Dating and Dragons (Dungeons and Drama, #2) (67)

I deposit the last box by the door and check on Grandma in the sun porch, where she’s sipping a cup of coffee and working on a 3D puzzle, her latest hobby.

“Your dad will be pleased.”

“Are you feeling any better about the retirement community?” I ask, and sit down across from her.

“It’s fine.” She glares at me. “It’s…nice.”

“It’s very nice.”

While Grandma’s new home isn’t nearly as large as this house, it’s new, clean, and bright. We’re bringing in lots of shelves for her to display her things, along with as much furniture as we can from here. There’s even a corner where she can paint or do puzzles, and a patio where she can drink her coffee. I really think she’s going to be happy—but not before being obstinate until the bittersweet end.

“You never know what might happen after the move,” I tell her. “I was nervous about coming here and going to a new school—really nervous. But sometimes change is a good thing.”

She nods and glances around the sun porch, which has been completely emptied other than the wicker furniture we’re using. It wasn’t long ago that the space was filled with paints and easels, and before that with houseplants when she got on a gardening kick. A wave of sadness and nostalgia washes over me. Soon someone new will own this house and all those times will be distant memories.

My emotions are reflected in her expression, but then she claps her hands together and gives me a sharp look.

“No more packing, no more complaining. Let’s get out of here and go for a drive.”

“A drive?” I repeat.

“Yes, a drive. We’re going to have some fun—I’m sure you’ve heard of the concept.”

“I have.” I chuckle. I follow her to the front door and pick up the keys to Mom’s car. Grandma immediately plucks them out of my hand and places them back down.

“No need. I’m going to drive.” She takes her jacket.

Unease settles in my chest. There’s something in the determined glimmer in her eye that tells me this trip is going to be trouble.

“Um…where do you want to go? Someplace in town?”

Her happy expression drops immediately. “I still have my license, thank you very much. If the state says I can drive, that means I can drive anywhere.”

“But Dad would rather—”

“What your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She tugs me along outside. “Come on, I think we could both use a long drive.”

She’s right, it does sound great. I bite my lip and walk to the passenger door. I know my parents won’t be happy to hear she drove someplace other than the usual roads she’s used to, but what else am I supposed to do? Physically drag her back into the house? Sit on the sidewalk in protest until she decides to give in? I can only imagine her reaction to that. When Grandma is in this mood, there’s nothing I can do to sway her.

“So, where are we going?” I ask as she pulls out of the driveway.

“Jim told me about these amazing Amish shops about an hour away from here. Everything is handcrafted, and they have the most beautiful quilts.” She turns to me with a devilish smile on her face. “I thought we could do a little shopping, pick up a few things, and then have dinner at the restaurant up there. I want to get their chicken and noodles.”

While a bowl of warm carbs on this chilly spring day sounds comforting—maybe eaten while wrapped in a big quilt—this is a horrible plan. And knowing Grandma, she isn’t ignorant of that fact either. Driving on back country roads for hours? Buying a bunch of stuff when we’ve just decluttered the house? This is Grandma rebelling. It would almost be cute if I wasn’t in the middle of it.

“I don’t know if this is the best idea. Why don’t we check out one of the little shops on Main Street? Or we could go get lasagna at that new restaurant a few blocks from here?”

She looks at me long enough that I point at the road to make sure she’s watching.

“Are you going to be a spoilsport who tries to stop me, or would you like a slice of homemade Dutch apple pie from the Amish restaurant?”

I huff. “Fine, I won’t stop you.” I settle back into the seat. “But I’m also not defending you when Dad goes ballistic.”

“I can handle your father.”

Grandma’s tone is confident enough that I almost let go of my nerves and enjoy the ride—though the landscape isn’t at its most beautiful right now. Soon spring will truly be here and we can look forward to green grass and daffodils, but right now it’s all gray skies and leafless trees—like a grayscale painting. The first ten minutes are uneventful as we make our way out of town. It’s lucky there’s never much traffic. But then we get out onto the two-lane road that leads us to Amish country, and it quickly becomes clear that the route is both hilly and windy. I grip the door as she takes a curve way too fast.

“You should slow down,” I say, my voice tight. It’s hard to anticipate what’s coming next with these roads. One moment you’re cresting a hill and the next you could be hitting another curve…or a car if you aren’t careful. This driving isn’t for the faint of heart.

She hits the brakes for a second but barely slows down. “I don’t remember it being like this out here.”