Page 1 of Against The Tide

CHAPTER 1

AVERY

TWO MONTHS EARLIER…

I knew that one day I would be standing at this grave. But I never imagined it would be this soon.

The pastor closes his bible, holding it to his chest while Dad’s casket is lowered into the earth. He was fifty-nine years old, ready to retire and enjoy the rest of his life.

Now he’s gone.

Iris steps back into me, and I hold my seven-year-old daughter as tight as I can while the guests sing along to Abide With Me. It was Dad’s favorite hymn; he sang it at the top of his lungs during every service.

I swallow down the barrage of tears that clog my chest, but its fist tightens around my heart with every beat. With every guest that pauses in front of me to pay their respects. My lips are moving even though I don’t recognize the words I’m speaking.

“I’m sorry, doll.” Mike, my father’s partner, nods at me before grabbing a handful of soil and dropping it into the open grave. I don’t know what he’s whispering down at Dad, but my chest aches, echoing the drawn expression on his face through the numbness in my chest.

“Oh, Avery.” I glance up from the grave to Congressman Morgan’s mother. “Darling…”

“Nora. Thank you. Thank you for coming.”

Nora and my father have been close friends since I can remember. He used to play golf with her late husband, and once their son Rafe decided to run for Congress, he managed his campaigns.

“A heart attack,” she sighs sadly, caressing Iris’ face while I hug her closer. “And so sudden…”

“Mom, you’re holding up the line.” Rafe squeezes my shoulder, and my teeth clench at the throb scorching down my arm and across my collarbone. “We’ll see you at the wake.”

He urges his mother onward, leaving me suffocated by pain and closely guarded by the man who caused the physical share of it. Person after person shares their sympathy until the dark, burgeoning clouds decide to spit.

“Mommy, does this mean Pop is happy?” Iris holds out her hand to catch the drops. “He loved the rain.”

“Yes, it does,” I tell her with only a crackle in my voice as we walk to the processional car waiting on the gravel path.

I slip in behind Iris when the driver opens the door and Carl slides in on the other side. The tinted windows darken the already foreboding day. Julys in Washington are ordinarily sunny and hot; today, however, has been cloudy and wet. I’m ready for it to be over. To go home and finally breathe out all the pain.

“Sit in your own seat,” Carl tells Iris when she climbs onto my lap. “You’re a big girl, you don’t need to act like a baby.”

Sitting between us, she fusses over the black skirt of her cotton dress, tracing the broderie pattern with silent sobs. He’ll probably punish me for babying her, but I can’t watch her cry in silence. Not today. Buckling her in, I pull her into my side, brushing her blonde waves back.

“You know what comes after the rain?”

With reddened eyes, she smiles faintly at me as we both look out of the window. “A rainbow.”

“Yeah, so now that Pop is an angel, he’ll paint you all the rainbows to make you smile.”

“I miss him already.”

“Me too, baby.”

I take a deep breath to steel myself and hum along to the hymn that’s echoing on repeat in my head as I sink back into the seat. Tears build in the back of my eyes, threatening to escape with every bump on the drive.

“Stay away from Rafe Morgan.” Carl’s sharp order breaks the silence as the car comes to a stop. When I don’t acknowledge it, he asks, “You hear me?”

God, I wish he’d give me one day free of his crap. My head is pounding, every inch of my body is sore, and my insides are pulverized by grief.

“Avery.”

“Yes!” I regret my snappy response the minute it bursts from my lips. “Yes, I heard you.”