Chapter 17
The New Jersey Turnpike stretched ahead like a gray ribbon of purgatory, and Lauren Phillips was convinced she was going to lose her mind.
Thirty-six hours. That's how long she had been trapped in the Garrison Getaway with her grandmother behind the wheel and her sister in the seat behind her, and if she heard one more opinion about her snack choices, she was going to open the door and roll out onto the highway.
“You're eating those again?” Sarah leaned forward between the front seats, eyeing the bag of cheese puffs in Lauren's lap. “Do you know what's in those things?”
“Deliciousness. That's what's in them.”
“Chemicals. Artificial colors. Enough sodium to preserve a small mammal.”
“And yet, somehow, I'm still alive.” Lauren popped another puff into her mouth with deliberate defiance. “It's a miracle of modern science.”
From the driver's seat, Grandma Sarah's voice cut through their bickering like a knife through butter. “Both of you, hush. I'm trying to concentrate. This truck driver thinks he owns the road.”
Lauren watched as her eighty-year-old grandmother accelerated the RV to pass an eighteen-wheeler, the vehicle swaying slightly as they pulled alongside the massive truck. The driver honked. Grandma Sarah honked back, longer and louder.
“Grandma,” Sarah said from the back, her voice tight, “maybe we shouldn't antagonize the man driving a vehicle that could crush us like a soda can.”
“He started it. Did you see the way he looked at me when we passed him the first time? Like I don't know how to drive.”
“You were going fifty in the left lane,” Lauren pointed out.
“I was being cautious. There was a suspicious puddle.”
“It was a shadow.”
“It looked wet.”
Lauren exchanged a glance with her sister in the rearview mirror. For a brief moment, their mutual exasperation united them. Then Sarah reached forward and plucked a cheese puff from Lauren's bag.
“Hey!”
“Consider it a toll for having to smell those things for the last hundred miles.”
“You have your own snacks. I saw the kale chips.”
Sarah made a face. “Trevor packed those. He thinks road trips are an opportunity for healthy eating.”
“Trevor thinks everything is an opportunity for healthy eating. Remember Christmas? He brought a vegetable tray to Mom's cookie exchange.”
“It was well-received.”
“By whom? The reindeer?”
Grandma Sarah swerved around a minivan that had committed the unforgivable sin of merging too slowly. “Girls, I swear, you two have been at each other's throats since we left Florida. What happened to my sweet granddaughters who used to braid each other's hair?”
“Lauren cut my braid off when I was eight,” Sarah said.
“You told Mom I was the one who broke her favorite vase.”
“You were the one who broke it!”
“But you didn't have to tell her. That's what sisters are for. Covering for each other.”
“I was a child. I didn't understand the sister code yet.”
Grandma Sarah shook her head slowly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “All these years later and you're still relitigating childhood grievances.”
Lauren's phone buzzed in the cupholder. She glanced at the screen and groaned.
“Jeff again?” Sarah asked.
“Third time today.” Lauren picked up the phone and answered with forced cheerfulness. “Hey, honey! How's everything going?”
Her husband's voice came through slightly panicked. “Lily won't eat anything I make. She says my grilled cheese tastes wrong. How can grilled cheese taste wrong? It's bread, butter, and cheese.”
“Did you use the white cheddar? She only likes the orange kind.”
“There's a difference?”
Lauren pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, Jeff. There's a difference. The orange cheese is in the drawer on the left side of the fridge, behind the yogurt.”
“Okay, okay. I'll find it. Also, Daniel drew on the wall with permanent marker. Just a heads up.”
“Which wall?”
“The one in the hallway. The one we just painted.”
Lauren took a deep breath. In the background, she could hear what sounded like a small explosion followed by her son's delighted laughter.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Nothing. Everything's fine. Totally under control. Love you, bye!”
The line went dead.
Sarah watched her with barely concealed amusement. “Sounds like Jeff's having a great time.”
“Don't start.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face said plenty.”
Grandma Sarah chuckled from the driver's seat. “Marriage is a beautiful institution. It builds character. Mostly through suffering.”
“Grandma!”
