Page 22 of Steel

“Not long now. Look at the GPS,” I told him, eager to land at the house Brenda had rented for us. How she’d managed to find a furnished cabin near the base of some famous mountain range was beyond me, but I was thankful she’d located something decent.

He did, but immediately thumped back into his seat, his glare toward the passenger window like laser beams.

“Are you excited?” I tossed out. On hour number nine, I’d given into him and his request to sit in the front seat. He’d even recited the California law that I’d followed and told me only a couple of backward states required kids to be secured in a booster seat until they were eight.

I’d also been reminded that he’d have his eighth birthday while we were here.

Which didn’t seem to make him happy.

“Dunno.” His shrug and the guttural sound were more than I’d gotten when I’d asked before.

We were making progress.

I concentrated on the view, realizing just how different Montana was from Los Angeles. Cleaner. Brighter. Safer. All viable reasons why so many people were moving out of big cities. Not a bad idea except I wouldn’t be employed if I did.

With another quick glance at the GPS, I was personally excited to see our turn onto the road for the rental house was only a mile away.

I’d panicked the few couple of days after agreeing to make the trip, but my gut was telling me I’d made the right decision. Only time would tell.

“We’re almost there, little man.” I grabbed the watered-down drink from stopping at Mickey D’s earlier while saying a silent little prayer he’d find himself as the therapist had suggested was possible.

“Mom. Are you suffering from early onset dementia?”

He’d waited until I’d sucked liquid through the straw. Coughing, I spit out the entire mouthful all over the dash. “What?”

For the first time in as long as I could remember, he fell into a fit of giggles. Hysterical laughter.

“You little… monster!” I groaned, frantically searching for the bag of napkins. Of course they’d disappeared. “Why would you ask that?” It was so good to hear him laugh.

“Because on one hand you treat me like a baby then call me a little man. I was just wondering if you couldn’t remember.”

That was my kid. “You know what? You should grow up to be a psychiatrist.”

“And deal with wackazoids? I don’t think so.”

He’d definitely gotten his bluntness from me. Although I had no idea what attributes he’d gotten from his father other than his deep blue eyes.

“Okay then. Well, you can be anyone you want to be when you grow up. Except an arsonist.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. You’re still in trouble.”

I was allowed to see another full roll of his eyes just as I made the turn. The gravel road was tree lined. Okay. When I passed one house, I was pleasantly surprised and hopeful. If our little cabin looked like that then I’d be a happy girl.

Damon was impressed enough that he was sitting on the edge of his seat, barely managing to look over the edge of the dashboard.

When I noticed a mailbox, I slowed down and checked the address. “This is it.” I know I was holding my breath. When we cleared the clump of trees, I kept my smile, but my heart sank.

I wouldn’t call the house a dump exactly, but it could certainly use a little TLC.

As soon as I pulled the SUV up to the front, I couldn’t admit that my first thought was turning around and going back home. At this point admitting defeat wasn’t possible. That also wasn’t the kind of woman I’d turned myself into. After all the hard work, I wasn’t going to let a little disappointment keep me from achieving my dream.

Even if it felt a little bit like a nightmare.

“This is it?” Damon asked.

“This is it.” My answer had way too much fake excitement. My son knew it too. “Come on. Let’s look around.” He didn’t wait for me, jumping out before I could shove the gear into park.