Blue grunted. “Waiting is not for the weak.”
No. No, it is not.
“Oh, hold on,” Jules shrieked as I bolted past my parents. “Weston.” She pointed back to our boy. “We need to say goodbye.”
I made a reverse beeping sound, engineered a three-point turn, and jogged over to Weston.
He giggled, already half asleep on my dad’s shoulder. “Dada cawy Mama.”
“Mama had a big day,” I said.
“Very tired.” Jules patted a yawn, closed her eyes, and pretended to sleep. For Weston’s sake.
“Mama go nigh-night.” He pointed to himself. “Wes-sin stay Bampa and Gwammy.”
“Yes,” Jules said. “You be good.”
He flopped over, head on her chest, and hugged her.
She squeezed him back, eyes closed, her smile massive. “Love you, sweet boy.”
“Lu you.”
Then he reached over and wrapped his arms around my neck so tight it felt like he was trying to pop my head off.
I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Love you, dude.”
“Lu you,” he said.
We hugged my mom and dad. Or Jules did. With my arms full, I mostlygothugged.
“Bye!” Weston waved, looking perfectly happy in my dad’s arms.
“Sounds like a green light to me.” I made a vroom-vroom noise and sped off again.
Ten minutes later, we pulled up to our corner of what everyone was already calling the Dupree KOA—our camper a solid step above Cash and Charlie’s hooptie, a laughable five steps below Liam’s mansion on wheels?—
And gaped.
Jules clapped her hands. “Wahoo!”
“No,” I growled. “They did not.”
“They did.” She beamed at the words LEGALLY LICENSED TO HIPPITY DIPPITY IN ALL 50 STATES written in bright red across the side of our abode.
“We are not driving down the Blue Ridge Parkway likethat.” We would leave in the morning; final destination: Asheville, North Carolina.
“Oh, yes, we are.” She grabbed my face. “Pranks and shenanigans already, Griff. Pranks and shenanigans.”
“They should’ve given us a grace period. That had better wash off.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, a hand pressed to her heart, eyes soft like she was about to cry. “This is whatfamiliesdo.”
I couldn’t help but smile.
But then she whimper-squealed, pointed… and burst out laughing.
Because right there in the passenger’s seat was a life-sized cardboard cutout of Granny peering out at us, finger pointed—complete with a bubble caption that said,I’m watchingyou.
