Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Meg found Luke at Salt Creek, crouched over a tide pool with his coffee balanced precariously on a rock and what looked like research notes getting splashed by the waves.
“Working or playing marine biologist?” she asked, stepping carefully around the slippery rocks to join him.
“Both. Check this out.” He pointed to a cluster of bright orange sea stars clinging to the rocks. “Perfect specimen of Pisaster ochraceus. Haven’t seen a group this healthy in months.”
“They’re beautiful.” Meg settled beside him, grateful for the quiet. She’d escaped the Beach Shack as soon as the lunch rush ended, needing space to decompress from the morning’s chaos.
“You look like you’ve had a day,” Luke said, setting down his pen and giving her his full attention. “Everything okay?”
“Define okay.” Meg picked up a piece of sea glass, rolling it between her fingers. “Anna reorganized the entire restaurant. Called it the Florence Method.”
“That sounds... ambitious.”
“That sounds like Anna.” Meg laughed, though it came out slightly strained. “She had this whole system based on circulation patterns and aesthetic harmony. Moved Bernie’s booth to the middle of the room for better energy flow.”
Luke straightened, clearly sensing there was more to the story. “How did that go over with customers?”
“About as well as you’d expect. Mrs. Borden couldn’t find her usual window spot because the condiment station was there. Bernie’s booth was in the middle of the dining room. Just hanging there.” Meg stood, brushing sand off her jeans. “Want to walk? I need to move around.”
They headed down the beach, Luke somehow managing to carry his coffee and research notes without spilling either.
“So, what happened?” Luke asked.
“I had to move everything back. Took about forty minutes to drag Bernie’s booth to his corner, relocate the condiment station so people could actually reach it.
” Meg found a smooth rock and threw it toward the waves, watching it skip twice before disappearing.
“The customers were genuinely confused, Luke. Someone had to fix it.”
“That must have been stressful.”
“It was chaos. But at least Anna saw how confused people were getting. I’m sure she learned from it.” Meg picked up another rock, testing its weight. “She really thought she was helping. Making the place more beautiful, more harmonious.”
“She means well.”
“She does mean well. That’s what makes it hard.” She threw the second rock, watching it disappear into the waves. “I’ve tried talking to her about thinking things through first, you know? But she just gets defensive. Says I’m limiting her creative potential.”
Luke was quiet for a moment, letting her process. “How are you feeling about all of it?”
“Exhausted,” Meg admitted. “But it’s fine. It’s handled. And honestly, I think this morning was a wake-up call for Anna. She saw firsthand how her improvements affected customers.”
They walked in silence for a while, skirting around early beachgoers setting up for the day. The morning fog was starting to burn off, promising another perfect Southern California day.
“Tyler wasn’t around to help?” Luke asked gently.
“Tyler had urgent Festival business right when everything started falling apart.” Meg’s voice carried a familiar resignation. “He’s got perfect timing for avoiding Anna’s projects.”
“Strategic timing?”
“Yes. Though to be fair, his photography work is important too. And really, Anna’s experiments usually sort themselves out eventually.” Meg found a perfect sand dollar and bent to pick it up, checking for cracks. “This one just needed a little help getting back to reality.”
“You make it sound routine.”
“Anna’s artistic phases come and go. This was just more public than usual.” She examined the sand dollar more closely. “The good news is, now she knows what doesn’t work. I can’t imagine she’d try something like this again.”
Luke nodded, not pushing further. “How’s Stella handling all the family creativity?”
“Stella was amazing. She jumped right in, helped customers navigate around the relocated furniture, kept everything running smoothly.” Meg tucked the sand dollar into her pocket. “She’s so competent for sixteen. Really stepped up.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility for a teenager.”
“She didn’t seem to mind. And she’s good at it—organizing, problem-solving, keeping things calm. Natural talent for crisis management.”
They paused at a cluster of tide pools, watching hermit crabs scuttle between the rocks. Luke pointed out a bright green anemone tucked between the stones.
“These little ecosystems are fascinating,” he said. “Everything has its role, but when one element gets disrupted, the whole system has to adjust.”
“Sounds familiar,” Meg said with a wry smile. “Though our ecosystem adjusted pretty quickly. Anna’s back to her art, customers are happy, everything’s running normally again.”
“And you’re confident Anna learned from the experience?”
“She had to have learned something. Seeing Mrs. Borden looking lost, watching Bernie trying to navigate around his displaced booth—Anna’s not heartless.
She cares about people.” Meg found another rock to throw.
“Besides, she got it out of her system. The Florence Method is officially implemented and retired.”
They continued walking, the conversation shifting to Luke’s research and the health of the local tide pool ecosystem. But Meg found herself relaxing for the first time since the morning revelation.
“Can I ask you something?” she said as they turned back toward the parking area.
“Always.”
“Do you think I overreacted? Getting stressed about the furniture situation?”
Luke considered this carefully. “I think you saw a problem and solved it. That’s what good managers do.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I worry too much about things that might resolve themselves.”
“Maybe. But today your customers needed help finding somewhere to sit. That’s pretty immediate.”
Meg felt validated. “Exactly. It wasn’t like I could just leave people wandering around confused.”
They’d reached their cars, but neither moved to leave. The morning sun was warm on Meg’s face, and the tension from Anna’s artistic experiment had finally dissolved.
“Thanks for listening,” she said. “And for not telling me I’m overthinking things.”
“Are you overthinking things?”
“Probably. But at least the crisis is over.” She unlocked her car door. “And I’m sure Anna will stick to her art projects from now on. This was enough restaurant improvement for anyone.”
Luke stepped closer, his hand finding hers. “Well, if any more artistic chaos happens, you know where to find me.”
“Even if it’s the same complaint multiple times?”
“Especially then. I’m good at listening to people process restaurant drama.”
Meg smiled, feeling lighter. The Anna situation was resolved, lessons had been learned, and life could go back to normal. “I should get back. Anna’s probably in the kitchen helping Margo with prep.”
“Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.” She squeezed his hand. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Anna redesign the menu?”
“Don’t give her ideas.”
“After this morning? Trust me, Anna’s had enough of restaurant improvements for a while.”
Luke laughed, and Meg felt the last of her morning stress disappear. Sometimes all you needed was someone who understood why you had to fix things, even when fixing things was exhausting.
The Anna situation was handled. Everything was back to normal. And most importantly, Anna had learned her lesson.