Page 48 of Tides That Bind

I cut in, “You went to law school. That doesn’t exactly mean you’re an attorney.”

“No, but passing the Bar does.”

I stop in my tracks.

“When did you pass the Bar?” I shake my head, muddled with confusion because Nate never said a word. “When did youtakeit?”

All of the dozens of conversations I’ve had with Nate rumble between my ears. I never understood why Riley went to law school in the first place. I could understand deciding not to practice law. But I didn’t see how he was putting his degree to good—or at the very least, any use—running The Surf Shack.

“Does it matter?” Riley tucks his board under his arm. “Today I’m a surf instructor.”

Today, Riley isn’t just a surf instructor.

He’s something else entirely.

I couldn’t blame anyone for looking at us like we were two lunatics when we checked in at the office. After all, we had a surfboard and a dog in toe. But I’d do it all again if it brought the same joy to Lucas's face when Riley walked into the classroom. For once, I’ve never been happier to be second fiddle.

I let Riley and Tides steal the show and I swear, above the children’s laughter as Tides showed off on Riley’s cue, I swore I could hear Nate say,told ya so, Harper. Go easy on Riley. He’s a good one.

How can I say that anyone isn’t good when they go out of their way to not just show up for my son, but to make him feel like the coolest kid in the world?

“You know,” I begin as we walk out to the parking lot. “Since you’re now a fan favorite at the elementary school, maybe you should become an honorary member of the PTA,” I joke.

“Right.” A laugh rumbles in Riley’s chest. “I’m sure I’m exactly what they’re looking for.”

“Well, the single mothers, maybe.”

Riley stops walking. I’m about to clarify, to explain that I’m trying to complement him and say there probably are a few women on the PTA who wouldn’t mind having a handsome, single guy around but then I realize it’s me—I’m the single mother.

And Riley…

I shake my head, deciding his type of handsome would be best suited—better appreciated—by someone else. Someone who might be in the mood for the surfing guy in low slung pants whoalways looks like he just rolled out of bed and has a five o’clock shadow an hour after shaving, if he ever does. Riley is far frommytype, far from Nate who was meticulously neat and clean cut, had manners and believed, like me, that if you’re not early, you’re late.

Riley was early today, I remind myself before quickly deciding that today is the exception, not the norm.

“Who’s that?”

I blink to clear my thoughts and wave back at Margot across the lot. “Margot. She’s the school counselor Lucas meets with to…help with things.”

We make it to the car and I find Riley pouting.

“Kids shouldn’t need counseling.”

“They shouldn’t,” I agree. “But Lucas does. I think it’s nice he has an outlet to talk about everything with. I still wish it was me, but…I guess I’m not cool enough for Career Day and not enough to confide in.”

I keep walking to Riley’s Jeep. When I reach for the door, he stops me.

“You are.”

I shake my head. “Are what?”

“Enough,” Riley tells me earnestly. “Of everything.”

Tides tugs at the leash and Riley opens the door so he can jump in, but I remain in place while Riley loads his surfboard.

“What?” he asks, finding me staring.

I press my lips together. “That might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

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