“Let me help, okay?” I say. “Law has practice anyway, and Carlie’s stuck in Houston. I have nothing else to do.”
“Miss Ivy,” Scarlett cries, spinning toward me. Chad puts ahand to his temple at her loud voice. Thanks for proving my point, sweetie. “Are you going to come to the lights with us?” she asks, and she starts bouncing on her toes.
Chad clenches his fists. “If you’re sure, Ivy.”
“Yes! Yes! Come with us, Miss Ivy!” the girls cry.
Chad draws in a sharp breath, then stands quickly. He pulls a set of keys and a hotel card from his pocket and shoves them at me. “I’ll Venmo you the ticket money,” he says in a tight voice. “Rental car is in the parking garage.” He kisses the girls on the cheek and then walks away, making a beeline for the elevator.
I look at Law and then at the girls. “Okay, can you ladies help me check into my hotel room and then we’ll go see lights?”
They both shout their acquiescence, and I grin. This beats another night by myself watching TV.
CHAPTER 2
CHAD
Even though a headache is splitting my head apart, it’s a relief to be lying on my bed in the pitch-black hotel room in silence.
I love my girls, but this is the first vacation we’ve taken in almost a year. They’re over the moon about it. But the excitement was not helping things.
I haven’t had a migraine this bad since before Shelby left, which is surprising, considering how much stress that caused. So I didn’t bring my migraine medicine with me to Denver.
I don’t know if I could have taken it even if it was here.
This is going to sound crazy, but despite the excruciating pain I’m in, I haven’t taken any kind of medication for the headache.
As someone who’s around medical professionals all the time, I know in theory that I can’t become addicted to ibuprofen, or my migraine medicine, for that matter.
As someone who watched an amazing woman spiral and throw away her entire life for a small pill—it doesn’t seem to matter.
I adjust the cold washcloth on my forehead and pray for some relief.
The sane man inside of me says I should text my friend, Dane, who could get me a prescription for my migraine medicine that I could pick up here in Denver. That side of me argues that I owe it to the girls to make sure the few days I’ve taken off to spend with them at Christmas are magical.
It would also help Scarlett’s worries this weekend if I wasn’t sick for another few days. The child psychologist I’m taking her to is helping us all cope better with Shelby leaving and her addiction, but Scarlett is too young to tell the difference between an addict and someone with the flu.
Or an intense migraine.
I fumble on the nightstand for where I left my phone, resolving to send Dane a text, but even just the screen lighting up as my fingers run across it makes a sharp pain shoot through my forehead. I groan, flipping the phone over. I lie back on the pillow and try to relax, taking deep breaths.
If I could just fall asleep.
Using my phone’s voice controls, I turn on a sleep podcast that tells soothing stories. Maybe it will keep my brain from racing and I can focus on something other than the throbbing.
It’s like my skull is coming apart, but I force myself to breathe deeply and relax.
It must work eventually, because I blink my eyes open at the sound of the door to my room shutting softly. Ivy must be back with the girls.
I tense and wait for them to run into the bedroom and pounce. Even though we’re only here for a few days, I splurged on a suite so the girls would have more space, especially on Christmas morning. The room remains silent.
“Ivy?” I say in a low voice. Maybe the girls fell asleep on the ride home. Given their excitement level since we got here, that’s hard to believe. I glance at the clock, removing the T-shirt I flung over it to dim the light, and see that it’s after midnight.
“Hey,” a voice whispers. The room is mostly black, but thelight from the clock illuminates it enough for me to see a figure standing in the doorway of my bedroom. It’s too small to be Law, and Ivy is the one with my room key, so it must be her. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up,” she says quietly. “I just wanted to check on you. You were asleep when we got back earlier.” I’ve heard a lot of stories about Ivy from Law, and the way she takes care of people is always evident.
“Where are the girls?” She probably put them to sleep hours ago in the other bedroom. I’m shocked I didn’t hear her. Given that I’m on call all the time, I’m typically a light sleeper.
“I put them to bed in my room. They’re asleep now. Across the hall.” Ivy keeps her voice low and gentle. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. How are you feeling?”
