Page 5 of The Treasure House

“Oh my God, mop it up,” I begged, scrambling for the dish cloth. “Don’t just let it drip everywhere.”

“Are you telling me we’re getting a house with a pool?” Her eyes widened.

“No.” I gently nudged her out of the way and swiped at the milk before it cascaded over the edge of the counter. “Look at all the milk you’ve wasted. And it wasn’t a pool, it was a pit.”

“A proto-pool!”

A proto-pool. Who even was this kid? “Where did you learn the word proto?”

She shrugged. “From a book?” She pulled the stool back up to the now-damp counter. “Tell me about this house. It better be close by because I’m not changing schools.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. My late-night dreams started to crack in the light of day. I had worked to keep Flo’s life steady and predictable. It hadn’t been easy staying in the same school district as rents went up. We’d moved twice already in Flo’s short life, both times downgrading to be able to stay in Squirrel Hill South. I knew I couldn’t keep it up. The new rent increase meant our next downsize would have to be to a studio. That was a soul-crushing thought. Flo would be a teen soon and no teen wanted to still be sharing a room with their mom.

No mom wanted to share a room with a teen either…

“I can’t afford anything close by,” I admitted to her. “And you have to move schools for high school soon anyway…”

“Mom. I’m eleven. I only just started middle school.”

“Nearly twelve.” I heard the phantom longing of Mrs. Bracknell’s cello. “High school’s not far off.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s forever away.”

But it wasn’t. Those short years would slip by, like all the rest. My twenties had flown, along with Flo’s childhood, and I was beginning to realize that no one was coming to rescue me. In another ten years I might still be sitting in this cramped kitchenette, or an even smaller one, if I didn’t do something about it.

“The next move needs to be our long-term move,” I told my kid, feeling a sense of resolve. Late Night Zoe had been right. We had an opportunity to be more than this. “We’ll go somewhere that has good schools.”

Flo eyed me. “I like my school.”

“You’ll like the next one.” I hoped that wasn’t a lie. I thrust my phone in front of her. “Help me pick a house?”

“Oh my God. You’re serious?”

I nodded, waving the phone at her. “What about this one?”

“It’s awful.”

“You didn’t even look.”

“Where is it?”

I checked. “North Dakota.”

“Definitely not.”

“What have you got against North Dakota?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I’m not living anywhere that can’t decide on a name.” Flo crossed her arms over her chest.

“North Dakota is a name.”

“It’s not. It’s cheating off South Dakota.”

“Fine, no Dakotas.”

“Find somewhere here in Squirrel Hill,” Flo ordered, leaning over to look at my screen.

I snorted. “We can’t afford to buy a mailbox here, let alone a house.”