Hard Edge - Tess Oliver Page 0,20

hung down to her knees. “Sadly, dripping wet is actually an improvement.” She leaned down, pulled all the material forward and twisted it to remove some of the water. “You don’t happen to have a towel in the truck?”

“Actually, I do. I was hanging out at a beach house about an hour from here, at Chantry’s Pointe, when my mom called about the accident. I rented it for three weeks, hoping Grady and I would head back there after visiting with our parents.” The last statement fell out like a piece of heavy lead. How different everything had been just a few days ago when I was looking forward to hanging out with my brother on the beach.

Kenna took hold of my hand and squeezed it. “They say time eases all this, but, at the moment, that doesn’t seem possible.” She released my hand and crossed her arms around herself. The sun was warm but the relentless ocean breeze against a sopping wet dress caused her to shiver with cold.

“Come on, Kiki Dinklefrost, let’s get you home.”

Again, she reached for my hand, and this time, I gripped hers tightly, not wanting to let it go. We trudged along the warm sand back toward the parking lot and the truck.

“I know I’ve already said this, Trinket, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Chapter 8

Caden

I’d showered off the sand and salt and pulled on dry clothes. I could hear the last few guests saying good-bye to my dad at the front door. I was relieved to have missed most of the wake. I could never figure out the reasoning behind food and conversation after a funeral.

My dad passed the hallway on the way to the kitchen. He still looked hunched over and as if his feet were filled with sand as he shuffled past. I knew I’d disappointed him yet again today, but I found that I had to deal with Grady’s death on my own terms, in my own way. I’d grown almost sick with the thought of sitting through a long church service with a lot of people who I no longer knew or cared to talk to. And the argument with my dad the night before had left me feeling more alone than ever. We’d hardly spoken all day.

I’d thought plenty about what Kenna had said, about how my dad felt about me, but it was hard convincing myself that any of it was true.

I walked to the kitchen. Dad was filling the sink with soapy water. A tower of dishes stood nearby ready to be washed. The kitchen table was covered with a mosaic of half-empty casserole dishes and cookie trays.

Dad was in his own world staring down into the growing plume of bubbles. He hadn’t heard me walk in. I came up next to him, picked up a sponge and began dipping the plates, one by one, into the soapy water.

Dad didn’t say anything at first. He walked over and took a dry dish towel from the drawer. Then he stood next to me to dry the dishes as I placed them in the rack.

“Where’s Sally and Bev?” I asked, deciding to break the tense silence.

“They both went in to take naps. It’s going to take Sally a long time to recover from this. Not completely sure she ever will. Thank goodness Bev has been here to lend her support.”

I wasn’t completely sure if the last comment was a dig on my recent lack of support, but I decided to let it go. I wasn’t in any mood to get into it again, and if I was being honest with myself, I deserved it.

“Dad, I’m sorry if I let you down today. You know—me and sitting still in a church—I just didn’t think I could bear it. I needed to be by myself to mourn my brother. I have to absorb this on my own. There was nothing a pastor or friends and family could’ve said to me today that would have brought me comfort.”

“Except perhaps Kenna.” He lifted his hand to stop me from responding. “It’s not an indictment, Cade. I just noticed that you left with her. I know how close you and Grady were to Kenna. It makes perfect sense that she would be the person who could ease some of the pain. Lots of fond memories between the three of you. I was always glad she put up with you and Grady enough to stick around. She was always a good influence. Where did