Page 45 of Ebbing Tides (The Lighthouse Duology #2)

The kids were in the basement by the time I got back to Sid's house. I found my friend with my dog in the living room, both watching something on TV.

My sister was nowhere to be seen.

Perfect .

“Hey, how did it go?” he asked, absent-mindedly running his palm over Lido's head.

I dropped onto the couch beside them. “How did what go?”

“The shit at the funeral home.”

“Grace didn't tell you?”

He sniffed a chuckle and said, “I wanna hear Max's version.”

I bit my lip, keeping my focus on the TV ahead. Some show I didn't recognize was playing. I'd never cared much about TV. Maybe because I never had much time to watch it. Maybe because I'd never been allowed to watch it as a kid. Books. Books were always my thing.

I wondered how Melanie felt about books. Wondered what her favorite was. If maybe she loved Dracula as much as me.

“I'm not going to the funeral,” I blurted out. “That's my version. I'm not going.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the side of Sid’s mouth begin to twitch into a smile. “Oh, yeah? And what the hell do you think you're gonna do instead?”

I swallowed, laying my hand on Lido's back and allowing his constant, unconditional companionship to soothe my shaking soul.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can, Serg,” Sid replied with a reassuring nod.

I clenched a fist in my lap and worked my jaw from side to side before asking, “Do you think I'm …”

The words tied themselves around my tongue, hanging on for dear life as embarrassment, shame, and ever-persistent fear tugged at the strings dangling from my aching heart.

It had hurt for so long that I wasn't sure when the pain had begun.

But it was progressing, it was killing me, and I needed to do something before it had the chance to finish the job.

“Do I think you're what?”

I bit at my bottom lip, then spit out, “Do you think I'm worthy?”

His brow furrowed with confusion. “Do I think you're worthy? Of what?”

The fist in my lap uncurled, and I flattened my palm, lifting it in a shrug. “I don't know. Family. Life.” I pinned my lips between my teeth before uttering, “Love.”

Sid grunted a chuckle, shaking his head. “Serg, you know better than to ask me stupid shit like that. You know what I'm gonna say.”

“Then maybe I just need to hear you say it,” I said.

His eyes glimmered with acknowledgment and mischief. “And why is that?”

“Because I'm going to Connecticut, Sid,” I said as the hand at the nape of Lido's neck clenched gently in his fur. “And I need you to tell me that I'm not going out of my mind. I need you … I need you to tell me that it's worth it.”

Sid sighed, then ran his hand over his mouth and chin. “Serg, I—”

The front door opened, and in walked Grace, carrying a few bags. When she saw us together, a smile stretched across her lips.

“Hey, guys,” she said. “I stopped at Daddy's and got his clothes together for the funeral.”

“You okay?” Sid asked, reaching out to her, beckoning her toward him with his hand.

With a rueful sigh, she accepted his gesture, held on tight, and nodded. “It was rough, but surprisingly, I'm more okay right now than I thought I'd be. For now anyway.”

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, and Grace sighed again, a look of serenity on her face.

I knew that look.

It was relief.

And I missed it. I needed it.

That was why I had to leave. That was why I had to try .

“I'm gonna order a couple of pizzas,” she said, releasing his hand and heading toward the kitchen. “Max, you wanna stay for dinner?”

“Nah,” I said, shaking my head but smiling still. “I have to get going. But thank you for the offer.”

She turned to glance over her shoulder. “Of course.”

Then, once again, Sid and I were alone.

He was quiet for a moment. Maybe he wanted to make sure she was going to stay gone for a bit. Maybe he just didn't know what to say. There was a first time for everything after all.

But finally, he said, “I've known you a long time, Serg.

Like, a really long time. We grew up together, you and me.

We became men together. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think, maybe, you've always seen love as a bad thing.

Like, not only are you unworthy of it, but that it makes you weak .

But, dude, love isn't your weakness. It's what kept you going .

Every fuckin' bump in the road … it was the possibility of being loved or loving someone else that kept you looking forward, kept you from drinking yourself to death, kept you from throwing yourself into the fucking ocean.

And, brother, there's nothing weak about that.

There's not a single fucking thing weak about you. You're the strongest, most badass motherfucker I’ve ever known, and you are more than worthy of that woman and her kids.”

