Seven apartments in just as many years. Selina Sardi was goddamn tired.

Every time they had stuffed their belongings in giveaway gym bags and cardboard boxes, she had told her five-year-old, Lowie, that the new place they were moving into was going to be different, that it was going to be better somehow, that they would turn it into a real home, but this time was unlike the others.

This time, it might be true.

With that spark of hope, a sense of pride blossomed in Selina's chest. She took a moment to admire her name tag on the solid, green letterbox and the cheerful curtains she had put up a week earlier. She had chosen the fabric and commissioned the seamstress of her choice with her own money. For the first time in her life, Selina had picked out her own curtains.

She wasn't going to share the high, narrow row house in the quiet suburb of Bruges with anyone but Lowie.

No relatives would poke their nose where it didn't belong, no roommates would disturb Lowie's sleep, no landlord would try to put his hands on her or threaten to evict them. She would have nobody to answer to but herself.

It was her house, the result of hard labor and relentless cutting back on all things nice, and it would all be worth it.

Meanwhile, Lowie sucked a lime lollipop till his cheeks stuck, upheld the vacuum for a few seconds, then popped the thing out to inspect the color of his tongue with his eyes crossed. Selina ignored how dirt and sweat fused his other hand with hers and squeezed it gently. "Are you ready?"

"This place stinks." With a scrunched nose, Lowie looked up and down the one-lane street.

It was a pretty neighborhood. The tall brick houses were well kept, as were their tiny square front yards, some brimming with colorful geraniums, others an organized patchwork of rock and gravel. One could tell the inhabitants took pride in their homes, a realization that filled Selina with a fuzzy warmth.

Tonight, however, several neighbors had already put their garbage out in anticipation of tomorrow's collection, that would come around early in the morning as was custom on hot summer days like these. Meanwhile the evening stretched out in a sultry, orange blaze and the last rays of sunshine worked hard to decompose the waste.

She sighed, wishing she had introduced her wary son to this house any other day, but no use crying over spilled milk. They were here now and this was a happy occasion.

"Wait till we get inside. You'll love it. You'll see." The door lock jammed, much like the emotion building in the back of her throat. Lowie had to like this house. He had to.

She wiggled the door back and forth till it finally gave way into the dark hallway with a dragged, creaking sound.

"It's tiny." Lowie peeked inside, still unwilling to step over the threshold. "This must be the smallest house in all of Bruges."

If that were true, tourists from all over the world would be flocking up the street and Selina wouldn't have been able to afford it, but true, it was an extremely narrow house, the narrowest in this street.

She bit her lip, fighting the desperation rising from her belly. She wanted Lowie to feel at home here. She needed him to feel at home here. Even though it had been the bargain of a lifetime, it had taken her double shifts and plenty of extreme couponing for the past seven years.

She reminded herself that Lowie didn't object to the house as much as to the idea of moving into a new place and not knowing what to expect. She understood his reluctance to believe that this would be the perfect home for them. Getting your hopes up high is like volunteering to be a crash test dummy, and after crashing a few times you can't afford to be that dumb again.

She pulled his hand to her tummy and squeezed one more time. "Your bedroom is the best room in the house. It sits at the top of everything." She gestured up the stairs with a dramatic swirl of her hand.

"My own room?" From under his floppy curls, a set of pretty hazel eyes scrutinized her. "I'm getting my own room?"

She nodded. "Wanna go see?"

"At the top of everything is the tower chamber," he said thoughtfully, "So ... I'd be like Rapunzel?"

"If you want." She smiled, knowing that Lowie slipping into fairytale language meant he was considering giving this a go. She ran her hand through his golden hair. "If I braid your hair, you'd make a pretty Rapunzel."

"I think so too," he said, pressing the sticky lollipop in her hand so he could use every one of his limbs to clatter up the staircase. "Or a dragon. I hope there's dragons."

"Gee, I hope not." She rolled her eyes, dropped her bag at the foot of the staircase, and clicked the door in its lock behind them, the lollipop sticking to her palm. Home sweet home.

"Mom?" Lowie had reached the top landing and waited for her, an insecure gleam in his eyes.

"Go on, you can go in!" she said, but she knew he wouldn't without her. He nervously scratched his arms and stared at his feet.

Lowie's room was the attic and the only room in the house that was already painted, decorated, and completely furnished. As soon as Selina had received the keys, she got started, working two entire days and a night until it was the room she wished she could've given her baby from the start.

She painted the angled walls midnight blue and created a milky way that ran the entire length of the room with glow-in-the-dark stars and planets. The bed from the secondhand store looked brand new with the hand-me-down Buzz Lightyear cover on top and she had covered the wooden floorboards under the skylight with a warm, mohair rug. "You like it?"

"I'm hungry. Can we have a picnic on the rug?"

She had preferred a more direct answer, but if Lowie wanted to eat in here, he'd probably agree to sleep in here, so she crossed her fingers. All was going to be well.

"Sure. I've got some bread and a jar of Nutella in the kitchen. Want me to make you a sandwich?"

While inspecting all the corners of the room, he twisted his body awkwardly, as if an electric current or a case of the chills went up and down his spine. "I wanna stay with you." Not letting go of her hand, he accompanied her to their new kitchen, where she buttered some toast for herself and spread an extra thick layer of chocolate on Lowie's sandwich.

"Can I have dominos?" he mumbled, his chin resting on the table top.

She diced her son's sandwich and placed a fork on his plate. Next level fancy. After that, she warmed some milk for him and made a cup of tea for herself. "I can't carry the tray ánd hold your hand. You'll just have to do that ape-thing and get up those stairs yourself."

The boy stroked his curls from his face with a flat hand. "Dragon. It's a dragon-thing."

"Alright. Just don't burn anything. Mommy really likes this house."

They shared their first evening meal in their new home on the rug under the skylight, then unpacked Lowie's toys while playing and laughing. When his eyes started to droop, she showed him her bedroom and the bathroom on the first floor, got him into his jammies, and curled up in his new bed beside him.

"Your hair is the prettiest of all the land," he said, as if he was her prince, twirling a finger into her thick, brown hair. She kissed the top of his head. His hair was silky and blonde, like the beautiful man she spent one crazy night with, the night she celebrated her graduation from nursing college. The night that changed everything.

Sex on the beach can lead to skin rash and massive hangovers. This particular hangover had bulldozered over her life, but the result was a marvelous gem. Besides his dad's blonde curls, Lowie had her hazel eyes, a vivid imagination, and a soft nature. Being a single mom was tough, but she wouldn't trade this little man for the world.

She stroked his cheek softly, lulling him to sleep, and after a few minutes, his hand dropped from her hair. As Lowie's breath grew deeper and his exhales stretched longer against the silence of the night, her chest swelled with that same warm and fuzzy feeling she had experienced in front of their house, the feeling of coming home. She watched him for a long time, then touched his forehead with her lips and slipped from his embrace with the utmost care.

There were still some boxes to unpack before she could retreat to the mattress on the floor of her very own master bedroom, which was another first. This place already housed so many thrilling first times, Selina couldn't wait for all the others to come.

Selina Sardi finally had all of her ducks in a row and she was damn fucking proud.

WC 1570 words
TWC 1570 words