Chapter 14
Lucas stirs when I lean over, unclipping his seatbelt. I gently hush him. “Shh.”
“I got him.”
Looking over my shoulder, I find Riley approaching his Jeep I’ve been driving all day. I don’t know if it’s the mental exhaustion of everything that happened with Silas earlier, or the adrenaline that followed when I picked up Lucas, surprising him with dinner at the diner and a trip to the arcade, but I don’t have the energy to say no to Riley like I did this morning.
I let him lift Lucas. “You can just put him in bed,” I tell Riley. It’s well after nine and after a jam-packed day, I don’t even want to wake him to change into pajamas or brush his teeth.
Beyond the sound of Riley’s footsteps on the stairs, the house is quiet—eerily quiet. There’s no sliding of paws on the hardwood floors, or the scraping of Tides’s water bowl across the tile in the kitchen.
“He’s a dog, Harper. A dog,” I whisper harshly to myself. “Who am I even talking to?”
Where is the Harper who didn’t even like animals? The one who went out and bought an insanely expensive robotic vacuum to keep up with the soft tufts of shed hair, the dirt Tides tracked in? The one who nagged Nate to wipe Tides’s paws every time he came into the house?
“You alright?”
Who is this Harper, I wonder, crying over a dog I never wanted but now cannot imagine living a day without?
I wipe my face angrily, not interested in taking one step forward with Riley only to jog all the way back to where we started. And I’m tired, tired of crying, tired of all the yearning for what I’ve lost.
“I’m fine.”
Out of the corner of my eye I watch Riley pull his lip between his teeth before he sighs and moves to the fridge. He opens two beers and hands me one.
“Come out back.” Riley’s loose knot capturing his hair drops when he brings the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back.
With shuffling feet, I follow Riley out to the porch where he sits on the swing.
In the dark of the night, the weather has cooled off. But between us, the air is just as thick as it was this morning.
And while I don’t have it in me to thin it out, Riley does.
“It was me. During Nate’s deployment, I sent the flowers.”
I think about the way my heart skipped a beat one day a week each day for all of Nate’s deployment and how hard that skip hiccuped in my chest when I found the bouquets on the very table before me two months after he died. For a second I found it ironic that Nate had some contingency plan all along. After all, I was always the planner in the marriage.
I could never plan for something like this. I couldn’t even dream of it.
But Riley could.
“And yeah, obviously I’ve been bringing them to the house now.”
The condensation from the beer makes the glass slide in my hand, but I grip it tighter. “Did he ask you to do that?” My heart aches and my voice cracks. “In the car? ”
There’s so much I wonder about the accident. Was Nate awake? Did he try to get out with Riley? I’m limited to the police report and autopsy, which only tells me so much. But those details? The nearly amputated leg, the death by drowning. The idea of Nate in such pain, in agony, is too much for me to get past to think about anything else.
Like if he said something to Riley.
If he called out for me.
My heart tightens and I brush another tear from my face.
Riley turns his head to the side and his shadow skates across the floor of the porch. I feel it, his pending shut down, just the way he did in the car after Career Day.
“Riley?”
“He did when he was deployed,” Riley whispers quietly. “He asked me then to look out for you.”
I drop my head. “What about now? Why are you doing it now?”
“Because!” His frustration comes clearly when he whips his head back to me. “Because…Nate can’t do that for you anymore.”
My head drops, and with it, so do the pieces of my already shattered heart. I have to fight the urge to run into the kitchen and grab the vase, returning it.
“You don’t have to now.”
Riley snaps his head to me. “Of course I do.”
“You don’t even like me.”
He turns his head away and says nothing. Because what is there to say?
“Nate loved you,” Riley says. “And…”
“And what, Riley?”
“And I loved him. I know he’d want me to do it. So just put up and shut up. You don’t even have to say thank you. Just let me do it.”
I rub my forehead.
Riley clears his throat. “And there’s something else. "
“What?”
He takes a long sip of his beer. “You’re going to hire me as your attorney.”
“I’m going to what ?”
Riley rises from the swing. “Do you want to get Tides back?”
“Of course.”