Silence fell between us once again as his words settled in, acting as a balm to the wounds lacerating my heart. And then, without a chance to stop it from happening, I began to laugh as the tears stung the back of my eyes.

Sid was quick to do the same.

“You really laid it on thick with that one,” I said, sniffling and stretching my thumb and forefinger across my eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I did,” he replied, wiping a rebellious tear away from his cheek.

“Effective.”

He nodded, pulling his lips between his teeth. He was holding back, keeping his emotions at bay. So was I. But I feared … I knew … the moment I got into my truck and drove away from this house …

There'd be no stopping the waves from crashing once again.

But they would settle; they always did.

I looked forward to the ebbing tides, the calming of the sea contained within my soul. They were coming—I could feel it—and, man, I couldn't wait.

Sid stood, Lido jumped off the couch, and I followed.

I looked my friend in the eye, seeing the guy who had once been the biggest pain in my ass during basic training.

How quickly that had changed. How quickly we’d both changed.

He was right—we had grown up together—and where the fuck would life had taken me had he not been by my side every step of the way?

I wasn’t going to think about that now. I didn’t want to think about it ever again.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a tight, long hug. “Text me when you get there,” he said against my ear. “Don't fucking disappear on me.”

“Not gonna disappear,” I assured him. “Would you mind checking on my house? I don't know when I'll be back. Could be tomorrow or …”

“You got it, man.”

He clapped a hand against my back, then stood back. “Now, get the fuck out of here before your sister guilts you into going to the old bastard's funeral.”

“I'm going,” I said, patting my thigh and signaling for Lido to follow.

We headed for the door, a new rush of determination burning bright in my core.

“Hey, Serg.”

I looked over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I'm glad we made it out of there alive,” he said, his voice quiet and gruff.

“Yeah,” I replied. “So am I.”

“Love you, dude.”

I smiled despite knowing I was seconds from falling apart. “Love you too.”

***

I glanced over my shoulder at my truck, parked at the curb, looking for Lido. I tried to find a fraction of calm in seeing his smiling face, poking out from the top of the half-open window, yet found none.

I had thought this would be a good idea.

I had thought I could do this. But standing in front of this door, I doubted every ability I’d ever possessed to be brave.

For fuck’s sake, I had been to war, and while I’d never embarked into enemy territory without a little fear coalescing with the blood in my veins, I had done it without hesitation. But I was frozen now.

Turn around. Leave.

I squeezed my eyes shut, filled my lungs until my chest hurt. Then, before I allowed myself another chance to think, I rang the doorbell.

From inside, footsteps approached until the door was pulled open to reveal a face I hadn’t seen in what felt like an eternity.

She stared at me as she traded her smile for something more shocked, more horrified.

I thought about running, thought about taking off before she could say a damn thing, but before I got the chance, she whispered in a warbled voice, “Papa?”

My lungs emptied with a gasp as Jane—who looked so, so much like her mother—stepped forward, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. I hugged her back, breathing her in to remind myself that she, us, this moment was real.

She was crying, releasing soft, gasping sobs against my shoulder, as her fingers clung to me with all the strength in the world.

“Hey.” I spoke softly, stroking my fingers through her hair. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s okay …”

She stood back abruptly, wiping at the tears, leaving streaks of makeup over her cheeks.

“You … you disappeared,” she whispered, her bottom lip wiggling. “Mommy was gone, and so were you, and … oh my God, wait.” She turned and shouted into the house, “Liz! Lizzie! Come here!”

I didn’t want to disappear , I wanted to say.

I didn’t want to be gone.

But it was in that moment, as Lizzie ran down the stairs, that another familiar voice joined the mix, and it was one I was hoping I wouldn’t hear.

“Hey, kiddo. What’s going on over—”

Brett’s voice was cut off when he looked through the open doorway and saw me standing on his front stoop. The kindness faded from his eyes, and all I saw now was the man who’d pummeled my face on the day Laura and my son were buried.

“Max,” he said in a flat monotone.

“Hi, Brett.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “but what the fuck are you doing on my porch?”

Before I could answer, Lizzie pushed past her father and promptly squealed as she leaped into my arms.

“Oh my God, Papa!” she cried as I caught her.

“Elizabeth,” Brett scolded.