Chapter 5-1
664 Words
Chapter 5
The drive to the cabin was tense, to say the least. Remy couldn’t understand what had gotten into his son. Before Braden had headed upstairs to pack, he’d been a little anxious about Lane, Remy knew. But a little anxious and outwardly hostile were worlds apart. It wasn’t Kate’s doing, Remy was sure—when she had taken their son upstairs to pack properly, Braden came down subdued and moody. Which meant she must’ve said something to him about the way he was behaving.
Braden was a good boy, most of the time. A lot like his father in that he liked to plan things out in advance, liked to know what was going to happen when, and if something changed, he was bound to be put out by it. But at eight, he had little control over what he had to do or where he had to go. He’d grow out of it eventually, Remy was sure.
Or he’ll go into urban planning, like me, he thought, rueful, as he watched the Jeep’s headlights illuminate the flat stretch of highway ahead. Because Remy had never really grown out of it, had he? Maybe Braden was picking up on Remy’s own displeasure at having to change his holiday plans. Nothing like a child to spoil a romantic getaway. Wasn’t that why Kate pawned Braden off on Remy in the first place?
That isn’t fair, he told himself, and he knew it. Kate had as much right to a time out from parenthood as Remy did; even more, because she was a mother full-time and Remy played daddy on weekends. Every other weekend, at that. This will be a good experience for us, he thought. He hoped. For all of us.
If only Braden would lose the ‘tude.
When they had been getting ready to leave Kate’s, Remy had handed Lane the car keys. “If I drive, he’ll want to sit up front,” Remy explained. “I don’t want to cause another scene. If you drive, I’ll ride shotgun, and he’ll be okay with the middle seat.”
Or so Remy thought. But when he held open the back door for his son, Braden balked. “I want to sit up front with you,” he said with a pout.
“I’m not driving,” Remy told him. Thank you, Jesus, for letting me off so easily.
Only Braden wasn’t ready to be as lenient. “I don’t want to sit in the middle,” he complained.
Remy tossed Braden’s bags across the seat, followed by his pillow. “See?” he told his son. “Nice and cozy. You have the whole stretch to yourself. If you get sleepy, you can just lay back—”
“I’m not sleepy, I’m hungry.” Braden’s voice went up a notch, finding just the right octave to grate on Remy’s nerves. “Mom said we’d stop for dinner.”
“We will,” Remy assured him, trying to stay calm. Lane had already helped Kate load the leftover Christmas decorations into the back of the Jeep and now sat behind the steering wheel, waiting. Remy saw his lover glance back and rolled his eyes for Lane’s benefit. “Come on, kid. Get in the car and we’ll stop for a bite to eat along the way. The longer you stand there throwing a fit, the later it’ll be before we eat.”
Finally Braden climbed into the middle seat, grumbling as he did. “I want McDonald’s.”
There goes our quiet dinner alone. Remy had hoped to stop at a small restaurant he’d found on one of his trips to the southwestern part of the state, but there was another change in plans he hadn’t anticipated. Knowing Braden, Remy wouldn’t be able to talk him out of a Big Mac with fries, and anywhere else they ate would pale in comparison to Mickey D’s. Which meant more pouting, and more fighting.
Now I know why some people dread dealing with their families over the holidays. Out loud, though, he simply said, “We’ll see.”
At least Braden was inside the car. Remy closed the door and turned to make a face at Kate and Mike, who were standing on the steps. “Thanks,” he said, sarcastic.
“Enjoy your cabin adventure!” Kate called out.
Before sliding into the passenger seat, Remy countered, “Hope your boat don’t sink.”
“Remy!” Lane had chastised, but Kate laughed. And flipped him off. So technically, she got in the last jab.
- Writer
