“I am satisfied.”
“The new items are a hit.”
“So I noticed.”
“Mrs. Patterson came in. Ate the whole sandwich this time. Said it ‘reminded her of why she started coming here in the first place.’”
Margo smiled. Mrs. Patterson, who had been eating at the Shack for thirty-seven years. Who had noticed when things changed, even when no one else did.
“That’s high praise,” she said.
“The highest.” Bernie sipped his coffee. “You did good, Margo. Raising them. Teaching them. Letting them figure it out.”
“They did the figuring. I just got out of the way.”
“Getting out of the way is harder than it looks.”
“Don’t I know it.”
They sat in comfortable silence, watching the lunch rush ebb and flow. Joey delivered plates with theatrical flourishes. Anna laughed at something a customer said. Meg emerged from the kitchen, surveyed the room, and actually smiled.
“One more thing,” Bernie said.
“What’s that?”
“The painting. The one you’ve been working on.” He fixed her with a knowing look. “When are you going to show them?”
Margo shouldn’t have been surprised. Bernie had been watching the Turner/Walsh family for decades. Of course he’d noticed the paint on her hands, the distracted look she got when she was working through a composition in her head.
“Soon,” she said.
“How soon?”
“When it’s finished.”
“Is it finished?”
Margo thought about the canvas in her studio. The layers of color, the figures emerging from light and shadow. Sam at the edge, looking in.
“Almost,” she said. “One more day.”
“Good.” Bernie nodded, satisfied. “They need to see it. All of them. Together.”
“I know.”
“And Margo?”
“Yes?”
“Whatever you painted—whatever you decided to include or not include—it’s the right choice.” He smiled, the weathered face creasing in familiar lines. “It’s always the right choice when it comes from the heart.”
Margo blinked against unexpected tears.
“Thank you, Bernie.”
“Don’t thank me. Just invite me to the unveiling.” He stood, gathering his tablet and his coffee. “I’ll bring the betting pool results. We finally closed out the ‘Will Fiona sign the papers’ pool. Everyone won.”
“Everyone won?”
