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Oh, wait.I’d read something about kids and water.How some kids didn’t mind being in the water, but once they were out, they couldn’t tolerate it on their face.In that light, drying their hair made sense.I might’ve preferred they use a towel instead of my T-shirt, but something swelled inside me at the trust they placed in me.

At least we have an hour before bedtime.Hopefully their hair will be dry by then…Truthfully, I had no idea how long something such as a wet child took to dry their hair.

Hell, I didn’t even know how long it took a wet dog?—

A splash followed by a distinctive yelp had me gently pushing Raphael aside and crawling on hands and knees across the wet tiles of the bathroom.

Oh God.Oh God.Oh God.Please don’t drown.I don’t know doggie CPR.How do I not know doggie CPR?Oh God?—

As I looked over the side of the tub, a very adorable face gazed back up at me.

A very wet face.

Now, as the panic receded, I reminded myself I’d only given Raphael about eight inches of water to work with.Less likely to be able to drown.I also hadn’t thought anything of the little stepstool.Now, as I thought about it, I wondered if Thaddeus used it.

“Oh my God, dog.”

He chose that moment to shake out.

Water sprayed everywhere.

Everywhere.

Even up my nose.

I cough spewed.

“Do you need a towel?”

Raphael stood next to me, now almost as wet as I was.

I hoped that wouldn’t trigger them.God save me.“Uh, yes…does your mom have old towels?”

Twenty minutes later, Raphael, Wally, and I sat in front of the gas fireplace.The a/c blasted, but the heat from the fire was drying us off faster.

I apologized to the climate change people who’d have a fit if they saw us.

Well, I don’t drive or eat much meat and hate running the a/c, so I normally do my part.

Thaddeus, quite unamused by the band of soaked beings, declared he’d had enough and was going to bed.True to his word, he got undressed, put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth, hopped into bed, and was out like a light before I even turned his lamp off.

In my heart, I knew Raphael wouldn’t be so easily convinced to go to bed.

Given they were still wet, I figured drying off was a better idea anyway.They had stuck their legs under the massive T-shirt, perhaps explaining why the thing was so stretched.

Is he doing this because the pressure reassures?

I just didn’t know.

Marcie still hadn’t texted.

Jeremy still hadn’t called.

I worried for both of them.

What if their mom was really sick?What if she died?

What if Jeremy fell asleep behind the wheel and crashed on his way back to Gaynor Beach?