Page 31 of Tides That Bind

I carefully take the stairs and hold Lucas with one arm while I reach for the door with my free hand, pulling it open for Tides to go inside first. When I turn to avoid hitting us both with the door, my eyes land on the small table in front of the porch swing.

And sitting on it? Bouquets of flowers, white tulips. And leaning against the wall? A surfboard just a bit bigger than Lucas. In the faint light, I see it’s painted with all the Avengers, Lucas with a surfboard right in the middle, Tides at his feet.

I can’t think about the board. But I can think about the flowers and how my windowsill has sat naked, free of a vase, for two months.

I swallow as I count them.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

The flowers always came even when Nate was in Afghanistan. And now, they come even after he’s gone.

I should smile. I should feel so lucky that I married the kind of guy who somehow planned for this, a sweet, familiar rainbow I would very much need to see in the aftermath of grief’s storm.

Really, it’s a struggle to smile. Because I know all this already. I hate how the universe thought I needed death to show me the kind of man my husband was.

But what I hate more is that Riley had something to do with it.

“I try to follow the child’s lead. Lucas loves to draw. And loves his dog, apparently.”

This is my first sit down with the school counselor, Margot. I sift through the papers on the table. There are eight drawings.Six of them are of Lucas and Tides. “They’re kind of inseparable.”

“It’s normal for children to crave consistency following a death. Sometimes that comes in the form of a toy, or a pet, another family member. They look to find bits and pieces of the person they lost in something else. Tides seems to be a great comfort to him.”

I squeeze my eyes shut because shouldn’t it be me? Shouldn’t I be the comfort Lucas craves?

Margot clears her throat. “I didn’t mean to insinuateyouaren’t comforting. I only meant that for Lucas, there’s a direct tie to his father through his dog.”

I pick up another photo labeledMy Familyand trace the brown of Tides’s coat, the yellow of my hair, the smile on Lucas's little face. I stop when I get to the other person in the picture. Where I expect to find Nate’s short crew cut, I find Riley’s dark mop of hair, a colorful surfboard at his side.

“This is Riley,” I tell Margot, unsure if she knows. “Not Nate.”

She lets go of my hand and sits back. “Lucas told me about Riley. He talks about him a lot.”

“More than his dad?” I ask. I don’t find a stitch of Nate in any of the photos.

“Children often process what’s right in front of them. They’re very literal. They can’t quite understand the idea of someone always being a part of their family when they physically aren’t present.” Margot says. “Lucas not including your husband in these photos isn’t alarming, even if it might be hurtful.”

I place the drawing down. “I don’t know what Lucas told you about Riley, but he actually no longer lives with us.” I sigh. “It’s kind of another thing Lucas is dealing with…it’s complicated. Riley is complicated.”

Pressing my lips together, I shake my head. This is about Lucas.

I look at the drawing again and frown. But for Lucas, it’s also about Riley.

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