"Hey." She laughed. "I've done lots of things you couldn't even imagine."
Her sons were typical boys. They found trouble and actively searched for daring things to do. Anytime they rebuilt a bicycle or rode their skateboard over a piece of plywood, they believed they were the first child to accomplish the task.
They hadn't known the younger, more daring Bonnie Colleen Durham-Murphy, who shaved half her hair when she was thirteen years old, pierced her belly button at fourteen, and ended up pregnant at fifteen years old. The other things she'd done would die with her and never see the light of day. She hoped her boys never knew how little she regarded life when she was their age.
She was the only role model they had. Whatever they learned, she wanted them to know hard work, positivity, and determination would get them far in life.
But she also wanted them to know it was okay to crank the radio and dance around the house while eating ice cream out of the carton. Everyone needed to find ways to cope with whatever life threw at them.
"I see a house," blurted Kenny.
She raised her gaze off the road. The olive-green-colored house, looking more camouflaged with the peeling paint from years of neglect and harsh winters, filled her vision.
"Oh, my God. Finally." She shot both boys a smile. "No more RV living for us. We can settle in, enjoy the summer, and...move on with our lives."
She rolled to a stop in front of the house. It wasn't that much to look at. Only three bedrooms, and from memory, she knew the living space was small. The house was nothing like the more modern space they were used to in Boise. But she could make this work.
It had to work.
"Do we really have to stay here?" whispered Kenny.
She inhaled deeply and nodded. Multiple times over the last week, Kenny had asked her to go back to Boise. Each time, she tried to boost confidence in her ability to take care of the situation. That her kids would be better off here.
They all needed a change.
She needed a change.
"Come on." She swallowed and looked at both boys. "Let's go check out the house."
She opened the car door, relieved when Zach and Kenny exited without any argument.
Halfway across the yard, she looked back at the path she'd taken. The grass wasn't high and full of weeds the way she'd expected a vacant house in the woods, neglected for almost eighteen years, to appear.
Recently, someone had cut the grass. Not wanting the boys to pick up on her hesitation, she marched forward and stood in front of the door.
There were many reasons why the grass would be short. Spring came late to the mountains. Only a quick couple of weeks ago, there was probably snow covering every inch of acreage. There were also grazing animals living in the area. A herd of elk or deer could eat everything green around the house within hours.
Kenny tried the locked doorknob. "How are we going to get in?"
She reached into her purse, unzipped the side compartment, and extracted the 'Avery Falls, Idaho' rubber keychain Grandpa Gene had given her on her twelfth birthday when he'd announced that someday the house and land would belong to her.
At the time, such a big gift hadn't made an impression on her. She thought Grandpa Gene would live forever, and there was no such thing as death. She hadn't the heart to tell him she wanted one of those new mountain bikes that'd become popular instead of a house.
Snapping out of her past, she stuck the key in the door and prayed it would work. The satisfying click vibrated up her arm, and she let out the breath she held.
Zach and Kenny bounded in ahead of her and stopped in the middle of the living room. Swept back in memories, expecting to smell the aroma of Grandpa Gene's coffee, it took her several seconds to realize what she was seeing.
There were beer cans on every available surface. Several jeans covered the corner of a sofa. A sofa she had never seen before.
She turned and went into the kitchen, seeking out the changes. A wooden table sat under the window with dirty dishes scattered on top. She widened her eyes. A poster of a naked woman sprawled out over a black motorcycle hung on the front of the refrigerator.
"Uh, mom?" Zach touched her arm. "There's shit in the bedrooms."
"Stuff, Zach. Not shit." She hurried back into the living room and down the hallway.
Inside the first bedroom, she found more clothes, magazines, dirty dishes. Stumbling on a black leather boot on the floor, she searched the rest of the house.
People were living here. In Grandpa Gene's house. In her house.
Her anxiety grew. When she'd decided to bring the boys here, finding someone else living in the house was never a part of the equation.
All she was prepared for was minor plumping repair from non-use and repair a broken window or two from years of neglect.
"What are we going to do?" Zach kicked at a magazine on the floor. The pages turned to the centerfold.
Ever the mom, she grabbed Zach's arm and turned him away from the room, taking him into the hallway.
"Well, as soon as I tell whoever is living here that I'm the owner, they'll leave." Her heart raced, not liking confrontations. "I have proof of the house belonging to me."
"Can't we get the cops to come and kick them out?" Kenny picked up a chain.
"Put that down." She paced in the living room, having no idea how to go about telling people—strangers, they needed to leave immediately.
"The cops won't do anything, stupid." Zach opened the front door. "I don't think we should be inside when whoever lives here decides to come home."
She grabbed on to Zach's suggestion. "You're right. We'll wait in the car."
Thankful for the boys doing what she wanted for
