Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Meg arrived at the Beach Shack to find the entire Beach Shack dining room completely unrecognizable. Stella had texted that there might be some…issues, and to prepare herself.
“Hello, Mrs. Borden,” Meg called, reaching for her apron. “Looking for your usual spot?”
“I can’t find my usual spot,” Mrs. Borden said, still turning. “The window table is gone, and there’s a condiment station where I normally sit, and I don’t understand what happened to everything.”
Meg looked around the dining room and felt her stomach drop.
Bernie’s corner booth sat marooned in the center of the room like a lost island.
The coffee station had been moved to the left, forcing customers to climb around furniture to reach cream and sugar.
Mrs. Walker’s window table now housed salt, pepper, and napkins in a completely unreachable.
“Let me help you find somewhere,” Meg said, guiding Mrs. Borden to the only available window spot. “How about here? Different table, same view.”
“But this isn’t my table. I’ve been sitting in the same spot for twelve years.”
“Same window, just shifted over,” Meg assured her.
Tyler appeared from the kitchen, camera bag over his shoulder.
“Hello, Mrs. Borden,” he said.
“Your furniture has been relocated,” Mrs. Borden informed him. “It’s very disorienting.”
“Ah. I heard this wasn’t going well.”
“Understatement. Where is Anna?” Meg asked, already moving toward Bernie’s displaced booth.
“Outside with Bea, measuring something called ‘circulation patterns,’” Tyler said.
“Of course she is.” Meg grabbed one end of Bernie’s booth. “Tyler, could you help me move this back before—”
“Actually, I need to get to the Festival,” Tyler said, already backing toward the door. “Big day today. Very important documentation schedule.”
“Tyler,” Meg said, “this will take five minutes.”
“And I’m supposed to be there in three.” Tyler gave her an apologetic smile. “But you’ve got this! You’re great at organizing things.”
The door chimed as Tyler escaped, leaving Meg standing next to Bernie’s booth island.
“Excuse me,” called a voice from the entrance. “Where do we order? The counter’s blocked by this table.”
Meg looked over to see a family of five clustered by the entrance, not sure how to get inside.
“Just squeeze around the booth,” Stella said, appearing at Meg’s elbow with the coffee pot.
Meg watched Stella guide the family around the furniture obstacle course, effortlessly navigating Anna’s artistic vision while keeping customers moving.
The front door opened and Anna breezed in alone, sketchpad tucked under her arm and a measuring tape draped around her neck.
“Hi, Meg!” Anna called brightly. “Isn’t the new flow amazing? You can actually feel how much more intentional the space is now.”
“Anna,” Meg said carefully, “people can’t find anywhere to sit.”
“They just need to adjust to the improved layout,” Anna said, settling at the counter to organize her sketches. “Mrs. Borden, how does the window feel? Much better natural light access than that corner spot, right?”
Mrs. Borden looked at Anna with the patient expression of someone who’d raised five children. “Dear, I just want to sit in the same spot I’ve been sitting for twelve years and drink my coffee.”
“But now you’re experiencing optimized light exposure,” Anna explained. “It’s much more mindful.”
“The new layout is interesting,” Meg said diplomatically, already moving toward Bernie’s stranded booth, “but maybe we could adjust it gradually? Give people time to adapt?”
“Oh,” Anna said, looking around as if seeing the navigation problems for the first time. “I suppose some people resist change. Well, I have a few weeks before school starts again, so there’s time to help everyone adjust properly.”
“Customers keep bumping into the booth,” Joey reported from behind the register, where he was trying to direct traffic around the furniture obstacles. “And I can’t reach the condiment station to restock anything. It’s by the window now.”
Meg moved through the dining room, pushing Bernie’s booth back to its corner home.
“Meg, what are you doing?” Anna asked.
“Just adjusting things for the morning rush,” Meg said, her voice cheerful. “Maybe we could try the new layout again when people have more time to appreciate it?”
Anna looked mildly disappointed but not devastated. “I suppose not everyone’s ready for workflow optimization. Well, I have plenty of other projects to focus on.”
She gathered her sketches, already moving on to the next creative vision.
Meg finished restoring the furniture while Stella helped confused customers navigate back to their familiar spots.
“And... scene,” Stella announced, refilling coffee cups. “Normal layout restored. Crisis averted.”
"Thanks," Meg said, slumping against the counter.
"You know," Stella said quietly, "Anna genuinely didn't realize people were confused. She was so focused on the improvement that she couldn't see the actual problems."
Meg nodded. “I know. Believe me, I know,” Meg said, running her hands through her hair. “Thanks for stepping up, Stella.”
Meg looked up to see Margo watching the two of them as she flipped grilled cheese, seemingly without a care in the world. It was odd, Meg thought, that Margo would allow all this at her beloved Beach Shack.
The afternoon crowd had thinned out, and everything settled back into its familiar rhythm.
"Well," Bernie said from his restored corner booth, looking up from his tablet, "everything's looking... normal again."
"It was quite an afternoon," Meg said, smoothing her apron.
By closing time, everything was running smoothly again. Just like always.