Page 5 of The Beach Shack Summer (Laguna Beach #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

M argo had called exactly three emergency Circle meetings in thirty years.

The first: when Richard’s cancer returned. The second: when Sam left for good. The third: now, standing in her kitchen at six-thirty on Tuesday evening, staring at her phone like it might explain what had just happened.

“This better be good,” Eleanor answered on the second ring. “I’m missing Jeopardy.”

“Emergency meeting. My house. Thirty minutes.”

A pause. Eleanor’s voice sharpened, all traces of annoyance gone. “Margo?”

“Tyler has a daughter.”

Silence. Then: “I’ll call the others.”

Margo hung up and gripped the edge of her kitchen counter. Through the window, she could see the ocean, calm and indifferent to the earthquake that had just hit her life.

A daughter. Tyler had a daughter. Sixteen years old.

She moved through the familiar ritual by muscle memory. Coffee—decaf, because they’d need to sleep tonight. The good cups, not the everyday ones. Wine, because the Circle women would need it. Crackers and cheese, because her hands needed something to do.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Meg.

I know you must have questions. Tyler needs to be the one to explain. I don’t even know the story yet.

Margo stared at the message, then typed back.

Just tell me why she’s here.

Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again.

He needs to tell us both. Soon, I hope.

The first knock came at seven sharp. Vivian, because of course it was. She took one look at Margo’s face and pulled her into a hug.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it,” Vivian murmured.

Eleanor arrived next, followed by Nadine and Letty together. They filed into Margo’s living room with the efficiency of women who’d weathered crises together before.

“Wine?” Eleanor asked, already reaching for the bottle .

“Please,” Margo said, sinking into her chair. “Pour generously.”

They settled in, waiting. Margo took a breath.

“Tyler came home from Australia today. With a sixteen-year-old daughter none of us knew existed.”

“A daughter?” Letty said faintly. “But how—when?—”

“No.” Margo’s voice was steady, bewildered. “His daughter. Stella.”

“Stella,” Vivian repeated. “Pretty name.”

“She looks exactly like him.” Margo reached for her wine. “Same eyes, same chin. There’s no question.”

“Sixteen,” Eleanor calculated. “So when Tyler was?—”

“Twenty-three. That workshop in Australia.” Margo shook her head. “All those trips. Twice a year, sometimes more. I thought it was just for work.”

“Maybe it was,” Nadine suggested gently. “Maybe he was visiting her?”

“For sixteen years?” Margo’s voice cracked slightly. “Without telling us?”

Silence fell. They all knew what she wasn’t saying—that Sam wasn’t here. That her daughter had been gone for years, chasing her art, and might miss this entirely.

“What do you know about the mother?” Vivian asked.

“Nothing. I texted Meg but she says Tyler needs to explain.” Margo’s frustration showed. “I don’t even know why the girl is here.”

“Summer vacation?” Letty suggested.

“Looking at colleges?” Nadine added .

“Or trouble at home,” Eleanor said darkly. “Teenagers don’t usually get shipped across the Pacific for fun.”

“We don’t know that she was shipped,” Vivian added.

“She didn’t look happy to be here,” Margo said quietly. “At the Shack today. She looked... defensive. Angry.”

“Well, wouldn’t you be?” Eleanor asked. “Sixteen, in a strange country, meeting family you didn’t know existed?”

“Did she know about you?” Letty asked gently.

“I don’t think so. The way she looked at all of us...” Margo trailed off. “Like we were some museum exhibit she hadn’t signed up to see.”

“Lord,” Nadine whispered. “That poor girl.”

“That poor girl?” Eleanor’s voice sharpened. “What about Margo? What about Sam? She has a granddaughter she’s never met!”

“Sam,” Margo whispered, and the name carried years of complicated history. “She’s going to miss everything. Again.”

The Circle women exchanged glances. Sam’s absence was an old wound, carefully navigated.

“Have you called her?” Vivian asked.

“I don’t even know where she is this month. Prague? Barcelona?” Margo’s laugh was hollow. “Chasing her muse while her son hides entire human beings from us. ”

“Maybe that’s why,” Letty said softly. “Maybe Tyler didn’t tell because Sam wasn’t here to tell.”

“Don’t make excuses for him,” Eleanor said firmly.

“I’m not. I’m just saying... this family hasn’t exactly been traditional.” Letty gestured vaguely. “Sam leaving, Rick with his own struggles. Maybe Tyler thought?—”

“Tyler thought wrong,” Eleanor interrupted. “Whatever his reasons.”

“Sixteen years,” Nadine mused. “First steps, first words, first day of school...”

“Don’t,” Margo said sharply. Then, softer: “Please. I can’t think about what we missed. Not yet.”

“What happens now?” Vivian asked practically.

“I don’t know. She’s here for... I don’t even know how long. Meg won’t tell me anything.” Margo felt the frustration building. “My own grandson has a daughter I knew nothing about, and everyone’s protecting his secrets.”

