position at the grill, Margo pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She’d missed this—Bea's usual creative chaos. Though she hadn’t missed Joey’s panic face, which was currently approaching DefCon 1.
“The tickets have boxes,” Joey said slowly, as if explaining to a small child. “You just check GC for grilled cheese, then P for pickles. That’s it. That’s the whole system.”
“But that’s so limiting,” Bea protested, already sketching on another order slip. “Each sandwich has its own personality. This one—see the smiley face? That means extra tomatoes because the customer seemed really happy.”
“Did they ORDER extra tomatoes?”
Bea paused. “Well, no. But spiritually they wanted them.”
Stella appeared at the pass, smoothly grabbing the plates Margo had just finished. The girl had developed a sixth sense for when orders were ready, moving quickly in a way that made Margo proud.
“Is that supposed to be our order?” Stella asked, peering at Bea’s latest artistic creation—what looked like a small landscape with a sun.
