Free Down the Hidden Path by Heather Burch

You’re like a dinosaur. Date-less-a-saurus.”
    She reached over the couch, grabbed his sides, and trickled her fingers over his ribs. He jumped, laughed, wriggled free, then grabbed her wrists and held her away from him.
    “You’re really getting strong, David.”
    His honey eyes glistened. “Stronger than you.” The front of his button-down shirt was wrinkled from lying on the floor in front of the fire. He’d stoked up the blaze earlier and now had a soot smear on his cheek.
    “That’s not saying much; after all, I’m practically extinct. Now, since I don’t have time to sew up these stupid bat wings, please tell me what to wear on this cursed date.” She snapped her fingers. “And be quick about it. I want to be changed before your mom gets here to pick you up.”
    “She’s coming in this time, you know. You can’t keep her on the front porch forever.”
    Oh Lord. That was all she needed. “I just wanted to have more of the interior done before she saw it. Your house is so nice, pristine, pretty.”
    “Like a museum.”
    Gray sighed. “Yeah.” When Angie had started volunteering at the senior center, she agreed to let Gray pick David up at school three days a week and drive to River Rock, where they’d work on algebra and other subjects Angie referred to as “above her own pay grade.” That suited Gray fine. She loved being the first one to hear about his day.
    David stood and strode into her bedroom, where the closet door hung open and outfits littered the bed. “This is a nice place, Gray. Feels warm and homey. Plus, I can ride my skateboard in the kitchen down the slope in the floor.”
    Gray covered her face with her hands.
    David stood at the closet inspecting the choices. He spun to face her and shrugged. “I got nothing.” Then his eyes landed on her jeans and sweater in the corner. She’d discarded them after throwing them on earlier in the day to run to the store. He pointed to them. “Wear those.”
    A black turtleneck and True Religion jeans. She could add her tall black leather boots. “Really?” she asked him.
    “Sure. You look great in that.”
    Oh. Huh. She hadn’t thought about wearing jeans. They did fit her nicely and made her feel sort of svelte and powerful. Like the perfect cross between a big-city girl and the hillbilly she really was. She closed one eye and pointed at him. “Good choice.”
    Gray shooed him out and changed quickly. She was just tugging on her boots when the doorbell rang. Oh no. “I’ll get it.”
    But it was too late. David had run to the front door and threw it open. Angie stood on the other side and pushed her way in as David stepped aside. “It’s about time I see this place.” She gave him a quick hug.
    “I’ll get my stuff.” David tromped off to the far bedroom and Gray watched from the safety of her room as Angie’s eyes scanned the space. First the cracked walls, the spot of missing ceiling tiles, the peeling wallpaper. Her face said it all. Disgusted. But probably too sweet to say so.
    Gray emerged from her room, hoping Angie would also notice the lovely fire in the fireplace, the pictures of David, sitting on the mantel, the warm quilts and how she’d tried to make it feel like a home. “It’s a work in progress.”
    Angie blinked. “Yes, I can see that. It is safe, though, right? You’ve had the wiring checked?”
    “Oh yes. Of course. That’s the first thing I did. The whole house has been rewired. It was built in 1903. Sort of historical.” Stop it. Stop trying to justify the mess that it was. She’d had no idea how much work would be involved in renovating.
    Angie moved to take a step and the floor creaked. “Is this—” She shifted her weight from side to side.
    “Unlevel, yes. Eventually, they’ll have to jack up the floor.”
    Angie nodded, hands folded in front of her. “Are you still thinking of moving back to Laver?”
    Gray chewed on her cheek. She didn’t know why the image of Jeremiah skated across her