“Everyone bet yes. Eventually.” He shrugged. “We’re optimists. Comes with the territory.”
He wandered back to his booth, leaving Margo alone with her thoughts.
One more day. One more layer of paint. And then she’d show them what she’d made.
A family portrait. Complete. Honest. Whole.
Or as whole as any family ever got.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The email arrived while Anna was grading student portfolios at the Shack.
She’d commandeered the corner booth—Bernie’s booth, technically, but he was at a dentist appointment and had graciously granted her “temporary territorial rights”—and spread her students’ work across the table. Charcoal sketches, watercolor experiments, one ambitious attempt at perspective that had gone gloriously wrong.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it, expecting another text from Bea about dinner plans.
Instead—an email from her property manager.
Hi Anna — Quick update on your tenants. They’ve asked about extending their lease another six months, through February. Same terms, same rent. They love the place and want to stay. Let me know if you’re interested and I’ll draw up the paperwork. — Frank
Anna stared at the screen.
Six more months. Same rent. Through February.
She’d been planning to move back into her house after school started. That had been the deal—renters through the end of summer while she and Bea stayed at Meg’s place temporarily since they’d come back from Florence early, then back to normal life. Back to her own space, her own studio, her own routines.
But now?—
She looked around the Shack. Joey was restocking napkins with his usual intensity. Stella sat at a table near the window, editing photos on her laptop. Through the kitchen doorway, she could see Tyler plating an order, moving with the easy rhythm he’d developed over the summer.
This place had become hers in a way she hadn’t expected.
Not hers alone—theirs. The whole family’s. But Anna had found a role here that fit. She wasn’t the disruptive one anymore, the one who rearranged furniture and implemented “systems” that nobody wanted. She was... useful. Present. Reliable.
She liked being reliable. That was new.
Her phone buzzed again. This time it was Bea.
Can we get Thai for dinner? Meg’s working late and I don’t want to cook
Anna typed back.
Sure. Meet me at the Shack in an hour?
Already here. Back booth. Brought homework.
Anna looked up. Sure enough, Bea was settled in the booth behind her, textbooks spread across the table, earbuds in, completely absorbed in whatever she was studying.
When had her daughter arrived? How had Anna missed her walking right past?
She was losing her edge. Or maybe just relaxing into things.
The email glowed on her phone screen. Six more months. Same rent.
She did the math in her head.
If she kept the rental income through then, she could afford to drop to half-time teaching this semester. The department had been asking—budget cuts, declining enrollment, the usual—and she’d been resisting because she needed the full salary. But with rent coming in...
