Page 5 of Tides That Bind

I scoff even though I kind of agree. “I’d hardly call that a catastrophe.”

“Yeah, tell that to the birthday boy.” Riley opens the fridge and pops open a can of beer, leaving me wondering how he stays in such good shape for someone who starts drinking at three-thirty in the afternoon.

The tape peels but splits in half. “They didn’t have anything smaller? We’re only having six other kids. I have a tart for the adults. It’s just us, your sister and Finn, and Silas.”

Riley sticks out his tongue and raises his face to the ceiling. “Why isSilascoming?” he asks about one of Nate’s colleagues. “He doesn’t have any kids. Isn’t that weird?”

“Riley.” I turn away from the counter and state the obvious. “Youdon’t have any kids. And neither do Finn and Caroline.”

He takes a sip of his beer. “Yeah, but Lucas is my…he’s mybuddy. I can’t stand Silas.”

“I know the feeling,” I mutter, turning my attention back tothe box. "I guess people can take some home when they pick up their kids.”

“Or we’ll just eat cake for breakfast for the next few days,” Riley interjects.

I raise an eyebrow. “Cake? For breakfast?”

“Who says there’s anything wrong with that?”

“Just those of us worried about cavities and type 2 diabetes.”

Riley waves me off. “Oh. By the way, Lucas's present is going to be a little late. A buddy of mine down in San Diego is customizing a surfboard for him.”

“To hang in his room?” I ask.

I told Nate, no surfing for Lucas until he was older, like ten or twenty-seven. I wonder if the reason it scares me so much is because I didn’t grow up near the water. But even though we live in a beach community, even though Lucas took his first steps ever in the sand, I’m still saying no to surfing until he’s a little bigger and stronger.

“Nate’s teaching him this year.”

I shake my head. “No he’s not.”

“Yes he is.”

I open my mouth to saynoagain, but Riley interjects quickly. “Is your response to everything justnoby default?”

I scowl. “No.”

Riley snorts.

I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Lucas surfing is between me and my husband, notyouand my husband.”

Riley just raises his eyebrows, as if my words have surprised him. “I’ve got to go rinse off. Still have sand in my trunks.”

Peering out of the corner of my eye, I watch Riley head into the mudroom to go out the backdoor and catch sight of the sand speckled in his dark hair, concentrated in the signature knot he ties his long locks in daily—with arubber band. It drives me crazy.

I lift open the box before promptly shutting it.

“Riley.”

“What?”

I press my lips together, backing away from the counter. “When you went to the bakery, what did you say exactly?”

Riley’s head appears through the doorway he just walked through. “That I was picking up a cake reserved under Jones. That’s what Nate said.”

“You didn’t think to ask to see the cake?”

“They were about to close and the box was taped up already. It’s acake. What could be wrong with it?”

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