Grace
The truck rattles down the snowy road, my dad humming along to the radio while mom flips through her folded schedule like she’s planning a military operation. And that mission is still my love life. She hasn't pushed since we all arrived, but I still get the feeling that she is holding her cards close to her chest. Today was one of those cards.
From the back seat, though, this all feels a lot less like a family outing and more like a pressure cooker that's about ready to explode.
Parker sits stiffly on one side, staring out the window like the passing trees might save him from this very uncomfortable ride. Dawson sits on the other side, his broad shoulders brushing against mine every time the truck hits a bump. And me? Well, lucky me, I’m stuck in the middle of them, clutching t
