Page 23 of The Beach Shack Artists 3
"From trying to keep up," Stella said gently. "Like when she moved all the condiments by color temperature. It looked beautiful, but Mrs. Walker couldn't find the salt."
There was a pause. Bea's pen hovered above a napkin, then lowered.
"I guess I never thought about how people see her when I'm not... explaining things," she said quietly.
Joey winced. "We shouldn't have said anything."
"No, it's okay." Bea folded her napkin carefully. "I just... I wonder what she'd sound like without me translating all the time."
They let that hang in the air. Then Stella shook her head with a rueful smile.
"Look at us, acting more grown up than the grown-ups. We're having a family dynamics conversation while they're all avoiding each other."
Bea laughed, but it was quieter than usual. She grabbed a clean order ticket and wrote "GRILLED CHEESE" in clear block letters.
"Take that, Mr. Coffee Drinker #4," she announced. "But don't get used to it."
The front door chimed, and Bernie entered with his usual purposeful stride, tablet already in hand.
"Afternoon, young documentarians," he said, settling at his corner booth. "How's the family pattern analysis going?"
"How did you—never mind," Stella said. "I should know better than to be surprised by anything you say."
"Information flows in small communities," Bernie said modestly. "Plus, I've been running informal observations on family dynamics. Very educational."
"What kind of observations?" Bea asked with curiosity.
"Well, Anna's at even money to implement another improvement project before anyone explains why the last one didn't work. Tyler's got a fascinating pattern of appearing and disappearing like a helpful ghost—zero percent chance of actual communication during crisis moments."
"That's disturbingly accurate," Stella admitted.
"I prefer 'empirically sound,'" Bernie said, looking pleased. "Joey here has consistent stress-folding patterns that correlate directly with Pageant rehearsal intensity."
"Hey!" Joey protested, immediately freezing in Coffee Drinker Number Two Contemplating Mortality. "I'm very reliable."
"You're very dramatic," Stella said. "There's a difference."
"Drama is reliability with better lighting," Joey said, not moving from his position.
"This is harassment," he added, still maintaining perfect stillness.
"This is documentation," Bernie said. "Very important documentation. Twenty-three seconds that time—new record."
"Do you think they know they're doing it?" Stella asked, gesturing toward the kitchen where they could see Anna enthusiastically reorganizing spice jars while Margo watched with quiet amusement.
"Probably not," Bea said. "People don't usually notice their own weird habits."
"Question is," Joey said, finally breaking his pose to refill coffee, "who's gonna crack first?"
"Aunt Meg," Stella said. "She's getting that same look you get when Bea asks if the sandwich wants to be 'architecturally expressive.'"
"Food has feelings," Bea defended. "And artistic potential."
"Right," Joey said. "Very practical geometric art. With feelings."
Bernie chuckled, typing something on his tablet. "Meg's definitely showing signs of what I call 'intervention fatigue.' Two-to-one odds she has a direct confrontation with Anna within the week."
"What about Margo?" Joey asked.
