Page 18 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

I looked at Silas, ready to deny it, but he said, “He sure did. Said something about you killing your last one.”

Mary gasped and whacked him on the chest. “Hey!”

Silas backed away laughing, winking at me.

It was only as Mary looked in glee at the damn vacuum that I realized that my desperate attempt to stay ‘free’ was something I’d never have to worry about again.

Because seeing Mary’s smile? That was worth the world. I didn’t need freedom when I had her.

Chapter

Nine

Let’s get baked.

—T-shirt

PRU

“This one is my absolute favorite,” I whispered to Hoax.

Hoax looked over at me with a smile. “I think he purposefully hides that one in the back so he can keep it to himself.”

“I’ve made several loops around this tree, and I’ve seen it every year since I became your wife,” I told him. “And every year, I think about asking him, but I’m too scared to make him hurt.”

“You wouldn’t ever hurt me,” Grandpa said, startling the both of us. “Talking about my wife is the best feeling in the world. It makes me feel like she’s still here with me.”

He placed his hand over his chest, and I felt tears prickle my nose and eyes.

“Tell me about it,” I suggested.

He picked up the ornament.

“This was the moment we started our ornament tradition,” he said softly, his eyes downcast as he studied the photo.

It was a picture of Mary when she was young.

Very young.

She looked even younger than I was.

She was standing by a motorcycle, and my very young looking grandfather stood beside the two of them, a wide smile on his youthful face.

“I love this story,” Phoebe said as she joined us at the back of the tree. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“You know it?” I asked, slightly hurt that I’d never thought to ask about it before.

“Yeah,” she breathed. “I do.”

Chapter

Ten

I do it for the ho’s.

—Mary to Dixie

MARY

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