“What? I know a few things about it.” She checked her mirrors and changed lanes with the confidence of someone who had been driving since before seatbelts were mandatory.
“Walter is probably at home right now, enjoying the peace and quiet, eating crackers in bed without anyone telling him he's making crumbs. Men always recover faster than we think they will.”
Lauren's phone buzzed again, this time with a text.
Found the cheese. Crisis averted.
The landscape outside had shifted from endless strip malls to something slightly greener, though everything was still brown with early spring. They were somewhere in central New Jersey now, that strange no-man's-land where the turnpike seemed to stretch into infinity.
“How much longer until the next rest stop?” Sarah asked. “I need to stretch my legs.”
“We just stopped an hour ago,” Grandma Sarah said.
“That was for gas.”
“And you didn't use the facilities then?”
“I didn't need to then. I need to now.”
“Fine. There's a service area in about fifteen miles. But we're not spending an hour there like we did at the last one. We have a schedule to keep.”
“What schedule? The babies are already born. It's not like they're going anywhere.”
“The schedule that gets us to Massachusetts before I'm too old to remember why we went.”
Lauren laughed despite herself. “Grandma, you're going to outlive all of us.”
“That's the plan. Someone has to keep this family in line.”
Sarah's phone rang, and she fumbled to answer it.
“Hello? Oh, hi honey.” A pause. “No, the fish don't need to be fed twice a day. Once is fine. Yes, I'm sure. Trevor, we’ve had those fish for three years, I think I know—” She sighed heavily.
“Fine. Feed them twice. But if they're floating belly-up when I get home, that's on you.”
She hung up and caught Lauren smirking at her.
“Not a word,” Sarah warned.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
The RV fell into a rare moment of silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the rhythmic thump of tires on pavement. Lauren watched the mile markers tick by and let her mind wander to what lay ahead.
It didn't seem possible that Beth had twins.
Time had played one of its cruel tricks, compressing years into what felt like moments.
Wasn't it just yesterday that Beth was learning to ride a bike in the driveway of the Andover house?
Wasn't it just last week that she graduated from law school, so proud and nervous and ready to take on the world?
And now there were babies. Two of them. Alexander and Charlotte.
“You're quiet,” Sarah observed from the back seat.
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About Beth. About how strange it is that she's a mother now. I still think of her as the baby of the family.”
“She hasn't been a baby for thirty years.”
“I know. But in my head, she's still six years old, and I’m yelling for her to get out of my room.”
Sarah was quiet for a moment. “I know what you mean. When Mom called to say the babies were born, I cried. Not just happy tears. Something deeper. Like a chapter was ending.”
“Or beginning,” Lauren said.
“Both, maybe. That's the thing about family. Chapters are always ending and beginning at the same time. You don't get one without the other.”
Grandma Sarah's voice was softer when she spoke. “That's the wisest thing either of you has said this whole trip.”
“Don't get used to it,” Sarah replied. “I'm sure we'll be back to arguing about snacks within the hour.”
“I'm counting on it. The bickering keeps me awake.”
The sign for the service area appeared ahead, and Grandma Sarah put on her turn signal with the precision of a military maneuver.
“Fifteen minutes,” she announced. “Bathroom, snacks if you must, and back on the road. We're making good time, and I don't want to lose our momentum.”
“We're in an RV,” Lauren pointed out. “We don't have momentum. We have gentle forward motion.”
“Don't sass me. I'm your elder.”
They pulled into the service area, a sprawling complex of fast food chains and gas pumps and families that looked just as road-weary as they felt. Lauren climbed out of the RV and stretched, her back popping in three different places.
“I'm too old for this,” she muttered.
“You're not old, you’re just not used to RV life. Neither of us are. I can’t believe Grandma loves driving it. She’s eighty, shouldn’t she be taking it easy?”
“I heard that,” Grandma Sarah called from inside the RV, where she was gathering her purse.
“I meant for you to hear it.”
“I don’t plan on spending the rest of my life in a rocking chair, thank you very much.”
Sarah followed Lauren inside, and the two of them made their way to the ladies room followed by a stop in the Starbucks line.
