They sat in the lull again. The light was almost gone.
“How bad is it?” Luke asked. “At the Shack.”
Tyler looked at the water. “It’s fine.”
“Tyler.”
“The numbers are up. The breakfast is working. The dinner service is—” He stopped. “Anna’s exhausted. The girls are working shifts after school. Joey’s missing study group. I fell asleep in the school parking lot yesterday.”
“The parking lot.”
“Twenty minutes. Face against the window. Probably drooled.”
“Attractive.”
“Don’t tell Meg.”
Luke was quiet for a moment. The ocean lifted them and set them down.
“She’s going to figure it out,” Luke said.
“I know. But not from you. Not yet. Anna needs to work through this. If Meg comes in and takes over?—”
“She’ll optimize everything and fix nothing. Yeah.” Luke lay back on his board, looking at the sky. “I won’t say anything. But Tyler—she’s Meg. She’s going to see it.”
“I know. Just—give us another week.”
“Another week.”
“Then it’s fair game.”
“Deal.” Luke sat back up. “One more wave?”
“One more.”
They caught the last ride together—a long, slow roller that carried them almost to the sand. Tyler stepped off the board in knee-deep water and stood there for a second, the ocean pulling at his ankles, the sky dark enough now that Stella had lowered her camera.
She met them at the waterline.
“Got some good ones,” she said, scrolling through her screen. “Luke, you look like an actual surfer. Dad, you look like someone who used to be an actual surfer.”
“Thank you, Stella.”
“The wipeout was especially photogenic.”
“Thanks for taking that for posterity, Stella.”
Luke peeled his wetsuit to the waist and tucked his board under his arm. Tyler did the same. They walked up the beach the way they’d walked up a hundred beaches—boards under arms, sand on their feet, not talking.
At the trucks, Tyler rinsed his board with the jug of water he kept in the bed. His arms ached. His legs were shaky. His hair was full of salt and his wetsuit smelled like it needed a wash three weeks ago.
He felt more human than he had in a month.
“Thanks,” he said.
“For what? The waves were free.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
