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He grunted, and his heavy eyelids opened for a brief moment to glance at her face; then he rolled over and presented his back to her. “Go ’way. It’s too early.”
“No, it’s not.” She propped her foot on the edge of the bed and bounced the mattress, watching as his wiry frame was jostled. “Get up.”
“Get out.”
Kit crossed the room, flung the curtains open, and spun back around as morning sunlight flooded the room.
Royal threw his hand up and sucked in a strong breath, his bloodshot eyes blinking rapidly. “Didn’t I tell you to get out?”
“Yep.”
“Then why ain’t you?”
“Because the sun’s up, the air’s cool, and the tide’s high. I’m sick to death of dog cheese—though God love Mackey for feeding us—and I’m ready to hit the creek, reach a good spot by the time the water runs low, and hammer out some fresh nourishment.” She motioned toward her high boots, ripped jeans, and worn T-shirt. “I’m dressed for the occasion and raring to go, which means all that’s left is for you to do the same.”
He scowled. “No chance of that. I’m tir—”
“You’re not tired, Dad.” She walked over and looked down at him, and his frail appearance tugged hard at her heart. “You’re depressed. And you won’t get any better wallowing around in this bed every day.” She reached out with a tentative hand and smoothed a dingy lock of hair from his hot forehead. “You need fresh air and sunshine. You need to lift your chin, open your eyes, and breathe. It won’t fix everything, but it might help you feel better for now.”
His hand curled around her wrist. Tremors ran through his fingers. “I miss her so much it hurts to breathe.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But she’s not in this house anymore.” An ache bled through her as images warred in her mind: one of hard wires on floating cages and one of gray ash spreading peacefully below the water. “Closest place to her now is on the creek. Like it or not, we’re going. You don’t have to do a thing. You don’t even have to get off the boat if you don’t want.”
“And Mackey?”
“He’s going, too. I’m headed his way soon as I see you walk into that bathroom and turn on the shower.”
One corner of his mouth hitched. “Ain’t no way you’ll get that boy outta that kitchen.”
“Want to watch me?”
He released her wrist and dragged a hand through his hair. “No. Lord knows, I ain’t up for that.”
She swept her arm toward the en suite bathroom. “Whenever you’re ready.”
It took several minutes, but Royal slung his legs, one at a time, over the edge of the bed, put his feet on the floor, and hobbled into the bathroom. Once inside, he leaned heavily into the shower, placed one hand flat against the wall, and turned the faucet on with the other. He shivered when water shot out and splashed onto his bare shoulder.
He made a face. “You gonna stand there and watch me strip down to my unmentionables, too, girl?”
Kit smiled. A real honest-to-goodness smile that lifted her spirits. “Heck, no. I sure ain’t up for that.”
Reasonably assured Royal would emerge from his room clean and dressed within the hour, she made her way to the kitchen and met a more formidable opponent.
“No!” Mackey stomped his bare foot and stabbed a spatula in the air. “That ain’t how we do it. I cook the breakfast, take a bowl to Dad, then sit on the porch. That’s how the morning goes.”
“I know, but not today,” Kit said gently. “Today we’re going to do something different. We’re going to take Dad out on the boat, and I’m going to hammer out some oysters, then roast ’em up for lunch. And after that, I’ll need help cutting the grass.”
He frowned, looked at the spatula in his hand, then back at Kit. “But I make the dog cheese.” He pointed toward the front door. “And then I sit in the chair.”
“Yes, I know. You’ve made a ton of dog cheese.” She gestured toward the fridge. “There’s enough leftovers in there to last us a week. And you’ve also done plenty of sitting lately.”
“I stay here, make dog cheese, and sit.”
“I’d like you to go with us. It’ll be good for all of us to do this together, and a dose of sunlit salt water will do you good.” She smiled. “Please, Mackey.”
“No.”
“Please.”
