Page 97 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

“I’m okay,” I lied.

The man turned to my daughter and said, “I think your mommy is lying.”

Anleigh offered him a timid smile and whispered, “Yeah.”

I grinned. “I’m not a liar, am I, Annie?”

“Yeah,” she whispered again.

I giggled.

“Take a nap, Merri. I’ll hold down the fort for a couple of hours.” He looked outside. “Besides, it’s not like I can go anywhere or do anything. I’m fairly sure that the roads are officially unpassable. I haven’t seen a car come by in over two hours.”

He was right.

In the time that I’d been there, I’d seen one vehicle come past, and that had been a massive tow truck likely going out to help someone that’d been crazy—like me—enough to venture out into the world.

The drive over had been harrowing.

I never wanted to drive in snow again.

“Okay,” I said as I stood up.

Now that I was full of pancakes and my adrenaline had calmed, I now realized I was feeling weak and slightly dizzy.

It was evident based on the way my body felt that I would be getting sick imminently.

Speaking of getting sick…

“She’ll need more Tylenol in about an hour and a half,” I said as I looked at the massive clock over the wall across from me. “And ibuprofen in three and a half. I’ll wait to go to bed until I can get her that next dose of Tylenol.”

He waved me off. “If you’ll leave it out where I can find it, I’ll give it to her. I have three nieces, one of which is this age. I can get her the meds.”

I smiled, though anxiety filled my belly.

I’d never had anyone offer to take care of Anleigh besides Cinda, and it was weird giving someone else my kid and saying, “here, take care of my heart for me while I take a nap.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded soberly. “I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

And his promise was enough to have my feet shuffling toward the bed.

I don’t know why I trusted this man with the most important part of my heart, but something inside of my soul told me to, and I tended to trust my gut. It’d saved me quite a few times over the years.

I crawled into the bed, heading right for the spot where I knew he slept, and collapsed into the pillows.

I was right.

The bed was like sleeping on a cloud.

Fluffy, soft pillows. Even softer sheets. The pillowcase wasn’t silk, but it could’ve passed for it if you had your eyes closed.

Probably a gazillion thread count.

But the best thing in the world was the comforter.

“Ughhh.” I pulled it up high over my head, leaving only my nose and eyes out. “This is nice.”

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