“My surf trophy’s still on the mantel. The one from when I was eight, that tiny thing I was so proud of.” Tyler took a long sip of coffee. “Stella found photos of us covered in flour from when we tried to make Mom a birthday cake. Anna added salt instead of sugar.”
“Sounds like Anna.”
“It’s all there. Like we’re still those kids, frozen in time while Sam ran off to find herself.” His laugh was bitter. “And now Meg’s moving back in, and I’m terrified I’m going to screw this up the same way Sam did.”
Luke turned to look at him. “You’re not Sam.”
“Aren’t I? Gone for months at a time, showing up with presents and promises, missing everything important?—“
“Stop.” Luke’s voice was firm. “I was here, remember? When you first found out about Stella. Youdropped everything, flew to Australia immediately. You’ve restructured your entire life around her.”
“Because I had to.”
“No, because you wanted to. Sam had choices too. She chose differently.”
Tyler stared at the lightening sky. “What if Stella realizes she doesn’t need me? Without Meg there as buffer, what if we just... can’t connect?”
“You mean what if you have to actually parent without a safety net?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds pathetic.”
“It sounds normal.” Luke finished his coffee. “When I started teaching kids to surf, I always wanted another instructor nearby. Someone to catch what I missed, step in if I froze. Know what happened when I finally had to teach solo?”
“What?”
“I figured it out. Made mistakes, sure. Had a kid cry because I explained duck diving wrong. Another one quit because I pushed too hard.” He shrugged. “But most of them learned. And I got better.”
“Stella’s not a surf student I can hand back at the end of the hour.”
“No, she’s your daughter who chose to spend the summer with you. Who’s learning photography, working at the Shack, slowly unpacking that bag she kept by the door.” Luke gave him a meaningful look. “Did you notice? Yesterday? She hung up a sweater in the closet.”
“She did?”
“Meg mentioned it. Small things, but they matter.”
The horizon was orange now, promising a clear day. Tyler thought about Stella’s careful organization of the Polaroids on the fridge, the way she’d started leaving her phone charger plugged in by the couch.
“I keep waiting for her to realize I’m just fumbling through this,” Tyler admitted.
“Every parent fumbles. The good ones keep showing up anyway.” Luke pulled out his phone, checking the time. “Speaking of which, you should probably head back soon. Make actual breakfast before she wakes up.”
“I was thinking frozen waffles.”
“Tyler.”
“I can make eggs. I’m not completely hopeless.”
“Debatable, but we’ll go with it.” Luke started walking back to the trucks. “Hey, can I ask you something? About the move?”
“Yeah?”
“Meg seems... I don’t know. Guilty? About leaving you guys. Even though it’s clearly the right thing.”
Tyler nodded. “She’s always been the fixer. Even as kids, she’d try to hold everything together. Make sure Anna and I were okay when Mom and Dad fought.”
“And now she feels like she’s abandoning you.”
“I told her we’d be fine, but...” Tyler shrugged. “Maybe she needs to see it, not just hear it.”
