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“That’s the last of it,” I call the following Friday afternoon as I make it down the stairs with the last box from Grandma’s attic.

It’s been ten long days since Logan and I decided to keep our distance (not that I’ve been obsessively counting or anything). The only time I’ve heard from or seen him was at the game last Saturday, and even then he snuck in right before the livestream started, our characters barely interacted in the game, and I left immediately after. If the others felt the strain between us, they didn’t say anything. I’m betting it’ll get easier to stay away with time.

It can’t get harder.

At least Grandma’s agreement to move has come at a good time, because it’s given me something to do each day after school. My parents have met us here after work every day to pack boxes and clean. Even Andrew has been over afew times. We’ve managed to completely clear the attic, the second-floor closets, and the extra bedrooms. There’s still lots more work to be done, but Dad is hoping to get it staged to sell by next month.

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’mgoing 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 couldbothuse 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?”