Page 4 of The Beach Shack Artists 3
They'll be good for each other.
Another buzz. Anna, sending a photo from their hotel—her and Bea surrounded by mountains of luggage, both grinning.
Almost there! Can't wait! Bea's already talking about that lemon pasta.
Meg typed back.
Can't wait either. Everything's ready.
Then, because she couldn't help herself.
How much luggage is there?
Just the essentials! And maybe some art supplies. And Bea's collection of vintage scarves. And possibly a few extra canvases...
Anna. Where exactly do you think you're going to PUT all that?
We'll figure it out! That's half the fun! Bea's already planning how to arrange her corner. She's very excited about the light in the guest room.
Tell her I got those blackout curtains she can adjust if she needs to sleep in.
You're the best! See you tomorrow!
Half the fun. Meg looked around her organized living room and took a deep breath. Tomorrow, all of this careful arrangement would be upended by Anna's usual beautiful mess.
"Ready for dinner?" Luke asked, keys jingling. "Last quiet evening for a while."
"Let me just check the guest room one more time?—"
"Meg." He caught her hand. "It's perfect. You've checked it four times."
She let him lead her to the truck, but couldn't stop herself from glancing back at the house. Had she remembered to put extra towels in the hall closet? What about getting the good coffee?
The restaurant was perfect—quiet, intimate, with a view of the ocean as the sun began its descent. They ordered wine and the fish special, settling into their usual routine.
"You know what I was thinking about today?" Luke said, cutting into his salmon. “Tyler told me that one time Anna painted a mural on your garage wall without asking.”
"Oh God." Meg nearly choked on her wine. "The giant octopus. I came home from work and there was this massive sea creature covering the entire side of the house."
“He said it was actually pretty good."
"It was beautiful. That was the problem. But we had to paint over it. Took three coats of paint.”
“Too bad you couldn’t keep it.”
“I know.” Meg smiled at the memory. "The neighbors kept asking who my artist was. Mrs. Walker wanted to commission Anna to do her garden shed."
"See? Chaos, but good chaos."
They lingered over dessert, Luke telling her about the family of sea otters that had taken up residence near his favorite surf spot, Meg updating him on the passive-aggressive email chain with her most demanding client. Normal. Easy. The life they'd built together.
But even as she laughed at his stories, Meg found herself thinking about logistics. They'd need to leave by one o'clock to reach the airport safely. Traffic on the 405 could be unpredictable. Should she bring flowers for Anna? Was that too much? What if their flight was delayed?
"You're doing it again," Luke said gently.
"What?"
"Planning. I can see the wheels turning."
