Page 30 of Against The Tide

“It’s okay,” Rhett laughs. “I can have that effect, you know—make you weak in the knees.”

I don’t doubt that one bit. He’s charismatic and handsome, and he has an aura about him that’s warm and magnetic.

“Come on, Breeze, stop!” He turns us so that I can steady myself and the shepherd is pouncing on the backs of his legs instead. “She’s the wild one out of the bunch, and Cap, he’s old and quiet. He prefers staying indoors now, or he’ll sit out on the porch.”

Just as he said, an older shepherd is lying at the top of the porch steps when we head into the house. The back doors are fully open, and the girls are both sitting on the porch swing with a tall basket between them that they’re peering into eagerly.

Callie and Jo are already in the kitchen, the large island littered with ingredients and some of the groceries we bought in town.

“You ever make an apple pie from scratch?” Jo asks at the same time as Rhett pours us all drinks.

“No, I’m not much of a baker.”

“Neither is this princess over here.”

“I’m getting better at it.” Callie takes a sip of her drink.

“It’s only taken her almost six years of me teaching her the same foolproof recipe at least once a week.”

Jo goes about weighing out all the ingredients. Once she’s ready to start making the pastry and the filling, Callie gets the girls involved in doing all the messy work while we sit out on the porch, drinking our sweet tea.

I’m too caught up in listening to Iris’s giggles to be much of a conversationist, and when Rowan arrives with Caleb in tow, Callie helps him set up the grill before returning with fresh drinks.

“So…Rowan needs to go to DC to meet with a contractor. I’m thinking of going with him. Nora keeps saying she doesn’t see the kids enough and…and maybe she’s right. Iris talks about Robert so much…”

“We lived in the same city. It’s not the same when you’re in a different state.” I push down the pang that hits me square in the gut and smile at her.

“I guess, and we’re always so busy. You know what she’s like with Rafe—mother hen on crack…”

“Isn’t that called being invested or something?”

A laugh bursts from her. “Or overbearing.”

“I feel that way. Overbearing. I’m sitting here and I’m listening out for every sound Iris is making and trying not to crowd her.”

“She’s doing okay. Scout loves her. I think when I tell her that we’re going to DC for a couple weeks, she’s gonna freak out. She thinks she’s got herself a twin that she can’t wait to show off to all her classmates when school starts.”

Flustering at the thought that school will start soon and that I have no idea what’s going to happen, I take a long gulp of my tea.

“You haven’t thought about it.”

“No.” I search the horizon of green fields beyond the lake that stretches across the backyard. “This is a lot for her to take in. I’m trying to work out what to say to make it better, but I don’t want to lie to her or make her think that things are going back to what they were. I’m dreading how Carl’s going to react to the guardianship claim and what this investigation is going to dredge up.”

“Dirt. A whole lot of dirt, and you’re going to have to be prepared for the fallout of it. You’re going to have to be prepared to fight because no one else can do it for you. It’s your life, your decision…your daughter. The hard truth is that Carl hurt you.”

“He’s never hit me like that before.”

“What does that even mean, Avery? He never hit you like that?”

“He’s always been a bit rough, and maybe sometimes he pushed and pulled me around some or grabbed me too hard, but it was never like that. Just rough and demanding.” After a beat of silence, I add, “He said he was sorry and…” I cut myself off because I sound stupid even to myself.

The look she gives me tells me that it doesn’t make a difference. Callie is right—it doesn’t, and the admission makes me feel sick. If I were a drinker, I’d probably need a stiff one right about now. Instead, I gulp down a few mouthfuls of the apple tea in my hand.

Rhett’s words from the other night play around in my head, like they’ve done the last couple of weeks.

“Do you think I need to talk to someone?” I ask her.

“What? Like a shrink?”