Page 83 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

The lady that’d been working had been steadily shutting down the store, preparing herself to leave and not come back for at least three days.

Which was how I’d walked out of the grocery store with twice what I expected to get because she said “it’s going to go bad anyway.”

My back hatch was loaded down with groceries, and I was hopeful for the first time in weeks that my kid would have three meals a day.

When I got out, my hand went into my pocket again.

Pulling out the yellow paper, I stared at it.

I looked down at the number that was written on the Post-it he’d given back to me and knew now why he’d looked at me so hard when he’d handed it over.

He knew that my dad had been the one to hurt me, and he was giving me his number so that, if I ever needed a way out, I’d have it.

Little did he know that I didn’t have a cell phone to even call him.

Those cost money—and required a credit check which I couldn’t pass.

I shoved the note back into my pocket and got Anleigh out of the car, taking her straight to my room.

The groceries came in next, and the entire time I was freezing my ass off because of how cold it was getting.

The wind was howling, too.

Once I had everything put away, I went back for Anleigh, thankful that my dad hadn’t bothered coming out of his room to help me bring them in.

When Anleigh was in my arms—as well as her Christmas bear that she carried around with her everywhere—I walked back outside and hurried over to Mrs. Rawls’s house.

I knocked on the door and smiled when Mrs. Rawls answered.

“Hey.” I smiled. “I was coming over to see if you needed any help with anything before this storm hits.”

Mrs. Rawls reached for Anleigh and said, “Oh, no. Not today. My grandson helped me with everything.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “I didn’t get here as early as I’d intended, and I was worried.”

“Come in,” she said. “Meet my grandson.”

I would like nothing less, but I smiled and did it anyway.

My feet had just hit the carpet when Mrs. Rawls said, “Oh, dear. Where is your jacket?”

I laughed. “Oh, yeah…well…I don’t have one.”

I hadn’t had one since I ripped mine up and made a smaller version for Anleigh.

She’d outgrown it for this year, already.

“You don’t have a coat?” she gasped.

I shook my head. “I cut my old one up and sized it down for Anleigh last year and haven’t gotten a chance to get a new one yet.”

“You can have one of my old ones,” she immediately offered.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s…”

She walked away with Anleigh, leaving me in the entryway.

I followed, finding her in her hall closet.

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