Page 65 of Tides That Bind

Riley looks at the plate and then leans forward. I can smell the toothpaste even through his breakfast and coffee. “All thesingle ones with no girlfriend to make them an egg sandwich,” he whispers, moving to the sink.

I hear Lucas scramble back upstairs.

“He didn’t say anything about Tides, did he?”

“You couldn’t come up with anything better than Silas took him to the vet?”

I furrow both brows. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Riley begins, waving his hand between us. “Maybe he had a doggy play date.”

“A doggy play date? What, he’s spending the morning at a friend’s house?”

Riley folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah,” he says as if that’s a normal occurrence.

“A half lie felt better than a total lie. I don’t like hiding the truth from my kid, Riley.”

“You lie about Santa,” he reminds me. “And by the way, don’t know if you have much more time with that one.”

I scoff. “You’re coming after me about Santa? Who raised you? Scrooge or the Grinch?”

Riley tilts his head to the side as if he’s thinking about an appropriate answer, but shakes his head. “What about the tooth fairy?”

“Well, I take it back, sorry. I lie to preserve childhood innocence. Sue me.”

When the words leave my lips, Riley and I both fight a smile. And even though the crazy idea of suing the police department to secure custody of a dog is, well, crazy, there’s something about the outlandish idea—this shared secret between us—that keeps me smiling even after he walks out of the kitchen.

“You’resuingthe police department for adog?”

The chair wobbles slightly when I lean back. I can practically hear Harper scolding me, so I let it fall forward and stand.

“Tides isn’t just a dog, Caroline.” My sister should know this.

Her sigh is nearly palpable through the phone. “Riley…I get that, I really do. But…”

Internally, I cower. “You think it’s stupid.”

“I didn’t say that. You’re throwing a lot at me all at once here, just give me a second.” She sighs. “It’s a big undertaking, Riley.”

I lean my head back in frustration. We’re adults. I’m her older brother. And I know my sister well enough to know when she’s trying not to hurt my feelings. This is something that came with maturity. She never gave a rat’s ass when we were kids. The difference now that she’s older, Caroline tries to be nice when telling me one of my ideas is dumb.

I stare at the books I’ve brought from my apartment and put on the table. If I’m being honest with myself, the prep probably surpasses the work of filing the motion. I mean, sure I passed the Bar. But even trial attorneys start somewhere. They intern with the best litigating firms. They know their way in and out of acourt room. They’ve built their confidence from the ground up. And me? It’s the same old story.

I’m intimidated by reading books. I’m intimidated by speaking in public.

Unfortunately for me, to pull this off, I need to do both of those things.

Eyeing the stack in front of me, I rub my forehead. “I’m not expecting a cake walk.”

More like a mud run, I contemplate adding, but if I’ve got to fake my way in the court room, I’ve got to start faking it now. But I do need a little help.

“Trust me. I hate that I’m about to ask you for help, but that’s what I’m going to do.” Caroline is silent over the phone for several long, drawn out seconds. “Are you still there?”

“I’m waiting,” she responds.

“Waiting for what?”

“For you to ask for my help.”

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