Epilogue
“Do we need that?” Ethan pointed to my hard-shelled portable lighting-rig case, then turned back to the trunk of his car.
“Of course we do. How am I supposed to film without my lighting rig?”
“You could rent one, like everybody else in Los Angeles.” Ethan chuckled, running a hand over his freshly cut hair. “Or borrow Nittha’s lights. I’m sure Cricket has some.”
“Maybe we don’t bring all your winter coats?” I wrinkled my nose at him. “You will need exactly none of those at any time in the next six months.”
“Or I could ship the lights to you if you really need them,” BamBam said, waltzing out of the front door, holding a plate of brownies. Buzzy followed behind her at a careful distance.
“That’s a perfect solution.” Ethan grinned and walked over to BamBam. Taking the brownies from her, he said, “Thank you, Ms. Mini. These brownies are one of the things I’m gonna miss most about the Webb house.”
“Well, baby, I’ll text you the recipe.” BamBam winked.
“I’ll text you mine as well. And the recipe for that pot roast you love so much,” Buzzy added, edging past BamBam with her cane dangerously close to my grandma’s shins. Both of them wore expressions that implied they were on their best behavior for our sakes…and they hated it. A lot.
“I’m sure we’ll make good on any and all recipes the two of you send,” Ethan said diplomatically, before heading out to the car to set the brownies with my jalapeno chips.
Ethan and I had taken third in the contest, which meant we got $35,000 to split on behalf of the city of Las Vegas and lifetime bragging rights as the original TrendCon love story.
For me, that meant some new gear, a week spent at SISU’s cinema summer program, and enough money to make a small dent in my first-semester tuition at USC, which was good, because that private-school bill almost sent my parents into cardiac arrest.
For Ethan, the prize meant fixing up the old convertible SUV we were about to drive away in, stepping back from content creation, and ensuring a cushion to get himself settled at LA City College while he figured out what was next for him.
Had I encouraged him to follow me to LA?
Yes. Did I have any regrets? Absolutely not.
And of course, we’d both set aside money for the cross-country adventure we were about to take.
“You have to promise to post videos and pictures.” Mom held up a hand as soon as I opened my mouth to protest. “I don’t care what you wear in them. I only want to follow along and make sure you’re safe.”
“She can do that with phone calls and texts, June.” Dad smiled and spread his arms wide to give me a hug. Pulling me close to him, he added, “But I’d be okay if you posted, too. And you know your BamBam would love it. She never misses a chance to brag about you.”
After the TrendCon contest, I’d decided to set up my own accounts to feature my work.
Mostly, they featured sketches or shorts I’d convinced Nittha and Gabby—whose team had won the TrendCon contest—to star in, plus a few of my favorite videos with BamBam, including a sponsored video from a new Black-owned makeup brand wanting to break into the seasoned-women’s market.
“I’m contractually obligated to do both, I think.” I laughed as Dad released me directly into Mom’s embrace. “You two are my parents, so of course I’m calling you. And the parks department is paying me…kind of.”
Between those videos I’d started sharing and the TrendCon win, I’d been able to convince a few state parks and local governments to partner with me and Ethan on our drive out. It wasn’t exactly a big movie deal, but a few free camping sites and diner meals wasn’t a bad place to start.
“Alright. I think that’s everything,” Ethan said, slamming the heavy SUV trunk door.
Just behind my parents, Ethan’s mom, dad, and four sisters were here to see him off, all of them clutching tissues and pressing their mouths into the same flat line like that would stop any of them from being sentimental.
It worked for exactly three seconds, until Izzie started crying, at which point the entire family dissolved into a messy pile of hugs and sniffles, Ethan included.
My sister and brother had come home from SISU to see me off, and I gave them a big joint hug, the three of us trying not to laugh at how unemotional we were compared to Ethan’s family.
“Time to say goodbye so you two can get on the road. Come here and give me a hug.” My grandmother’s voice came from over my shoulder right as my siblings released me.
BamBam’s eyes were watery even as a big smile bloomed on her face.
My throat tightened as I stepped toward her outstretched arms. As excited as I was to go to California, I was not excited about leaving BamBam behind.
Not that she was home much anymore. In an unexpected twist, while the video series I came up with for BamBam in Las Vegas hadn’t drawn much interest from big makeup brands or Sterling’s partners, it had gotten the attention of tourism boards that wanted to recruit vibrant retirees to their towns.
Thus, BamBam had spent the last nine months honing her own filming skills everywhere from Palm Springs to the Florida Keys and even Tuscany.
She was officially a globe-trotting Grannie now.
Not that she wouldn’t show up in a Sterling James video from time to time just to keep Buzzy on her toes.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” BamBam wrapped her arms around me, squeezing and rocking me back and forth like she had always done. Speaking low so only I could hear her, she said, “You know your grandma doesn’t have favorites, but I sure am gonna miss you.”
“I’m not really ready to say goodbye,” I said into her shoulder, holding on to her tighter.
“I know. But it’s time.” Gently releasing me, she said, “You’ve grown into who Grandma raised you to be. It’d be wrong of me to keep you here when the whole world is out there waiting for you.”
“I’ll miss you.” I sniffed and swiped at my tears with both hands.
“I’m only a phone call away, no matter the time zone.” BamBam reached out and ran a hand down my arm as she laughed. Turning to Ethan, she put on her best stern-grandma voice and said, “You take good care of my baby, you understand me, young person?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ethan smiled, throwing an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to him, then giving me a kiss on my temple.
“Well alright, then, enough goodbyes,” BamBam pronounced, stealthily running a hand under her glistening eyes. “You two get on the road. And have fun.”
“We will. Love you.” I waved at my family as I walked to the passenger’s side door, a chorus of don’t-forget-to-texts and see-you-soons following us into the car.
After buckling my seat belt, I pulled my sunglasses out of my bag and popped them on.
Meanwhile, Ethan adjusted different mirrors to see around all the stuff we’d crammed into the car.
“Ready?” he asked, glancing at me.
“Almost.” I grabbed the cable that connected the SUV’s old stereo to my phone and pulled up the Old Man Driving playlist we’d spent months creating together. I hit Play, and a song about life being a highway started. Grinning wildly at him, I said, “Now I’m ready.”
Putting the car in drive, Ethan eased us away from the house, the two of us waving out the open sunroof and watching our families shrink in the mirrors.
Once they disappeared, both of us grew quiet, the weight of change settling in.
Stopping at a light, Ethan reached for my hand.
Lifting it to his lips, he kissed my knuckles gently.
“I’m glad your grandma didn’t scare me off that day on the plane.
I wouldn’t have wanted to miss this moment. ”
“She tried, trust me.” I giggled. Running my thumb along the edge of his hand, I thought back on our relationship, and my chest squeezed. “If I had to do it over, I’d still choose you.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Ethan’s lips tilted into a smile as he turned his attention back to the road. Twining his fingers between mine as the light changed to green, we turned onto the highway to begin our next adventure.
It seemed like yesterday that we’d boarded the same plane, his shaggy hair and freckles catching my eye.
In so many ways, Ethan and I were different people than who we’d been that day, both of us braver and more honest for having each other.
But in as many ways, we were the same. He was still the person I was excited to drink my impractical coffees with, who wanted me to know car facts and old songs.
My arms were still comforting to him on a bad day, and his hands were still the ones I wanted to hold.
As we headed toward the horizon, I realized that even if I’d written the script, I couldn’t have imagined a better ending to our Las Vegas love story. Or a better beginning to our sequel.