“Good. We’re going to sue the town and get him back.”
“We’re what ?”
He takes another sip. “I’m going to need a few days to file the paperwork. I’ve never actually filed any complaint before and—”
“Riley, Riley.” I reach out, grabbing his arm. That catches his attention because we both look down at my grip before I release it quickly. “Can you slow down?”
Over the next few minutes, Riley more or less that we can have Tides back—if we’re willing to fight. How we go about that exactly, he might be saying in German.
I press my lips together, trying to gather my thoughts on the bits and pieces I do understand. “It’s not that…I…custody? Of a dog?”
“I mean, he’s property,” Riley says. “Legally speaking. We’ll ask for a writ of—”
“Riley, I got my GED, okay. I get you went to law school, I get”—I pause, correcting myself—“You’re a lawyer , an attorney, whatever. But can you use kid gloves here for a second?”
Riley takes a deep breath. “We’re going to ask the judge to return Tides back since he was property wrongfully taken away. It’s called replevin …never mind,” he decides when I make a face. “The point is, he’s property of Nate’s estate just as much as this house is. That means, he belongs to you.”
“If he belongs to me, why did they take him in the first place? Especially after Nate’s been gone for almost three months?”
“They have some wiggle room in the contract, but it can’t be much.”
Clearing my throat, I nod. “I don’t know…I mean is a lawsuit ta king things too far? I hate that they took Tides, but what if it ends up being a lot of work for you all for nothing?”
I wonder if I have doubt written on my face that Riley can see, because that’s what I’m looking at on his own face—a gentle flex of his jaw and anxious fluttering of his lashes I’m only now realizing are long enough to cast shadows onto the top of his cheeks, on the smooth skin that isn’t covered by the scruff of his beard. My stomach twists and I wonder if maybe what I asked isn’t what Riley heard.
Maybe what he heard was more the lines of are you really sure you can pull this off?
I change my tune. “You want to do this?”
“I need to,” Riley answers instantly. “I need to do it, Harper. And I can.”
The confidence in Riley’s immediate reply isn’t something I can ignore, let alone question. But he’s still staring at me as if he isn’t just waiting for my permission, but for my belief in him.
“Fine. But don’t go crazy on the retainer fees. I’ve got a kid to put through college.”
That hesitant look disappears from Riley’s face, much to my delight, and the knot loosens. And for the first time since Nate died, I relax.
“Retainer fees are you need to let me use your dining table as a desk, and not complain that it's messy. I need space to work.” Riley goes to tip his bottle to mine, but I pull it back.
“ And , you’re going to teach me to surf.”
Riley folds his lips together.
I take a deep breath. “Riley, Lucas is afraid of water now.”
His face sinks.
“I want Lucas and me to have something together, something Nate loved. I want that to be the thing that helps him.”
The breath Riley releases is shaky.
“I want to be the one who teaches him, so I want you to teach me. Please, Riley.”
Riley takes a deep breath. “We’ll talk about it. ”
I’m as surprised by this as I am by the idea of suing a police department over a dog. “Let the record show, you didn’t say no .”
Lifting his head, Riley cocks it to the side. “Do you want me to?”
“N-no,” I stammer before bringing my bottle forward to clink it with his. Only this time, it's Riley who pulls back before the touch.
“Eye contact, Harper. Life has been pretty shitty. Let’s not make it worse. We don’t need to condemn each other to seven years of bad sex.”
Riley’s mouth snaps shut immediately, and it might be the first time I’ve seen him be uncomfortable with his own forwardness. Maybe he’s worried cracking jokes about sex to a new member of the widow’s club is inappropriate. Maybe it is. But I let out a half snort, half laugh anyway even though I’m bothered.
But what bothers me isn’t the joke.
What bothers me is the warmth that creeps up my neck when we both smile at each other after.
On a normal day, Tides would be the one to wake me, ramming his nose into my leg, demanding to be let out. But today, it’s after seven when I open my eyes, finding the empty dog bed in the corner of my room. It’s always empty. But I know his sleep spot of choice—at the foot of Lucas's bed—is also empty.
