Chapter 5
Violet
“How much further?”
I glanced over at Damon, fighting exhaustion.
At least I could still smile. Instead of discovering him buried in some software application or level thirty-two of the strategic video game that he so adored, he’d been amusing himself with his favorite Matchbox car, currently ‘driving’ it back and forth across the dashboard.
The little red sports car had been his favorite since I could remember, carrying it with him almost everywhere he went.
Maybe he realized I was watching him, which my kid hated since I was his mother, and shoved the car into his jeans pocket.
I could swear my child was almost eight going on eighteen.
While we’d stopped for the night, I’d been restless, tossing and turning as I toiled with how best to get the project moving. I’d debated making contact with the captain of the Missoula Smoke-jumping team prior to leaving for Montana but had thought better of it.
What would I do if I was turned down? Contacting him over the phone was much easier than in person, but also made it easier for him to say no.
For some reason, I was a little apprehensive about returning to Missoula, even though I knew everything had likely changed.
Plus, my memories had been centered around the water and the mountains.
The huge mountain range was all around, the peaks literally touching the sky.
There was a clear benefit to being unable to sleep. We’d left before dawn to try to beat traffic, my son snoozing for the first couple of hours. Now he was wide awake and not a happy camper.
Neither was I, although we’d made excellent time, arriving before noon.
Thank God, my old Jeep Cherokee had made the trip without incident.
Other than needing to fill the radiator a couple of times.
Since I didn’t drive much in LA, I hadn’t worried about upgrading or overhauling the old girl.
If the calendar was the success I thought it would be, maybe I’d gift myself a newer vehicle later this year.
My little man was antsy, which I couldn’t blame him for being. I’d chosen to drive the twenty-two hours instead of flying and renting a car mostly because of the number of things I’d brought with us.
Including photographic equipment, my laptop and printer, my favorite Keurig machine—a gift from my best friend—and a bag full of books to read. What else was a girl supposed to do in her off time living in the boonies?
I’d also shoved in all the sports equipment purchased or gifted to my little man, most with low mileage. It wasn’t that my kid wasn’t good at sports. Or was he? I honestly had no idea since he’d never taken much interest in them and I hadn’t pushed. Not with my schedule.
That capped it. I was a terrible mother. But I’d made a promise to be better.
“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.
I remained where I was for a few seconds, trying to keep tears from giving away my disappointment. At least there was a lock box on the door as I’d been told. Plus, nothing looked rotten on the exterior, just well used.
Very well used.
How bad could it be inside?
We were here and we were going to make the best of it. At least I didn’t need to avoid Kenny’s phone calls while here. That was a plus.
With a little more pep to my step than I felt, I headed up the stairs onto the porch. There was a swing. That was nice. Even though it looked a little dangerous. But I could work around that.
“It’s ugly,” Damon insisted.
“Nothing a few pots of flowers won’t cure.”
“We won’t be here that long. Thank God.”
Great. This wasn’t going well at all. The code worked so I allowed myself a mental cheer. As soon as I opened the door, we were hit with the stench of Clorox bleach. That wasn’t a good sign, but it could be worse.
He tipped his little head before we even walked in, wrinkling his nose.
“We’ll buy some air fresheners.” While I’d been told we’d have everything including bedding and fresh towels, I was now very glad I’d insisted on bringing our own. “Okay, mister. Let’s see what we got.”
With a heavy sigh, he ran in first, standing smack in the middle of the living room with a scowl on his face.
Finally, he sauntered away as if I’d just sentenced him to long term in a boarding facility.
While the place was even more of a dump inside, there was a spectacular view of the mountains behind us.
I closed the door, immediately pulling out my phone, pulling up the pictures I’d been sent.
Maybe the place had looked that way ten years ago but not any longer. At least there was evidence of fresh paint, but I was worried about what the owner had covered up from the recent tenants.
Nope. I wasn’t going down that road.
There was a stone fireplace. Nice. And the couch and chair appeared new. Fantastic. I even tried the two lamps in the room to find them working. Okay. We could work with this.
The kitchen was… bleak, but with every cabinet I opened, I was pleased to see pots, pans, and plates. The glasses were mismatched, but at least I wouldn’t need to spend money on purchasing anything. Thank God, I’d brought my coffee machine.
I heard little feet running through the halls and was still hopeful he’d find the house acceptable. When he went to the back door, figuring out how to unlock it, I was still hopeful. Until he groaned.
“What is it?”
“Trees. Lots of trees.”
With a light chuckle, I joined him on the back deck. “You can make forts with all the fallen limbs.” It appeared the owner hadn’t bothered cleaning up the yard after recent storms. Or any for several years before that.
Or centuries.
“We’ll hire someone to clean up the yard.” With what money?
My little man just looked at me as if I was kidding him. His face twisted in disappointment before he spun around and stomped back inside.
I was already at my wits’ end for so many reasons that I remained on the deck, moving closer to the edge and gripping the railing.
Brenda had been so thrilled to find me a nice place to stay that I couldn’t tell her it was horrible.
That wouldn’t be fair. Nothing that a little hard work and elbow grease couldn’t handle. I was a tough girl.