Page 20 of Serving my Dragon
“You told me she’d mentioned she’d be feverish. Just keep her close by.”
“To do what?” I was no expert.
“To let her know you’re there. Polly trusts you.”
And I’d gotten oddly attached in such a short time, and not just to the lizard who claimed to be a dragon. I glanced at Kayleigh. “So, Sally sent another email.”
“Did she look at the picture?”
“Nope. She claims we’re obviously scamming her since you’re with her.”
Kayleigh blinked. “She said what?”
“Are you sure you’re actually Kayleigh Carmichael? Could it be your amnesia has you using someone else’s name?”
Her lips pursed. “I want to say no, but I don’t know how to be sure. If I’m not Kayleigh then who am I?”
She seemed so dejected. There had to be a way to confirm whether or not she was Kayleigh or someone else. An idea hit me. “You have social media accounts, right?”
“Yes, but without my phone I can’t log into any of them.”
“No, but we can look them up and check out the profile pics. Which app do you use the most?” I asked, sliding my laptop close enough I could tap the keys on it without disturbing Polly.
“Instagram, mostly. I follow a bunch of restaurants and cooks.” Her cheek dimpled. “I like to challenge myself by recreating some of their dishes.”
“Given how much you like cooking, I’m surprised you went into teaching,” I said as I went through the steps of setting up an account because apparently, I couldn’t just search for someone without being registered.
“I thought about becoming a chef but Mom pointed out the food industry is one of the toughest. And she had a point. Glad I listened. So many places shut down during the pandemic. Teaching is a tad more insulated in that respect. Not to mention, I’m not sure I should make a hobby I enjoy a full-time job.”
“Mama thought about opening a restaurant, but when Papa died, she worried for the same reason you did. Stability. Sewing brings in a steady revenue and, as she told me, allowed her to be home with me instead of working late hours elsewhere.”
“Your mom is awesome.” Kayleigh declared. “So patient, teaching me how to make those tamales. And you should have seen her memorizing my pie recipe.”
The comment startled. “Mama asked you to show her how to make pie?”
“Yes. She said my crust was flaky perfection, and the combination of fruits with little sugar added impressive. If I could have framed the praise I would have because I know she’s not one to exaggerate.”
No, Mama wasn’t. I’d not actually tasted the pie out of fear Mama would freak. I’d stuck to her dessert of picarones, a donut-like treat.
“Okay, I’m on Instagram. How do I find you?” I asked.
“You could try using my name or typing my handle in directly. It’s Kayleighcooksyummies.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Cute.”
“Blame my mother. She was the one who set it up for me. I didn’t even know about the account until Sally asked why I didn’t save some of my Black Forest cake for her. Apparently, Mom was posting pics of the stuff I made.”
“Found your page.” And one thing became clear, the Kayleigh Carmichael in the profile picture was the person sitting in my living room. Same blonde hair and bright smile.
Kayleigh moved from the chair to the couch right beside me and leaned close. “Well, at least I remembered my name correctly. What’s the most recent post?”
“Looks like one from today.” I clicked on the thumbnail and there was Kayleigh, standing outside Páprika, a restaurant I knew of but had never eaten at. She stood beside a petite redhead. “Who’s that?”
“Sally, my best friend,” Kayleigh murmured.
The next image was again of the pair, this time posing in the canyon. Then another of them in a hotel room, grinning as they sipped a colorful cocktail. A different image posted for each of the last five days. Impossible, since we’d been together for the last two.
“Someone’s hacked my account and is posting fake pics of me!” she exclaimed.
