Page 3 of Against The Tide

When I don’t reply, he smiles faintly. “Sucks, I know. And if you don’t want to go out there, there is enough tonic to last the next few hours.”

“You’re not kidding.” I manage my first laugh in what seems like forever.

Rafe sits on the couch opposite the desk while Nora sits closer on one of the formal armchairs, patting her lap for Iris to sit with her.

“The service was nice,” he tells me, plucking a peacock feather from the vase on the end table and tickling Iris’s face with it.

“It was.” My statement is lost in Iris’s laughter, the best sound I’ve heard today.

“I’d bet everyone’s already said that…”

“And that they’re sorry.”

My gaze rests on one of the few family photos we have with Mom and Dad both holding Iris when she was born. Dad used to talk about being with her again one day. There’s a small comfort in that thought, that they’re together and happy.

Rafe keeps tickling Iris until she announces she needs to pee, and Nora insists on taking her.

“I don’t really understand these things,” Rafe says after a silent beat. “I mean, wedding and baby parties…I get those, but wakes? I’m not sure who wants anyone around when they’re trying to cope with their loss.”

“Half of those people out there are strangers to me. I couldn’t tell you how they knew Dad or if they even truly liked him, but they’re here.”

“Rob was a good man—you wouldn’t want to mess with him, but he was one of the good ones.” He stops as Carl’s voice echoes down the hall. “Where’s your mom?”

“I should go mingle.” Without hesitation, I stand, brushing the skirt of my dress down and heading out of the study.

“Avery,” Rafe calls, low enough that it won’t leave the room. “If you ever need anything…”

“I’m okay.” I can barely say the words without bursting with grief and fear, but I push through it with the best smile I can muster.

“Robert was good to me from the beginning to—” He pauses, looking stricken.

“To the end.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for coming,” I murmur past the rock in my throat as tears flood my eyes.

Rafe doesn’t understand how much my father admired him, and his admiration was hard-won.

“I wouldn’t have missed it.” He swallows and for a moment, the put-together and graceful face of Congressman Morgan slips. He’s just Rafe. “Anything, Avery, I’m always here. You can call me anytime.”

“I’ll see you before you leave.”

I’m almost out of the door when Carl walks in. His stare flits between Rafe and me, making my heart race with certainty that I’m going to know about the anger glinting in his eyes.

“People are asking for you.”

“Iris had to use the bathroom,” I tell him, trying to keep my tone nonchalant.

“She should be with her mother, not⁠—”

“Yes, I know. I needed a moment and…”

“And Mom, being Mom, forced her to take it.” I know he’s trying to help, but every word he utters makes me want to beg him to leave us.

“You said people were asking for me?” I walk past Carl, trying not to flinch when he grabs my arm and we walk down the hallway. The bruise from last night’s argument is still throbbing, and as he tightens his grasp, I can’t hold in the whimper that escapes me. “You’re hurting me.”

“I told you to stay away from him.” Fingertips dig into my smarting flesh, each aching throb hammering through my pulse. “You want people to think you’re a whore?”