Page 35 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

“I’ll be lucky to make it until next year,” she finally admitted.

I closed my eyes, tears—God, so many fucking tears—clogging my throat. “I know, baby.”

She pressed a kiss to my chest. “I’m gonna fight hard, baby. But it won’t be enough.”

I felt my throat close. “I know.”

“I want you to remember me.”

The tear slipped free. “There’s no way in this world that I’d ever forget you.”

She snuggled even deeper. “You promise?”

“Yes,” I said simply. “I do.”

Chapter

Nineteen

Let’s get on the naughty list, baby.

—Dixie to Mary

DIXIE

Present

I sat on the bed, on my side, like I’d done for the last twenty years.

I still made the bed exactly how she liked it.

I got up in the morning and watered all her plants, happy that I’d managed to keep most of them alive and well over the long years since she’d been gone.

Sometime last year I’d thought about getting a new bed because it was hard to get in and out of this one, but the thought of losing yet another part of my wife had sent a wave of grief so deep through me that I couldn’t stand the thought of doing it.

I still remembered the day I’d built it for her like it was yesterday.

She’d loved it so much.

She’d even helped me burn the wood to match her ‘motif.’

I ran my hand over the pine boards, admiring the blackened knot.

My eyes strayed to the side, and despite the way it was getting harder to breathe, I smiled.

My fingers traced the letters.

D + M

Dixie plus Mary.

I’d tried to add a forever underneath the M, but she’d wanted me to leave it just like that.

So I had.

And I looked at it every night I went to bed and prayed I’d dream of her.

“Mary, I miss you like crazy,” I said into the silent night.

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