Chapter Three #2
“Grant.” Piper’s sharp bark brought him back to the moment. “Can we go home or did you want to watch the bags go by all day? I know Coeur-de-Lac is boring, but it’s not that boring.”
His brother and his sister each had a large suitcase.
Piper’s bag was likely filled with all the laundry she’d accumulated since Thanksgiving, which she’d con their mom into doing.
Who the fuck knew why Austin had so much stuff?
Grant could pack everything he needed for a month-long trip into a duffel bag.
“What the hell did you pack?” Grant grunted when he had to hoist Austin’s heavy bag into the bed of his truck.
“Clothes,” Austin answered bluntly, while his thumbs flew over the surface of his phone.
Piper stood on her toes to try and see over his shoulder. “Who are you texting?”
“No one—my agent. Just show stuff.” Austin tucked his phone into his pocket.
“Can we get Culver’s on the way home?” Piper asked.
“No.” Austin yanked open the front door of the cab. “I can’t eat it and I don’t want to smell it.”
Piper’s face contracted with horror. “Oh god. You didn’t become a vegan, did you?”
“I have to stay in shape for the show. Abs are made in the kitchen.”
“The best parts of Wisconsin are cheese and beer. Were you planning on being insufferable this entire trip?”
Grant shut the tailgate. He wasn’t going to get in the middle of this. It was not his job to referee fights between his adult siblings, even if years of conditioning to do just that set his teeth on edge.
“Excuse me for caring about my health,” Austin continued.
“I’m going to smack every indulgent scrap of food out of your hands.”
“Get in the truck!” Grant snapped. “Stop talking and get in the truck.”
“Someone’s cranky,” Piper said to Austin out of the corner of her mouth.
“We’re not going to stop on the way home because Mom has a roast in the Crock-Pot.
I promise we will get Culver’s while you’re home,” he said to Piper, then turned to Austin.
“And you will eat whatever Mom puts in front of you because she loves you and she misses you and if you make her cry, I will make you cry. Understood?”
His siblings both nodded rapidly.
“Good. Now shut up and get in the damn truck already.”
Piper weaseled her way into the front by claiming potential car sickness, then slid her seat back until it touched Austin’s knees.
Was it January yet?
The first half of the drive home was eerily silent except for the sound of the radio, which Grant eventually turned to country to get a rise out of his passengers.
It worked.
If there was one thing Austin and Piper could agree on, it was that country music was mostly garbage after 2001.
Then, like the radio gods heard them, “Cowboy Take Me Away” came on, and they sang as loud as they could for the next four minutes.
Grace had always been a huge fan of The Chicks, and there wasn’t much that trio couldn’t fix in the Underwood house.
After it was over, Grant changed the station to classic rock and turned down the volume.
“So, what are we doing over break?” Piper asked, digging around in her backpack for something.
“Break? What’s a break? Some of us have jobs, Pipes,” Grant said.
“Yeah,” Austin chimed in from the back seat.
“Not you.” Grant glanced in the rearview mirror. Austin was still texting rapidly.
Piper yanked out a giant bag of Skittles. She was a sugar goblin. It was amazing she had any teeth left.
“You owe me a birthday drink,” she reminded Grant, pulling open the bag and offering it to him. He scooped out a handful like a bear stealing honey from a hive and dropped a few rainbow sugar bombs in his mouth.
“Birthday drink? You’re barely old enough to drive.
You can’t drink…legally.” Grant was under no illusion about his sister using a fake ID prior to her twenty-first birthday.
Hell, she’d survived her teenage years with the full force of Tim and Grace Underwood’s attention.
The only reason the older Underwood kids had been able to throw parties in high school and early college was because their parents had been traveling constantly with Piper to her games.
“Hardy-har-har.” Piper rolled her eyes and offered Austin the bag of Skittles. He didn’t take any. “I want to go to Curly’s with you and Tony.”
“Why? We sit there and drink. Maybe watch sports. Maybe play pool. It’s not the magical experience you’re imagining.”
“Grant.” She pleaded his name and, like always, he caved.
“Fine. I will take you to Curly’s. But you can’t complain when you’re bored out of your skull.”
“I won’t be bored.” Piper crossed her heart with a hand full of Skittles.
“What time are we going?” Austin asked.
“You want to go to Curly’s? The lack of artisanal cocktails isn’t going to offend your refined Hollywood sensibilities?”
“It’s Curly’s or watching Antiques Roadshow with Mom and Dad. I pick Curly’s.”
Grant let out a long breath through pursed lips. “Then I guess we’re all going to Curly’s. But no complaining, and we leave when I say we leave.” He reached for Piper’s bag of Skittles. “And Austin is buying.”