The next morning, Maggie sat in the Garrison Getaway and thought about that conversation as they prepared to leave. Through the window, she could see Beth on the porch, both babies in a double carrier strapped to Gabriel's chest. Emilystood beside her, and they were already looking at something on Beth's phone—probably setting up for the video calls to come.
“I'm driving,” Grandma Sarah announced, climbing into the driver's seat with the determination of a woman who had not asked for opinions and was not interested in receiving any.
“Mother, we're only going thirty minutes down the road,” Maggie said. “We could take Beth's car.”
“And waste a perfectly good RV? Absolutely not.” Grandma Sarah adjusted the mirrors with practiced efficiency. “Besides, we might need the space. For boxes. For memories. For dramatic emotional breakdowns.”
“I wasn't planning on a dramatic emotional breakdown.”
“No one ever plans them, Maggie. That's what makes them dramatic.”
Chelsea had already claimed the passenger seat and was buckling herself in. “I'm documenting everything today. Photos, videos, the works. For Beth and Emily, but also for posterity. Someday those twins are going to want to know about the house where their mother grew up.”
“That's actually very thoughtful,” Sarah said, climbing into the back.
“I'm a very thoughtful person.”
“Let's not get carried away.”
Lauren squeezed past them and dropped into one of the seats near the back. “I can't believe we're taking the RV to go half an hour down the road. We're going to look ridiculous pulling into the neighborhood.”
“We're going to look like a family who knows how to travel in style,” Grandma Sarah corrected.
“We're going to look like we're moving in, not moving out.”
“Same energy. Different direction.”
Maggie settled into the seat behind Chelsea and took one last look at the farmhouse. Beth raised her phone and waved it,indicating she was ready. Emily lifted her hand in her characteristic small wave—hesitant but present.
“Is everyone in?” Grandma Sarah called. “I want to get there before lunch.”
“It's nine in the morning,” Maggie said. “It's a thirty-minute drive.”
“And I want to get there before lunch. What's your point?”
“My point is—never mind. Yes, everyone's in.”
Grandma Sarah started the engine, and the RV rumbled to life. “Next stop, the past.”
“That's very dramatic for a drive to Andover,” Lauren said.
“I've been working on it. Three days on the road gives you time to think of these things.”
They pulled out of the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires, and Maggie felt something shift in her chest. They were really doing this. After all the planning and postponing and finding reasons to wait, they were finally going back to the Andover house.
The RV lumbered down the farm's long driveway and turned onto the main road. Within minutes, they had left Boxford behind and were winding through the Massachusetts countryside.
“So,” Chelsea said, twisting in her seat to face the others, “what's the game plan? When we get there, I mean. Are we just diving in, or is there a system?”
“Chris and Becca are already there,” Maggie said.
“That makes sense. It's been their home too.”
“Michael said he'd meet us there around eleven. He's driving up from Boston.”
“What about the actual packing?” Lauren asked. “Are we doing it all today?”
Maggie shook her head. “Today is just the beginning. Going through things, deciding what to keep, what to donate, what tothrow away. The actual packing and moving will take a few more days.”
