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On our last day of the trek to Montana, Alex pulled me aside and asked if he could ride up front today with Patrick. I tried to explain to him that he wasn’t allowed to because of his age, but Patrick must have overheard because he told me, “The Montana border is only an hour away. They don’t have a law regarding children in the front seat, so if Alex can wait until then, he should be fine to ride up front with me.” When he saw the excited look on Alex’s face, he turned to him, “But that’s only if it’s okay with your mom.”
“Please, Mommy!” he begged. Since Alex has never begged for anything, I knew this was very important to him. I asked Patrick to give my son and me a moment in private, which he granted.
He stepped far enough away he couldn’t hear us but close enough to jump in at the first sign of danger.
I bent down and whispered to Alex, “It’s okay with me if you sit up front, but if you do this, you have to keep your promise, okay?”
He whispered back, “I promise. Scouts honor.” He held up his three fingers.
Chuckling, I reminded him, “Alex, you have never been a Boy Scout.”
“I know, but Kiernan taught it to me and says there’s symbology in the gesture. What’s symbology?”
“It’s when an object or sign represents an idea or something else. In this case, the Scout sign represents a solemn oath. But always remember that your words are your oath, regardless of the gesture. Now get in the truck, Goofball.”
He ran over to Patrick, bouncing excitedly, “Now we can have guy time! Whoopie!” Patrick grinned and then helped him get situated in the back seat. After that, he opened the front door for me and hoisted me into the truck. I’ve never been considered short, but I’m not tall, either. At 5'7", the top of my head comes just below Patrick’s chin. Unfortunately, the truck is big, and it took effort for me to climb in.
I looked down at his hands that were still on my waist as my feet dangled off the seat, relishing the feel of them as he held me in place. When he noticed where I was looking, he quickly removed them as though he had been burned. He mumbled an apology before closing the door and heading toward the driver’s side.
Once we hit the Montana border and I swapped seats with Alex, the “men” engaged in a deep, philosophical discussion. I kept my mouth shut as I listened in. It was a serious conversation between the two of them, with very important questions getting asked and answered.
“Who is your favorite superhero?” Alex asked.
“That’s a pretty tough question to answer before my first cup of coffee. How about we drive through the coffee shop and grab a bite to eat first,” Patrick informs him.
“Mom says I’m too young for coffee, and it will stunt my growth. She told me I already had enough energy to power Cothena and didn’t need any more. Once, she threatened to hook me up to a bicycle to test out her theory,” he said deadpan. Patrick barked out a laugh.
“I was the same way growing up,” Patrick told him. Alex grinned widely and nodded approvingly.
“You know, they make a delicious hot chocolate. How about one of those instead?”
Alex looked back at me, silently asking for permission. “Hot chocolate sounds wonderful. I’ll take one too, only with three shots of espresso in mine, please,” I teased.
Patrick ordered our coffees—his black with no frou-frou—along with three orders of egg white bites for him, a breakfast sandwich for me, and a blueberry muffin for Alex.
“Okay, now that you’ve had your coffee, who’s your favorite superhero?” Alex asked without missing a beat.
“That depends. Are we talking about my favorite in the Marvel comics or in the DC Universe?”
Alex pondered his question before answering with, “Both.”
“Hmm. I’m partial to Captain America in the Marvel comics, but Spider-Man with DC. What about you?”
Alex didn’t answer right away, instead asking another question. “Why are they your favorite? Spider-Man only has his webs, and Captain America has a shield and strength. They can’t fly and don’t have any real superpowers.”
“You don’t need superpowers to be a hero, Alex. You simply have to have the desire to do the right thing even when it’s not an easy choice. They’re my favorite because they were both ordinary people who got to do extraordinary things. They have integrity and virtue.”
“Just like Superman! He’s my favorite, and my mom’s too.” Patrick’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, and I saw the side of one eye crinkle because of his smirk. “He can fly, shoot laser beams from his eyes, and even turn back time!”
As their conversation continued, I couldn’t help but wish that I had the power to turn back time.
If I could, I never would have left Patrick’s side.
After three days of driving, we’re finally pulling into the long driveway that leads to the ranch where we will be staying for the foreseeable future. The area is gorgeous, surrounded by snow-capped mountains off in the distance and white-covered hills nearby. Alex bounces in his seat, going on and on about how he wants to build a snowman.
“It’s going to get dark soon, Alex, and we need to get settled in first. Not to mention, it would be rude if we didn’t greet our hosts first. How about we build a snowman first thing in the morning after breakfast?” I suggest.
“Okay,” he says, mildly dejected. After such a long trip, I know he wants to run around and play.
