She grins. “It was all part of the experience.”
“Yeah, well, there were some parts I definitely could have done without.”
And others I wouldn’t have missed for the world.
“Come on.” She hooks her arm through mine, pulling me along beside her. “Let’s go find the Route 66 end-of-the-trail sign. You know the deal.”
I do, because over the last several weeks, I’ve gotten to know Lucy. The real Lucy. The one full of snark and sass who likes her coffee with one cream and one sugar. The one who has an unhealthy addiction to BTS and can eat twelve pounds of Sour Patch Kids and still sleep soundly at night. The one who studied business administration, not because she was passionate about it but because it was practical.
The one who thinks she blends into the background when in fact she stands out.
The success of So Savvy Traveler is proof enough.
Still, I heave a theatrical sigh because it’s expected. “Pictures or it didn’t happen.”
“Exactly.” She smirks, looking far too pleased with herself. “I’ve trained you well.”
“Yeah, and it only took two years.” I nudge her. “Imagine what you could accomplish with five.”
She ignores the dig and pulls out her phone, snapping pics as we make our way down the pier.
It’s a beautiful day, and the place is bustling. Late-afternoon crowds mill around as gulls sail overhead, squawking and occasionally diving to grab a lost fry from the wooden slats. The pier juts out over the Pacific, flanked on both sides by sandy beaches that stretch as far as the eye can see, and there’s a gentle breeze, which carries the briny scent of the ocean mixed with fried dough.
My stomach growls as if on cue. “How do you feel about funnel cake?”
There’s only one right answer, but I’m pretty sure Lucy will get it on the first try.
“Like it should be its own food group and I’m not leaving this pier without one,” she says, not missing a beat. “But first, pictures.”
I grin and sling an arm over her shoulders. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Gonzalez, but I believe we can come to terms.”
We locate the Route 66 sign near the end of the pier, and after a dozen solo pictures, Lucy convinces me to join her—a final farewell to my So Savvy Traveler fans—and asks a passerby to snap a pic for us.
It’s a great shot, and Lucy looks radiant, so I ask her to AirDrop it to me.
For posterity.
Afterward, she insists we get commemorative Route 66 completion certificates—because we just wouldn’t be official without them—from a kiosk dealing in all things Mother Road.
Once we’re “official,” we grab a funnel cake to share and find a bench at the end of the pier where we can look out over the ocean as we eat.
“I can’t believe we actually did it,” I say, popping a piece of fried dough into my mouth. Powdered sugar coats my tongue, and it’s goddamn glorious. “If you had asked me last year if I would go on a cross-country road trip, my answer would’ve been a solid hell no.”
Lucy laughs and licks strawberry topping from her fingertips.
“I’m proud of us. To be honest, I can’t believe you stuck it out. I was sure you were going to quit by day three.”
That makes two of us.
“It was touch and go there for a minute. Especially with the bed situation.” I roll my shoulders. “Never again.”
Hell, I’m not sleeping in anything smaller than a queen from here on out. My ass is way too tall to be sleeping in a standard twin.
“About that.” The corner of her mouth twitches as she tears off another piece of fried dough. “I may have fibbed about the second bed being broken.”
“You— What?” Shock washes over me. Followed by pride and disbelief. I didn’t think she had it in her, but even worse, I can’t believe I fell for such an obvious lie. I mentally chide myself for being a dumbass and pop another piece of funnel cake into my mouth, chewing aggressively.
It wouldn’t have taken more than two minutes to test the bed, but it never once occurred to me that she might be lying.
