Page 64 of Shift the Tide

Kiera turned to look at her, studying the way Izzy’s fingers tightened just slightly around the bottle in her hands. “Like, your mom?”

Izzy gave a small, tight smile, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah. Well, I don’t know why I ever expected that. My mom wasn’t the most… affectionate, I guess. I do believe my therapist has used the word, ‘withholding of love.’ After Dad died, that tie completely unraveled. We aren’t close or anything now.”

“That’s so hard. I’m so sorry you had to endure that.” Kiera said quietly, waiting for Izzy to feel comfortable enough to continue.

“But grief has this way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it. Like, now, being around another grieving person makes me feel my own grief all over again.” Izzy let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Like some asshole lurking in the dark, waiting for the right moment to punch you in the gut.”

Kiera smiled despite herself at the frank description, shaking her head.

A silent moment followed Izzy's words, a shared understanding hanging in the air between them. Kiera sipped her beer again, feeling the fizz on her tongue, the cold glass a contrast to the evening's heat.

“I just wish I could help more,” Kiera admitted, rubbing a thumb over the condensation on the bottle. “I thought that when Gwen got here, Maggie would feel a little better, but it’s like she can’t even look at her for more than a few seconds.”

Izzy shifted, resting her head against the back of her chair, her gaze flickering over to Kiera. “I wonder if the person you love the most is the hardest person to be around when you’re falling apart.” Her voice was softer now, more thoughtful. “Because they know you. They see all of it. And if they reach for you and you let them in, it’s like admitting to yourself just how bad it really is. It’s like… it hurts more to be comforted because it forces you to feel everything.”

She understood now in a way she never would have before — before the divorce, before she was forced to rebuild from the ground up. Sometimes it was easier to keep moving, to avoid looking too closely at the wreckage. Letting someone witness the full extent of your grief meant acknowledging it yourself, and maybe Maggie wasn’t ready for that.

Kiera nodded slowly, letting the thought settle. “I don’t know. I think there’s something really beautiful in letting the people you love most see you and love you through the mess.”

The cicadas buzzed through the brief silence that stretched out.

Izzy let out a small hum of consideration. “Maybe I’ve just never had that kind of love.”

Kiera sighed. “Yeah, I certainly haven’t had it in a partner.”

Still, Kiera hated feeling helpless when it came to helping Maggie through it.

She looked at Izzy, watching her fingers trace idle patterns along the condensation of her bottle, catching the distant look in her eyes. “How long ago did your dad pass?”

“My senior year of high school.” Izzy hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I shut down. Pushed my brother and my mom away… though, to be fair, neither put up much of a fight. I don’t regret not talking to either of them, don’t get me wrong.” A small, bitter smile flickered across her lips before disappearing. “But I got really good at pretending I was fine.”

Kiera watched her for a long moment, feeling the weight of that admission settle in the air between them. Izzy had been dealing with that all those years ago and Kiera had never even known. She wondered if Izzy even realized how much she was revealing, how much she was letting Kiera see.

On impulse, Kiera took Izzy’s hand, her fingers entwining with Izzy’s. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” Kiera murmured.

Izzy pressed her mouth into a thin line as though she was thinking deeply. She looked down at their joined hands, her thumb brushing lightly against Kiera’s before she squeezed back.

“What I’m trying to say is, you’re doing enough for Maggie by just being here,” Izzy whispered. “And for me.”

“Listen, before Danica and Pete get here… should we talk about…” Kiera started, gesturing with her bottle to Izzy and back to herself. “Us?”

“Can I be honest? I’m so emotionally exhausted from being here that I don’t think I can take Pete and Danica’s pestering questions on top of everything,” Izzy admitted.

“No, I completely agree. I was going to say that maybe we should just keep it quiet for now, since we need to all focus on Maggie. But we’re still… good, right?” She asked, feeling only slightly awkward.

Izzy smiled, pulling Kiera’s hand to give her knuckles a kiss. “We’re still good.”

Kiera swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, nodding. “Good.”

Kiera balancedher phone between her shoulder and ear as she poured pancake batter onto the griddle, the sizzle of the batter filling the quiet kitchen. “I know you and Pete are stressed about not being able to get here today,” she told Danica, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. “But Maggie’s aunt will be here soon, and a few of her cousins just arrived, so the house is already packed. It’s no problem to get here tomorrow for the service.”

Danica sighed on the other end of the line. “That makes sense. I just…” She groaned. “I hate not being there.”

Kiera glanced over at the dining table, where Maggie’s five-year-old twins, Arlo and Jude, were coloring. Their little sister, three-year-old Rosie, was perched on her knees beside them, gripping a crayon like it was a sword. A few feet away, Gwen sat at the far end of the table, a mug of untouched coffee in front of her, her hand running absently through her short salt and pepper hair. She hadn’t been talking much since she arrived. Shewas there, present in the house, but the space between her and Maggie felt so thick it was almost suffocating.

“I know. But Izzy and are keeping the wheels on for now,” Kiera reassured Danica. She paused, glancing at Gwen again. “Just trying to make sure everything stays as steady as it can.”

“I trust you,” Danica said. “And how areyoudoing?”

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