Page 7 of Against The Tide

“I wasn’t planning to. I still have a lot of annoying to do here,” I laugh as she sticks her tongue out at me. It used to be her equivalent to flipping me and Rowan off when the kids are around, but it’s common practice now.

Nudging her gently to the side, I wash my hands so I can help her finish the pies. Her tremor is noticeably bad today; it’s why she’s slower than normal.

“What are Ship and Breeze doing out in the orchard?” I ask as I lay the strips of pastry over the pie in a loose lattice.

“Caleb spent most of this week training them to basket the fruit on the ground.”

Her eyes instantly go to the photo of Rowan’s kids Caleb and Scarlett on the fridge. She would’ve made a wonderful mom had she and Duke been able to have kids. As always, the thought hits a little too close to home, but I shake it off as quick as I can.

When I’m finished with the pies and they’re in the oven, we sit for a while. The conversation on the Parkinson’s clinical trials that I bring up is immediately shut down. Jo is at the point where she’s tired and the sleep issues she’s having are taking a mental and emotional toll on her.

“I know you don’t want to be poked and prodded. These trials aren’t like that. One of them is all to do with sleep cycles and deep brain stimulation.”

“Doc, I don’t need a cure. I know it’s getting worse and I know what will happen, and I’m okay with that.”

“I’m not okay with that. I’m not okay with giving up.” There’s no way I can let Duke down—he would be disappointed if I didn’t put up a fight on her behalf. I owe him that much.

“My body. My decision.” She levels me with a stern stare.

I watch as she gets up from the dining table and struggles with getting the oven mittens on. Which only serves to make her outlook on the situation even more frustrating. Being a doctor, I know it’s her decision and that any treatment needs to be on her terms. But being her friend—fuck, she’s more than that. Jo is family—I want to keep her as healthy as possible for as long as possible.

I pull the pies out of the oven and lay them out on the side to cool. I don’t know what to say or what to do to change her mind. She’s so stubborn.

“This is why you need someone to focus all of this on,” she tells me, patting my chest. “At some point you’re going to have to let go of the past and embrace what you could still have.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am holding on to the past and all the lessons I learned from my disaster of a marriage. But it’s what’s best. It’s what works for me, and that’s never going to change.

CHAPTER 3

AVERY

The swimming instructor is really pushing Iris today. We’ve missed the last three lessons and two of the peewee swimmers’ practices, and it’s obvious Heather isn’t happy about it, even if she was understanding when I called.

Iris is still struggling with Dad’s passing—we’re both still struggling, but she’s started having stomach cramps. Something Carl keeps being callous about, but I’m worried enough that I’ve taken her to the doctor a few times. Her pediatrician thinks it’s a coping mechanism. She’s expressing what she’s feeling by putting it into physical context.

They’re practicing relay today, and every time I watch Iris dive in, I shudder with the apprehension that she’ll belly flop. Although I haven’t brought her to the pool, I’ve watched her practice in our own. Her swimming is awesome for a child her age, but the diving confidence still needs a little more work. Something I’m certain she’ll get used to over time.

“Hey, stranger!”

I look up from where I’m sitting in the bleachers to find Kayla standing behind me in one of her power dresses with a double coffee holder in one hand and her designer purse clutched in the other. We’ve been friends since high school; she’s spunky and vivacious with a sharp mind that is perfectly suited to her fundraising consultant job.

“How’re you doing?” she asks, sitting beside me and handing me our favorite frappe that’s basically black coffee slush with some half-and-half drizzled over the top. “I haven’t seen you since the funeral. I still feel terrible for not being able to be at the wake. The service was beautiful, though.”

My chest constricts at her apology because I’m hurt that she didn’t stay. I needed my friend. I needed someone there that I could lean on without worrying about Carl. Still, there’s no point in saying anything about it or creating a big thing out of it. She’s here now, and I have bigger issues on my mind.

“I’m okay.”

“And my baby?” she asks, searching out Iris’s hot pink swimming cap and waving at her when they spot each other.

“Better. I think the whole angels watching over us talk helped her. I’m trying to get her back to her routine…”

Kayla’s phone rings from her purse, and when she digs it out, I catch the caller ID.

“Carl…” She rolls her eyes as she answers the phone, fussing with her tamed curls. “I’m working on the report, I’ll call you later. Avery says hi.”

Avery does not say hi. Not after last night.

“Why do you look so pissed?”