Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The coffee shop on Forest Avenue had the kind of worn wooden tables and mismatched chairs that made conversations feel both casual and important. Meg slid into the corner booth, grateful for the normalcy of meeting her oldest friends for their monthly catch-up.
Paige arrived first, event planner skills on full display as she juggled her phone, planner, and iced coffee. "Sorry, bride emergency. Apparently having a beach wedding means the sand might get sandy. Who knew?"
Natalie appeared moments later, lesson plans tucked under her arm and that particular glazed look that came from spending the morning trying to figure out how to make Shakespeare relevant to teenagers who hadn't been born yet.
"Please tell me someone has normal human problems to discuss," she said, sliding into the booth.
"My eyes are crossing from writing curriculum. "
"Define normal," Meg said with a laugh. "I called my sister a diva last night."
"To her face?" Paige asked, eyes lighting up with interest.
"To her face. At the dinner table. In front of everyone."
Natalie and Paige exchanged glances—the look of people who had known Anna Walsh since middle school and understood exactly what this meant.
"How did that go over?" Natalie asked carefully.
"About as well as you'd expect. Anna stormed out. Bea looked mortified. Tyler pretended to suddenly need more wine." Meg traced lines on the condensation of her glass. "I'm not sure it helped anything."
"But how did it feel?" Paige asked with a grin.
"Honestly? Pretty good. For about thirty seconds." Meg laughed. "Then I remembered I have to live with her for the rest of the summer."
"Speaking of which," Natalie said, "how's Anna's artistic takeover going? I heard Bernie's been... expressive about some recent changes at the Shack."
Meg groaned. "The Florence Method. Anna reorganized the entire restaurant based on circulation and aesthetic harmony. Moved Bernie's booth to the center of the room for better energy flow."
"Classic Anna," Paige said, shaking her head. "Remember eighth grade when she decided to improve the science fair by adding interpretive dance to her volcano project?"
"And somehow convinced three other kids to be her backup dancers while their actual projects were forgotten in the background," Natalie added.
"Same energy," Meg confirmed. "Except now instead of ruining a school project, she's confusing paying customers. Mrs. Henderson couldn't find the condiment station. People were navigating around furniture just to order coffee."
"And Bernie?" Paige asked, knowing Bernie's legendary attachment to his corner booth.
"Bernie was not amused. He spent twenty minutes explaining to anyone who'd listen how his booth had been in that corner for fifteen years and the acoustics were all wrong in the center.
" Meg smiled. "I think his exact words were 'some people think they can just rearrange other people's lives without asking. '"
"Ouch. How's Margo handling the Bernie situation?"
"Margo thinks it's hilarious. She said Bernie needed his routine shaken up anyway." Meg paused. "Actually, that's been the strangest part of this whole summer. Watching everyone adapt instead of expecting me to fix everything immediately."
"That sounds like growth," Natalie said.
"It feels weird. Good weird, but weird." Meg's expression softened. "Speaking of good weird, Luke's been helping with closing duties at the Shack."
Both friends immediately perked up, recognizing the shift in Meg's tone.
"Luke Donovan?" Paige asked with barely contained excitement. "Your old surf instructor Luke Donovan?"
"He's not my old anything anymore," Meg said, trying to sound casual. "He's my... current everything."
"Current everything?" Natalie laughed. "Look at you being all romantic and non-corporate in your language."
"We're together. Really together. He shows up, helps with cleanup, listens to me complain about Anna's artistic visions without trying to fix them for me." Meg smiled. "It's nice having someone who supports my decisions instead of questioning them."
"That's a big deal for you," Paige said gently. "Letting someone that close."
"Huge deal. Terrifying deal." Meg's smile grew wider. "But also the best thing that's happened to me in years."
"Are you in love?" Natalie asked directly.
"Completely. Hopelessly. It's ridiculous." Meg laughed. "Three months ago I was convinced I was too busy for relationships, and now I can't imagine not having him around."
"I love this for you," Paige said. "You deserve someone who appreciates how amazing you are."
"He does. Even when I'm being controlling and anxious about family chaos." Meg paused. "Can I ask you something? What are people saying? About the Shack, I mean. The furniture rearrangement, Anna being back, all of it."
Paige and Natalie exchanged glances.
"Nothing terrible," Natalie said carefully. "Just... people noticing that things feel different. Bernie's been vocal about his booth situation, obviously."
"And Mrs. Franklin mentioned that her usual routine got disrupted when she couldn't find her table," Paige added. "But not in a mean way. More like concerned grandmother wondering if everything's okay."
"People love Margo," Natalie said. "And they want the Shack to succeed. But you know how small towns are—they notice when familiar rhythms get shaken up."
"So, they think we're incompetent," Meg said, feeling her stomach tighten.
"Not incompetent. Just... in transition. Which you are." Paige reached across the table to squeeze Meg's hand. "Change is messy. People understand that."
"But they also depend on the Shack being reliable," Natalie said gently. "When that consistency gets disrupted, even for creative reasons, it makes people nervous."
Meg nodded, processing this. It was one thing to manage family chaos in private; it was another to realize the whole community was watching their experiment unfold.
"The thing is," Paige said, "I think most people are rooting for you all. Anna's always been part of this community, even when she was away. And everyone knows how much Margo loves having family around."
"Plus, Bea and Stella are both sweethearts," Natalie added. "Bea helped me carry groceries last week, and Stella always says hello when she sees me. They're good kids."
"They are good kids. Stella especially has been amazing—she just jumps in and helps wherever she's needed." Meg smiled. "It's funny, I came back here thinking I'd help Margo for a few weeks and then go back to my real life. But this feels more real than anything I was doing in San Francisco."
"What about your work?" Paige asked.
"Still working, just remotely. That big hotel client in San Clemente has been keeping me busy, but it's different now.
It feels like meaningful work instead of just climbing corporate ladders.
" Meg tapped her spoon on the table. "I keep thinking about what I want my life to look like in five years, and none of it involves conference rooms or commute stress. "
"What does it involve?" Natalie asked.
"This. The Shack, the community, work that feels purposeful. Family dinners that sometimes turn into artistic chaos." Meg paused. "And Luke. Definitely Luke."
"Sounds like you're building something," Paige said.
"That's exactly what it feels like. For the first time in years, I'm building instead of just managing what already exists."
They finished their coffee talking about lighter things—Paige's latest wedding disasters, Natalie's plans for the upcoming school year, Meg's adjustment to small-town rhythms. But as they prepared to leave, Paige caught Meg's arm.
"You know what I love about seeing you now?" she said. "You look happy. Really happy. Not just successful or accomplished, but genuinely happy."
Walking back to her car, Meg thought about her friends' words. They were right—she was building something new, messy and uncertain and completely different than anything she'd planned.
The community might be watching, Anna might cause more artistic chaos, and the future might be unclear.
But she was in love, she was part of something meaningful, and for the first time in years, she was excited to see what happened next.