Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) by Rachelle Paige Page B

me.”
    “I know, he told me about it.”
    “He did?”
    “Yep, he said, that sister of yours might be sweet but she’s stubborn and strong. And she’ll be okay.”
    “I hate that they’re gone. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. They were supposed to be around forever. Or at least, until I stopped needing them.”
    “And when would that have been?”
    Lizzie chuckled. Never, I’d need them forever. Even as she laughed, the tears streamed down her face. She grabbed a tissue from her top drawer, blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
    “I still need them Frizz,” he admitted. “I hate that they won’t be here for their other grandchildren. But you in that house, on that island, I don’t think it’s right. They didn’t want you to give up on yourself and I think you have.”
    “I know Patrick. But I haven’t given up on myself. I actually like this job. And yeah, when the car accident happened in November… and I walked away and… they… didn’t,” she replied, halting with each painful word. She took in a steadying breath and started again.
    “I couldn’t have imagined getting out of bed every morning let alone what my future might look like. But slowly I’ve kind of put a life together for myself here. And I believe that this is where I’m supposed to be. I can see it. Please don’t make me do this.”
    “I don’t want to. You know I don’t care about the money. I care about you.”
    A breeze stirred up the Spanish moss in the live oaks outside her window. As she watched the branches sway in the wind, a figure came into view in the distance on the tabby path. Tall, trim, walking with assurance and confidence. She didn’t have to squint to make out Mark. I can’t be mad at him for my circumstances. It’s not his fault that I needed the job.
    “You know I can’t buy that house and keep my own house too, Frizz,” Patrick caught her attention again. “What are your choices? You have to be making at least sixty thousand if you’re not pursuing your art junk.”
    She bit her lip at that phrase. As an engineer, he’d never had time or patience to understand the liberal arts. And she didn’t have enough of either to explain the value to him.
    “Look, time is running out. It’s time to make a decision. Either you go back to school or you get cut out.”
    You do too. Licking her lips, she tasted the cherry of her lip-gloss and a subtle hint of salt from the air. He’d never once yelled at her that he would get cut out of the will too. He’d never put that on her. But she collapsed under the weight of the responsibility she’d unintentionally shouldered.
    “They’re manipulating you from the other side,” Patrick interrupted her. “Don’t let them. I don’t care about the money, I care about you.”
    “How can I convince you? What do I need to do to show you that this is the right place for me?”
    “You still have to clean out that house. You can start there.”
    “But if I stay…”
    “And how’s that going to happen now?”
    “I could get a raise,” she offered, the idea forming.
    With the increased work-load she’d be taking on for Mark, she might be able to leverage that as a raise. Maybe all was not lost yet? She knew how much the other planner had been paid, and that role still hadn’t been filled. Could that money be hers for the taking?
    “If you can swing it, great. But either way the house needs to be cleaned out. You haven’t packed up a thing, you barely enter any of the rooms. It’s like a strange museum to them. That’s not healthy. You want to convince me you’re moving forward? Let me come help you clean the house.”
    “Okay, I’m ready. In fact, I might start without you.”
    “Without me? Huh, that didn’t take much convincing.”
    “No, I think you’re right. And if this is what you need for me to prove to you I’m serious about my life here, then I’ll do it.”
    “I still think you should go back to school, but I’m willing to