Page 18 of The Beach Shack Artists 3
Though she might suggest Bea work the evening cleanup shifts for a while. Joey could only handle so many butterfly sandwiches in one day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tyler pushed through the front door at 6:45 p.m., camera bag sliding off his shoulder and hitting the floor with a thud.
“I’m alive,” he announced to the hallway. “Barely.”
The house smelled like actual food—not cereal, not toast, but something that involved heat and possibly vegetables. Tyler followed his nose to the kitchen, where he found Stella at the stove, stirring something in a pan.
“You cooked,” he said.
“I reheated leftover pasta. Don’t nominate me for an award.”
Tyler collapsed into a kitchen chair. “I can’t feel my feet.”
“How long were you standing on concrete?”
“All day. Do you know how many pottery booths there are? Forty-seven. Patricia Henderson has three of them.”
Stella looked up from the stove. “Three?”
“The stages of seagull grief, apparently. It requires extensive space.”
“Of course it does.”
“I photographed more pottery today than should legally exist.” Tyler rubbed his eyes. “There’s also a woman who makessculptures from driftwood and internal sorrow, and someone who might be Patricia’s artistic nemesis.”
“Patricia has a nemesis?”
“Another ceramic artist. They positioned their booths to face away from each other.” Tyler grinned. “Bernie’s already got odds on whether they’ll have words by the end of the week.”
“What are the odds?”
“Even money Patricia makes the first move.”
Stella turned off the burner and divided the pasta between two bowls. “Sounds like quality entertainment.”
Tyler stared at the food she set in front of him. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“You would’ve eaten cereal for dinner.”
“Cereal is a valid dinner choice.”
“For six-year-olds.”
“And photographers who are too tired to function.” Tyler took a bite. “How was your day? Less pottery-related, I assume.”
“Much less. Though Joey’s stress-folding napkins has reached new levels of precision.”
“Pageant nerves?”
“Pageant everything. He’s practicing coffee-drinking poses.”
“There are poses?”
“Apparently Coffee Drinker Number Two requires specific arm positioning.”
Tyler laughed. “Poor Joey.”