I reach for my phone to text Riley as I climb out of bed and head to the bathroom.
I’ll tell Lucas tonight. I don’t want him upset at school.
My phone dings while I’m rinsing my mouth free of toothpaste and I stare confused when I see Riley’s name followed by a notification of a voice message.
Are you sure you don’t want to tell him now?
Riley’s voice is heavy with sleep, and I don’t think he’s ever sent me a voice message, so I’m unsure why he’s starting now. He doesn’t wear contacts, so I it must be he’s still in bed, his eyes clouded with sleep. I push record and send one back.
I don’t want to ruin his day.
I quickly press record again.
Why are you voice messaging me?
“Who's messaging you?” Lucas's voice is just as groggy as Riley’s.
I lower my phone. “Did you sleep well?”
Lucas rubs a hand across his still tired face. His hair is a mess of cowlicks and bedhead, giving me the answer to my own question. He mumbles something incoherent before yawning. “Where’s Tides?”
“Silas took him.” It’s not a lie until I add, “To the vet. He picked him up early. We overslept. How about a Pop Tart and a banana?”
Stretching, Lucas pads from the doorway. “Only if it’s the frosted kind. You bought unfrosted last time.”
I wait until I hear Lucas's footsteps drift down the hall before I grab my phone again, playing Riley’s response.
Just easier. Too tired to type this early .
“As you like,” I mumble to myself before I slick my hair into a bun and scramble to get dressed before running down the stairs.
“I mean, even bad guys make mistakes sometimes.”
I hold onto the banister and my breath.
“Big mistake,” Lucas relents. “Tony Stark gave up the home field advantage when he took the fight to Thanos.”
My entire body relaxes with relief and I loosen my hold but stay in my place.
Riley laughs. “Rookie mistake, huh?”
“Yeah,” Lucas agrees, even though I don’t think he knows what that means. “Rookie mistake.”
I take a few quick steps down the stairs, finding the two of them eating in the living room. The TV plays with no sound.
“What happened to eating at the table and no TV until the end of the day?”
“Riley said today is a yes day.”
I raise an eyebrow and he shrugs. “Can’t say no to a yes day, Mom . Contrary to belief, this isn’t a dictatorship.”
Lucas nods. “The Avengers vote on everything.”
“We didn’t vote on anything,” I remind both of them.
Riley raises a steaming mug to his lips with a smirk and I head straight for the coffeemaker.
“Lucas, you’ve got three minutes to finish that!”
He groans in objection.
“You can pause it and watch it later,” I tell him. “For the eight hundredth time.”
Opening a cabinet, I grab a mug and jump when I turn, finding Riley behind me. He balances a plate on top of his coffee before placing it on the counter. “Who buys unfrosted Pop-Tarts?”
“What thirty something year old eats Pop-Tarts for breakfast?”
Riley looks at the plate and then leans forward. I can smell the toothpaste even through his breakfast and coffee. “All the single ones with no girlfriend to make them an egg sandwich,” he whispers, moving to the sink.
I hear Lucas scramble back upstairs.
“He didn’t say anything about Tides, did he?”
“You couldn’t come up with anything better than Silas took him to the vet?”
I furrow both brows. “Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Riley begins, waving his hand between us. “Maybe he had a doggy play date.”
“A doggy play date? What, he’s spending the morning at a friend’s house?”
Riley folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah,” he says as if that’s a normal occurrence.
“A half lie felt better than a total lie. I don’t like hiding the truth from my kid, Riley.”
“You lie about Santa,” he reminds me. “And by the way, don’t know if you have much more time with that one.”
I scoff. “You’re coming after me about Santa? Who raised you? Scrooge or the Grinch?”
Riley tilts his head to the side as if he’s thinking about an appropriate answer, but shakes his head. “What about the tooth fairy?”
“Well, I take it back, sorry. I lie to preserve childhood innocence. Sue me.”
When the words leave my lips, Riley and I both fight a smile. And even though the crazy idea of suing the police department to secure custody of a dog is, well, crazy, there’s something about the outlandish idea—this shared secret between us—that keeps me smiling even after he walks out of the kitchen.