Page 94 of Ebbing Tides
Iwoulddo it again.
I pulled the truck up to the curb, and without ending the silence between us, my sisters and I climbed out and headed slowly toward the door.
Finally, Grace said, “You guys can stay here tonight, if you want.”
Lucy turned the offer down immediately, but not without gratitude. She said she wanted to lie in her own bed with her husband and cry herself to sleep, and the moment she left my truck, she headed to her car, got in, and drove away.
But I thought about it. I didn’t particularly want to drive on such a minimal amount of sleep. Besides, I wasn’t sure where I’d even want to go. I sure as hell didn’t want to go back to Dad’s house, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to go home either. The thought of facing dozens of my wife’s pictures while mourning the loss of what could’ve been with the woman of my dreams left me disgusted with myself.
“Yeah,” I said to Grace with a nod, my voice gravelly from lack of sleeping and speaking. “I think I’ll crash here.”
“Yeah?” Her face lit with a smile as she dug her keys from her bag.
I nodded again in reply.
“Okay. You want to take the living room couch or the den?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I replied with a shrug. “I just need to sleep somewhere before I start thinking this porch looks good.”
She sniffed a small laugh. “I’ll put you in the den. The kids are less likely to wake you up.”
I didn’t mind the kids. I didn’t mind if they wanted to jump on me after only a few hours of sleep, didn’t mind if they demanded my attention and affection. But I kept it to myself as we entered the house. Lido bounded toward me with pathetic little whimpers of desperation as he pressed his entire eighty pounds against my legs, attempting to knock me to the floor.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, scrubbing my hands over his back. “I know you missed me.”
Grace looked over at us with an adoring gaze. I could tell she wanted to say something with the way she lingered there, watching us and fidgeting with the strap of her purse. She reminded me of Melanie, the way she always fidgeted, and why I noticed that about a woman I had spent a week with and not my own sister settled restlessly against my mind.
“Melanie is really nice,” Grace finally said softly. “And her boys are so sweet.”
I had known she had something to say. I just wished it hadn’t been that.
“Yeah,” I muttered, smoothing my palm over Lido’s head.
“You’re happy with her.Shemakes you happy.”
With a groan, I reached for the back of my neck and squeezed, silently begging my heart to relax as I looked offtoward my sister, hoping she caught the desperate plea in my eyes.
Apparently, she didn’t.
“I don’t know anyone who deserves to be happy more than you,” she said, choking on the words as a tear fell from her eye. “You’ve sacrificed so much and—”
“Grace,” I cut her off, tired and in desperate need to not talk about this. “I’m sorry. I just want to go to bed, all right?”
She wiped the tears from her face as she nodded. “No, I know. I know. I just … I just worry so much about you. All the damn time. And I just thought, if you were withher, I wouldn’t—”
“Grace.” I begged her with my eyes to just simply shut up. “Please.”
She pressed her lips together to form a thin line. She looked so sad, so concerned, and I thought she might say something else to dig away at my wounded heart a little more. But to my relief, she only nodded and turned to walk away.
“I'll get you a couple of pillows and a blanket,” she said quietly, heading toward the downstairs linen closet.
“Thanks.”
With a sigh, I dropped onto the couch. Lido whined as he sat between my open knees. His tail thumped against the floor, his head tipped back. He couldn't get close enough. I mustered a weak smile as I scrubbed my hands over his ears and leaned forward to press my forehead to the top of his head, closing my eyes and succumbing to another bout of searing pain piercing my soul.
“You're a good boy,” I muttered quietly. “You're a really good boy.”
The warmth of his body, the softness of his fur … I focused on the things I could feel to calm the torment my mind was insistent on putting me through. But what good would it do tomorrow or the day after or the day after that?