“Well, you had secrets of your own, Margo.”

Margo blinked a few times. She was right. “I guess people have their reasons.”

“Give it time,” Vivian counseled. “He just got here. The girl must be overwhelmed.”

“Stella,” Margo said. “Her name is Stella.”

“Stella,” Vivian repeated. “Your great-granddaughter.”

The words hit like a physical blow. Great-granddaughter. She was a great-grandmother for the second time and had only learned it today.

“What do we do?” Letty asked .

“We wait,” Eleanor said firmly. “We let Margo get information. We don’t push.”

“Since when do you not push?” Nadine asked.

“Since there’s a scared teenager involved,” Eleanor replied.

“Bernie said she looked ready to bolt at the Shack,” Margo muttered.

“Bernie’s usually right about people,” Vivian pointed out.

They sat with that truth for a moment. Outside, evening birds called to each other, ordinary life continuing while Margo’s world tilted on its axis.

“Maybe,” Letty said carefully, “this is a gift.”

“A gift?” Margo’s voice was flat.

“A chance. However she got here, whatever the reasons... she’s here. You have time with her that you didn’t have.”

“Time for what? She doesn’t know us. Doesn’t want to know us, from what I saw.” Margo reached for the wine bottle. “And Sam might miss the whole thing. Her own granddaughter.”

“Then we make sure she doesn’t,” Eleanor said with sudden determination. “We track Sam down. We get her here.”

“Sam goes where she wants,” Margo said tiredly. “Always has.”

“This is different. This is family.”

“Tyler’s been family for sixteen years and didn’t tell us about Stella,” Margo pointed out.

Silence again. The weight of secrets in the Walsh family was nothing new, but this one felt heavier than most.

“You know what I keep thinking?” Margo said finally. “That she has Tyler’s eyes but I don’t know if she has his laugh. That she stood in my café today and I don’t know if she likes grilled cheese or if she’s allergic to tomatoes or what her favorite color is.”

“So find out,” Vivian said gently.

“How? Everyone’s circling the wagons. Tyler needs space. Meg can’t talk. The girl looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.” Margo’s composure finally cracked. “I’m her great-grandmother and I don’t even know if she likes the ocean.”

Eleanor moved to sit beside her, arm around her shoulders. “Oh, honey.”

“Sam’s going to miss it all,” Margo whispered. “Just like she missed everything else. And maybe that’s why Tyler didn’t tell us. Because what’s the point of telling a family that’s barely a family?”

“Stop that,” Vivian said firmly. “You’re a family. Complicated, yes. Scattered, maybe. But family.”

“A family that keeps secrets.”

“Every family keeps secrets,” Nadine said. “The question is what you do when they come to light.”

Margo wiped her eyes, straightening. “I wait. I give Tyler space to explain. I try not to scare the girl off.”

“Stella,” Eleanor said gently. “Practice using her name. She’s not ‘the girl.’ She’s Stella Walsh.”

“Stella Walsh,” Margo repeated. “My great-granddaughter. ”

“Who probably needs a great-grandmother,” Letty added, “even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

They stayed until nearly nine, planning without really planning. How to be available without pushing. How to let Stella know she was welcome without overwhelming her. How to give Tyler room to explain while making sure he actually did.

“And Sam?” Eleanor asked as they prepared to leave.

“I’ll try to reach her,” Margo said. “But you know Sam. She’ll come when she’s ready, not before.”

“Maybe Stella will change that,” Vivian suggested.

“Maybe,” Margo agreed, but they all heard the doubt.

After they left, Margo stood in her quiet kitchen, loading cups into the dishwasher. Such a normal task while her world had shifted completely.

She picked up her phone, scrolled to Sam’s last message from three weeks ago: In Lisbon. New series going well. Hope you’re good.

How did you tell your wandering daughter that she was a grandmother again? That her son had hidden a child for years? That she might miss knowing this girl entirely if she didn’t come home?

Instead, Margo decided it wasn’t her story to tell and put her phone down. It was all she could manage.

She pulled out the photo albums then, found Tyler’s teenage years. There he was at sixteen, Stella’s age. All angles and attitude, camera already his constant companion. He’d been a good kid. Quiet, watchful, kind. How had that boy grown into a man who could keep such a secret?

And Sam—she flipped to earlier pages. Sam at thirty, Tyler a toddler on her hip, both of them laughing at something off-camera. Before the restlessness took her. Before art became more important than anything else.

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” Margo told the photo. “And you don’t even know it.”

Tomorrow, she’d see them again. Tomorrow, maybe Tyler would explain. Tomorrow, she’d try to find a way to connect with a teenage girl who shared their eyes, their stubbornness, their blood.

But tonight, Margo sat with her photos and her questions, wondering how a family could be so connected and so scattered at the same time. Wondering if Stella liked grilled cheese. Wondering if Sam would come home in time to find out.