Page 4 of Tides That Bind

I press up on my toes, giving him a small kiss. “Set an alarm because I don’t need any more messes to clean up.”

Nate heads to the back door and whistles. I look beyond the yellow tulips in the vase on the windowsill and peek into the backyard. Tides abandons the battle with his tail and rushes up the porch steps.

“Up.”

I hear Nate command Tides and he returns to the kitchen with the dog in his arms. “I wiped his paws but better safe than sorry.” He winks at me before heading up the stairs.

I move back to the counter, covering the remaining fondant I had rolled out with wax paper, quickly cleaning up so at least when I get home there won’t be much left to do.

“Harp. Forget the cake,” Nate yells from upstairs a minute later. “I’ll call and reserve something. Riley can grab one on his way home from the beach.”

The Surf Shack is closed on Fridays during the off season, but it doesn’t surprise me Riley is at the beach. If he isn’t there, in his apartment above the garage, or at Ship-Slapped—his bar of choice—he’s in the water.

Riley is either on a wave or on a bender, and when his immaturity gets the best of him, he’s on both.

I want to tell Nate to forget it, but I look at the sad balloon arch, watching one balloon slip to the floor.

Besides, it must be near impossible to mess up store-bought cake.

“Oh, this issick.”

“Sick?”

Apparently Lucas turned into a teenager between leaving for school this morning and returning this afternoon.

“Sick, Mom, like dope.”

I shake my head and look at my mother-in-law, Claire, but she’s no help. “Dope?” I ask.

Lucas's shoulders sink. “Cool,” he drags out, frustrated by the lesson.

“Where did you learn to talk like that?” I ask, grateful Claire intercepts his unwashed hands before they reach the bowl of chips.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” she says.

We all turn when the front door opens after Riley seems to have jimmied it open with his hip since he holds a large cake box in his hands. He tilts his head forward, peeking over his black wayfarers.

“Oh, that’s pretty dope.”

Claire tries to stifle her laughter.

“You’re not helping,” I tell her before narrowing my eyes at Riley. “Did you go into a store like that?”

Riley extends his bare arms, holding the box out from his equally bare chest as he looks down.

“Like what?” he asks, as if there’s nothing wrong with the fact he’s only wearing board shorts that hang low on his waist. “I did wear shoes. They’re in the car.” he says, and it’s only now I realize he’s barefoot as well. “It’s hot as hell today. Isn’t itNovember?”

Shaking my head, I take the box, surprised by its weight. “Go change and clean up. Your friends will be here soon,” I call out to Lucas before I move into the kitchen, placing the cake on the counter.

Riley rubs Lucas's light brown hair as he wizzes by and gives Claire a kiss on the cheek before she grabs the plastic plates. “I’ll take these outside.”

I carry the cake into the kitchen and Riley follows, stuffing a chip into his mouth, without a doubt leaving a trail of crumbs on my freshly mopped floor but what else is new?

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asks.

“Like, how about you use a plate?” I scratch at the tape holding the box shut. Just to annoy me, I swear he begins to chew even louder.

“No.” He banishes the crumbs from his hands by brushing them together. “I was thinking something like,thank you, Riley, for saving Lucas's party and preventing a catastrophe.”

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