Page 99 of Ask Your Mom If I'm Real

“Yes.” She smiled. “Bear?”

I walked over to where the bear now sat on the kitchen table and picked it up, handing it to her.

She laid her head down on my shoulder and tucked the bear up high under her chin and mine.

I walked over to the chair and contemplated just sitting her down, but decided that she might go to sleep better against my chest.

I was right.

Pulling the blanket off the chair and wrapping it around Anleigh, I took the seat, propped up my feet, and rubbed her back.

Her body went limp in five minutes, her soft snores pressed up against my neck.

I stayed there for another ten to make sure she was truly asleep—I’d learned that lesson the hard way from my nieces—and only put her down onto the chair by herself when I knew for sure she wouldn’t wake.

Once I’d disentangled myself from the little girl’s clutching grasp, I made sure she was nice and warm with the blanket, then headed outside onto the balcony.

Once out there, I shivered.

The air felt outrageously cold.

I’d been all over the world and experienced all kinds of weather.

But there was just something about the South when it snowed.

Almost like it wasn’t supposed to happen, and the extreme weather only amplified the oddity.

Pulling out my phone, I went about calling my family to make sure they were all right.

I’d felt my phone vibrate multiple times with texts, but I wasn’t much of a texter.

I liked to hear the voices of the people so I could tell the temperature, so to speak.

Text messages were so impersonal.

“Hello?” my grams answered, sounding chipper.

“Grams,” I said. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great.” She sounded excited. “How’s your houseguest?”

I glanced over my shoulder at the two sleeping girls.

“One’s asleep in my bed, and the other’s asleep in the chair next to the Christmas tree,” I said. “Anleigh’s running a fever, though. I haven’t put her down since she got in the door.”

“Oh.” She sounded sad. “That’s awful.”

“How’s it lookin’ over at the asshole’s house?” I asked.

“The window is still open, and I’ve watched it snow into that window for the last four hours.” She giggled. “Guy’s passed out in his recliner.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m going to call the rest. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Take care of those girls.”

“I will,” I promised and hung up.

Noel, Ginger, then Christopher were my next calls.

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