“Since there’s a scared teenager involved,” Eleanor replied.
“Bernie said she looked ready to bolt at the Shack,” Margo muttered.
“Bernie’s usually right about people,” Vivian pointed out.
They sat with that truth for a moment. Outside, evening birds called to each other, ordinary life continuing while Margo’s world tilted on its axis.
“Maybe,” Letty said carefully, “this is a gift.”
“A gift?” Margo’s voice was flat.
“A chance. However she got here, whatever the reasons... she’s here. You have time with her that you didn’t have.”
“Time for what? She doesn’t know us. Doesn’t want to know us, from what I saw.” Margo reached for the wine bottle. “And Sam might miss the whole thing. Her own granddaughter.”
“Then we make sure she doesn’t,” Eleanor said with sudden determination. “We track Sam down. We get her here.”
“Sam goes where she wants,” Margo said tiredly. “Always has.”
“This is different. This is family.”
“Tyler’s been family for sixteen years and didn’t tell us about Stella,” Margo pointed out.
Silence again. The weight of secrets in the Walshfamily was nothing new, but this one felt heavier than most.
“You know what I keep thinking?” Margo said finally. “That she has Tyler’s eyes but I don’t know if she has his laugh. That she stood in my café today and I don’t know if she likes grilled cheese or if she’s allergic to tomatoes or what her favorite color is.”
“So find out,” Vivian said gently.
“How? Everyone’s circling the wagons. Tyler needs space. Meg can’t talk. The girl looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.” Margo’s composure finally cracked. “I’m her great-grandmother and I don’t even know if she likes the ocean.”
Eleanor moved to sit beside her, arm around her shoulders. “Oh, honey.”
“Sam’s going to miss it all,” Margo whispered. “Just like she missed everything else. And maybe that’s why Tyler didn’t tell us. Because what’s the point of telling a family that’s barely a family?”
“Stop that,” Vivian said firmly. “You’re a family. Complicated, yes. Scattered, maybe. But family.”
“A family that keeps secrets.”
“Every family keeps secrets,” Nadine said. “The question is what you do when they come to light.”
Margo wiped her eyes, straightening. “I wait. I give Tyler space to explain. I try not to scare the girl off.”
“Stella,” Eleanor said gently. “Practice using her name. She’s not ‘the girl.’ She’s Stella Walsh.”
“Stella Walsh,” Margo repeated. “My great-granddaughter.”
“Who probably needs a great-grandmother,” Letty added, “even if she doesn’t know it yet.”
They stayed until nearly nine, planning without really planning. How to be available without pushing. How to let Stella know she was welcome without overwhelming her. How to give Tyler room to explain while making sure he actually did.
“And Sam?” Eleanor asked as they prepared to leave.
“I’ll try to reach her,” Margo said. “But you know Sam. She’ll come when she’s ready, not before.”
“Maybe Stella will change that,” Vivian suggested.
“Maybe,” Margo agreed, but they all heard the doubt.
