“Tyler,” she started.
“I know.” He shouldered his camera bag, squaring his shoulders like he was preparing for battle. “I know, okay? Let’s just... let’s get this over with.”
The walk to the door felt both endless and too quick. Tyler reached for the handle, paused, then pulled it open. The familiar bell chimed, and Meg watched every head in the place turn toward them.
“Tyler!” Joey’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “You’re back! And you brought?—”
The words died as Joey took in the teenager beside Tyler. Meg could practically see his brain short-circuiting. This wasn’t a sophisticated girlfriend. This was a kid. A kid who looked exactly like?—
“Everyone,” Tyler said, his voice carrying over the sudden hush. “This is Stella.”
Bernie half-stood from his table, squinting. “Christ on a cracker, she’s got the Walsh eyes.”
“Bernie,” Margo said sharply, appearing from behind the counter. Her gaze was fixed on Stella with an intensity that made Meg’s stomach clench.
“What?” Bernie settled back down. “She does. Spitting image of Tyler at that age. Hell, could be his—” He stopped mid-sentence, his weathered face going slack. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Joey echoed faintly.
The silence stretched, horrible and complete. Every customer, every regular, every person who’d watchedTyler grow up and never knew he had a daughter, stared.
Stella lifted her chin, defiant. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
“Stella,” Tyler warned.
“What? They’re all staring at me like I’m a zoo animal.” She crossed her arms. “This was a stupid idea.”
Margo moved then, crossing the café with the same steady grace she’d had for all of Meg’s life. She stopped in front of Stella, studying her with those sharp eyes that missed nothing.
“You’re Tyler’s daughter.” Not a question.
Stella shrugged. “Apparently.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Meg saw Margo do the math, saw the moment of understanding followed by something that might have been hurt. Sixteen years of secrets. Sixteen years of not trusting them enough to share.
Then Margo did something that made everyone in the Beach Shack hold their breath. She stepped forward and pulled Stella into a hug. Not a polite, careful hug, but a real one—the kind that saidyou belong herewithout words.
Stella went rigid for a moment, arms at her sides, clearly not expecting this. Then, slowly, awkwardly, she brought her hands up to pat Margo’s back.
“Okay,” Stella said, voice muffled against Margo’s shoulder. “This is happening.”
“You’re family,” Margo said simply, pulling back butkeeping her hands on Stella’s shoulders. “That’s all that matters.”
Stella studied her feet for a moment.
“Well then,” Margo said finally. “You must be hungry. Long flight from Australia.”
Stella blinked, clearly not expecting that response. “I... yeah. Kind of.”
“Grilled cheese?”
“I—” Stella glanced at Tyler, who looked as surprised as she did. “Sure?”
“Joey,” Margo called without turning around. “Three grilled cheese sandwiches. Extra crispy.”
