“There is no personal space! We’re cousins! We’re going to do senior year together!” Bea managed to capture Stella in an enthusiastic embrace before Stella could escape. “I have so many plans!”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stella said, but she was smiling as she gently extracted herself from Bea’s grip.
Anna reached over and pulled her daughter back into her chair. “Breathe, Bea. Let her finish.”
“She already finished. She’s staying. End of announcement.” Bea bounced in her seat. “Can we talk about course schedules? Because I have thoughts about AP Photography versus?—”
“Bea.” Meg’s voice was gentle but careful. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She turned to Stella. “What does your mum say about this?”
The excitement at the table dimmed slightly. Margo watched Stella’s shoulders tighten.
“I haven’t told her yet,” Stella admitted. “I wanted to tell you all first. But I’m not—” She hesitated. “I’m not sure she’ll agree.”
“She has to agree, though,” Bea said, looking around the table. “Right? If Stella wants to stay?—”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Tyler said quietly. “Fiona has legal custody. School enrollment, visas—it all requires her consent.”
“So, what do we do?”
Tyler shifted in his seat. Margo recognized the movement—the slight lean back, the way his eyes went to the schedules instead of the people. Retreat into logistics.
“Let’s focus on what we can control for now,” he said. “The practical stuff. If Stella can stay, what does coverage look like?”
Margo noted the deflection but didn’t push. Tyler had always been better with plans than with confrontation. That was a conversation for another day.
“I already told Dad this morning,” Stella said, seeming grateful for the shift. “I know it complicates things. Visas and school enrollment and Mum. But I want to be here.”
“Well,” Anna said, picking up Tyler’s redirect, “that changes the math considerably. If Stella stays.”
“Does it?” Meg asked. “I mean, practically speaking. Stella would be in school during the day. Same as Bea.”
“After school,” Tyler said slowly. “Weekends. She could pick up some of Joey’s hours.”
Stella nodded. “If you want me to. I know the routines now. The regulars, the systems.” She glanced at Margo. “I’d like to help. Really help, not just fill in when someone’s sick.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Stella glanced at it—Margo caught a glimpse of the lock screen, a message preview—and silenced it without responding.
Meg noticed too. “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just Mum checking in.” Stella shoved the phone deeper into her pocket. “So—after school shifts. What would that look like?”
Margo let the moment pass, but she filed it away. Fiona wasn’t going to disappear just because they’d moved on to logistics. That conversation was coming, whether they were ready for it or not.
“Morning prep is the biggest challenge,” Tyler said,running his finger down the weekly schedule. “We open at ten, but prep starts at seven. If Anna’s teaching full-time?—“
“I can’t adjust my schedule.” Anna picked up her pencil again, turning it between her fingers. “The department already made accommodations to get me back in the classroom. They were clear about which sections I’d be teaching.”
“What hours exactly?” Tyler asked.
“Seven-thirty to three-thirty, Monday through Friday. No flexibility.”
Tyler dropped back against the booth. “That’s our entire morning prep and opening routine. And when we’re open.”
Meg pulled one of Margo’s schedules toward her. “Plus Joey’s school schedule. Even if it’s local, he’ll have reduced hours.”
Margo gathered the scattered papers into a stack, tapping them against the table to align the edges. “So, we’re looking at coverage from seven AM prep through afternoon close. With significantly fewer people available.”
The delivery truck rumbled up outside, its backup beeper cutting through their conversation.
