Page 104 of Escaping Our Reality

“They are out there helping. Some people are trapped in their houses by the trees. I was waiting here, trying to get ahold of Raylee and you.”

I swing the chainsaw and axes back onto my sore shoulders. “Just point me in the right direction.” Teresa points to the left. I stop in front of Lulu, lowering my voice. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken so mean to her. “Youwillstay here. You willnotcome with me. You willnotwander all over this death trap. It’s too dangerous. So help me, Lulu, I will completely flip my shit. Night is falling, and I cannot help your uncle and cousin if I’m consumed with worry about you. Do you understand?”

She stares at me. Wide-eyed and innocent. Like she’s never done a single thing to cause me one second of worry.

Hell, I’ve done nothing but worry about her since the moment I laid eyes on her.

Teresa places a hand on my shoulder. “She can help me. Several houses right around here have families with small children. We need to gather the little kids and bring them to our house so the parents can sort through what’s left, put up tarps, cut trees, do whatever they need to do. We’ll just hit a few houses. I promise we’ll be back here before it’s dark.”

I turn back to Lulu. “Promise me.”

She completely surprises me. “Ask me.”

I don’t have time for this, Ray needs my help. But how can I deny My Lulu. “Tell me something. Something no one else knows.”

She kisses my lips. “From here on out, I’ll never break my promises to you.”

***

Hours.

We work for hours. Me, Ray, Holt, Ridge, Ridge’s father, and Ridge’s little brother, Cullen. And we are all covered from head to toe in complete filth.

Around midnight, when none of us can barely stand, we walk back over to Ray and Teresa’s. We say goodnight to Ridge andhis family and head inside. Candles are lit, casting a soft glow on the sleeping children scattered across the living room. If I had been thinking straight, I would’ve packed all the battery lanterns from the homestead, but they are all in the storage bins. Assuming, I still have storage bins left. I’m hoping the site and my truck made it out of the storm untouched since the body shop and gas station are fine.

I count seven slumbering little bodies. It looks like Teresa and Lulu made pallets for the children. The fixings for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are spread out across the kitchen counter, and Teresa is stacking sandwich on top of sandwich on a large platter.

“I thought you all would be starving.” She adds another sandwich to the pile. “The hot water heater already ran out of water, so you guys can either take a cold shower or just wash off. A sheriff’s deputy dropped off several gallons of distilled water. We put a gallon jug in each of the bathtubs; at least it’s room temperature.”

Ray wraps Teresa in a hug. She holds him back like she hasn’t seen him in ten years, not even caring that his sweat and filth are rubbing all over her. They intimately whisper to one another. I glance around, looking for my own woman to hug. A small sliver of worry pierces my heart when I don’t see her.

“She’s upstairs in Raylee’s room, rocking the baby. Her room is the only one with a glider.”

“Baby?”

She nods. “Neighbors five houses up have an eleven-month-old.”

Holt bumps me on the shoulder, handing me a flashlight. “Come on, I’ll show you. You can borrow some clothes too.”

“Crutch, come back down and eat after you see her. You need your strength. Ray just said y’all are heading back out to meet the Conways at six in the morning for more work.”

I nod, following Holt up the stairs. “Yes, ma’am.”

We stop outside of his room. He grabs me a fresh T-shirt, pair of gym shorts, socks, and jeans. “Thought you’d wanna sleep in the shorts. The jeans for tomorrow may be an inch or two too short, but they should fit in the waist.” He furrows his brow. “I didn’t give you any of my underwear. You’re a chill dude, but I don’t think we’re exactly there yet.”

I chuckle, rubbing my hands across my face. “Smart move. Thanks.” He points me in the right direction as he closes himself in the bathroom to wash up. I slowly push open the bedroom door. It was only closed halfway, but it still creaks.

She’s standing in front of the large window, blinds raised, and she’s looking out into the neighborhood. The cold front has pushed away the remaining clouds and the moon shines bright, illuminating the devastation in an eerie glow. Her thin hips and curved bottom sway from left to right as she rocks the baby back and forth in her arms.

Holy. Shit.

What a beautiful sight for sore eyes.

Wiping those thoughts from my mind and filing them away for the future—a long, long, long time in the future—I walk over to her, sweep her hair to the side and gently kiss the scar on her neck. She combed her hair. When I left her, it looked like rats had taken up residence in her ponytail. She’s in the same clothes and smells like dried rainwater and ozone. She moans, leaning back against my chest. I can’t smell good, but she doesn’t seem to care. I peek over her shoulder at the sleeping baby. A little girl. Her small fist is balled up like she’s about to punch someone and her little face is scrunched up like she’s mad. All of a sudden, her face relaxes in her sleep and she smiles.

I laugh under my breath. That’s pretty damn funny.

“It took forever for her to go to sleep. And she can’t decide if she’s mad or happy about it. I guess she’s both.” She nuzzlesagainst my jaw. “Her name is Alexis. Her parents’ house is bad, but not destroyed. The mom will come get her tomorrow morning. She said they’ll go to her sister’s house.”

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