Page 38 of Tides That Bind

“That’s Riley,” Lucas clarifies easily, as if everyone in their life has one of me.

The doctor clears his throat. “Well, Mom andRiley, all the ice cream Lucas wants. And maybe no climbing trees.” He gently unwraps Lucas's wrist and I stand back against the wall by the bed while he and the nurse secure it in a sturdier splint.

“And the wannabe lion tamer over here?” I motion at Harper and I can feel the roll of her eyes against my back before I turn.Blood gently oozes from the wound and I reach over to the tray, handing her a fresh piece of gauze.

“A fair amount of stitches and some antibiotics,” the doctor says, washing his hands. “We’ll sew you up and get you started with an IV and a prescription to take home. Can’t mess around with dog bites. We don’t want to risk infection to the bone.”

Harper sighs. “How long will that take?”

“Another hour, hour and a half. And we’ll have to write up a report. We’re required to report animal attacks.”

Lucas's eyes widen. “All animals?”

The doctor nods.

“Snakes and raccoons?”

“Sure,” the doctor entertains him.

“Grizzly bears?”

“Also yes.”

I shake my head. “Lucas, why don’t we give them some space.” I don’t know if the kid needs to see his mother get sewn up.

Immediately, Harper turns her head to me, and that’s when I remember, she hates needles, the way she refused the epidural almost violently when Lucas was born seven years ago.

My legs buckle slightly. The last time the three of us were together in a hospital was when Lucas was born.

“Oh, you guys.” Everyone looks up, finding Caroline. “You barely have one good arm between the three of you.” My sister huffs.

My eyes drop to my cast and swing to Lucas's splint, and then to the hole in Harper’s arm she’s trying to pack with gauze as the nurse and doctor prepare the suture kit. Despite the needle now being visible, she meets my gaze and for the first time in the longest time, I hear Harper laugh.

Grabbing a towel off the hook,I barely hiss when I pat the tender, sore skin surrounding the waterproof bandage on my arm. They said the bite didn’t penetrate the bone, but I’m not sure what difference it would make. What’s one more thing? Grief is bone deep anyway.

I slip on sweatpants, awkwardly pulling a tank top over my head and trudge down the stairs, unlatching Tides’s gate. Every toy car of Lucas is scattered on the floor of the entry that floods into the living room where I find him and Riley sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Both of their heads are tipped to the left as they watch the same scene fromBlack Panther.

Lucas looks at me first. “Hi, Mommy,” he says casually, like it’s any normal day and not one when he nearly became a chew toy.

He focuses back on the TV, reaching for a cup on the coffee table. I keep staring at the back of his head, at the cowlick he seemed to be born with. I don’t want to stop looking at him, watching how his small shoulders rise and fall with each breath he takes.

“He said he was starving.” Riley rises from the floor andfollows me into the kitchen. “Pizza came when you were in the shower.”

I lift the lid, but I have no appetite and shut it, moving to the fridge.

“Thanks,” I tell Riley as I eye the wine, but reach for a soda instead. When I turn around, he’s brought the pizza box to the table, along with plates. I open the fridge again, pulling out a beer.

“Water’s good,” he says.

We sit at the table and Riley lifts a piece of pizza to my plate. My face must paint the picture of my lack of appetite.

“You’re on some pretty hardcore meds,” he reminds me. “You need to eat something.”

I force myself to fold the pizza, bringing it to my lips even though it’s the last thing I want to do.

Lucas giggles from the living room, and I turn my head at the sweet sound. “Mom,” he calls out, “Tides ate my crust!”

Tides saunters into the kitchen licking his mouth clean. On any other day, I’d scold the dog and remind him that pizza crust was one of the worst things dogs could eat. I learned that from Nate.Too much sugar, Nate would say before thinking he was slick enough to hand him a piece under the table unnoticed.

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