Then I slept.
For nine uninterrupted hours.
Saturday morning, Lily built a waffle tower at breakfast.
Noah poured enough syrup onto his plate to concern three nearby adulTS.
And I made another decision.
We weren’t driving back to North Carolina.
Not yet.
I searched for something fun nearby and found a family resort with an indoor water park about an hour away.
Two nights were available.
I booked them.
When I told the kids, Lily screamed with happiness.
Noah actually hugged me.
And while they raced upstairs to change, I checked my phone.
Four missed calls.
Mom.
Two from Amanda.
One from Uncle Robert.
I put the phone away.
By noon, there were eleven.
At 2:15, twenty-three.
At 5:40, thirty-eight.
That was when Amanda’s husband texted.
“Claire, call your mother.
Apparently there’s some confusion with the lodge.”