The line was long and moved slowly.
Maggie texted Lauren: How's the drive? Casualties?
Lauren typed back: No casualties yet. Minor psychological damage. Will need therapy. How are the babies?
The response came quickly: Perfect. Beautiful. Beth is exhausted but happy. Can't wait for you to meet them.
Almost there. Tell Beth we love her.
She knows. She can't wait to see you.
Lauren smiled at her phone and shuffled forward in line.
This was why they were doing this. Not for the drive, not for the questionable rest stop coffee, but for the family waiting at the end.
For Beth and her babies. For the chance to be together, to witness the newest additions to a family that had weathered so much and somehow kept growing.
Sarah chuckled. “Grandma's holding court next to the RV. She's already made friends.”
“Of course she has. I think that’s why she does this. She’s such a social butterfly. She needs interaction with people.”
“Whatever it takes, I guess. I know we always tease her, but the truth is I’m happy she’s found something that makes her want to get up in the morning.”
“I agree. I just hope I’m able to have as much energy when I’m her age. Right now, I can’t find the energy just to be a passenger, let alone drive that thing.”
They got their coffees and found Grandma Sarah exactly where Sarah had said, engaged in animated conversation with a young couple who looked slightly overwhelmed. The woman held a toddler who was systematically destroying a packet of crackers.
“And that's why you should always pack extra diapers,” Grandma Sarah said as they approached. “You think you have enough, and then suddenly you're in the middle of nowhere and the baby has had three blowouts and you're using napkins from a Wendy's. Trust me. Extra diapers.”
“She speaks from experience,” Lauren said, joining them. “She raised three kids, and has been a babysitter to five grandchildren, and now, occasionally several great-grandchildren. We’re at twelve now, my sister having just given birth to twins.”
The young mother's eyes widened. “Twins? Oh my goodness. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. We're on our way to meet them now. Drove all the way from Florida.”
“That's a long drive.”
“It's worth it. Family is always worth it.” Grandma Sarah stood and gathered her purse. “Well, we should get back on the road. You folks have a safe trip. And remember…extra diapers.”
They made their way back inside the RV, coffees in hand, the brief interaction with strangers having somehow lifted everyone's spirits. That was the thing about Grandma Sarah, Lauren thought. She could talk to anyone, anywhere, and leave them feeling like they'd known her for years.
“You're a menace,” Lauren told her as they climbed back into the RV. “That poor family didn't know what hit them.”
“I gave them valuable information. They'll thank me later.” Grandma Sarah settled into the driver's seat and started the engine. “Now. Let's see if we can make Connecticut before dark.”
“And then?” Sarah asked.
“And then we check into our hotel and have a lovely dinner before getting to bed. We’ve got two new babies to meet tomorrow.”
As she started the engine, Grandma Sarah announced, “The Garrison Getaway is on its way. Here we go.”
Lauren laughed and settled back into her seat, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. Outside, New Jersey was giving way to the first hints of New York, the landscape slowly shifting as they continued north.
They would be at Beth and Gabriel’s tomorrow. Tomorrow, she would hold her niece and nephew for the first time. Tomorrow, the real chaos would begin—the whole family together, the laughter and tears and inevitable arguments that came with any Wheeler gathering.
But for now, there was just this. The road unwinding ahead of them, the hum of the engine, and the women she loved most in the world, bickering and laughing their way toward home.
“You know,” Sarah said from the back seat, “this hasn't been as bad as I thought it would be.”
“The drive?” Lauren asked.
“All of it. Being stuck together for three days. I thought we'd kill each other by now.”
“The trip isn't over yet.”
“True. There's still time.”
Grandma Sarah caught Lauren's eye in the rearview mirror and winked. “There's always time, girls. That's the blessing and the curse of family. You're stuck with each other forever, so you might as well enjoy it.”
“Is that wisdom or a threat?” Lauren asked.
“Yes,” Grandma Sarah replied, and pressed her foot a little harder on the gas.
The Garrison Getaway surged forward carrying Wheeler women toward Massachusetts, toward babies, toward the next chapter of a story that was still being written.