RV There Yet? by Diann Hunt Read Free Book Online

highlighted in green, and west roads in orange. She’s so organized, and I’m, well, not.
    â€œCould someone get me a pillow for my back?” Lydia asks.
    Running the six feet to the “bedroom,” I grab a pillow. “Here you go.” She leans forward, and I stuff it between her and the seat back.
    â€œThanks, DeDe. Um, could you get me a bottled water from the fridge?” she asks. “Should have gotten one before I started driving. Sorry.”
    â€œOh, grab me one too, Dee, will you?” Millie calls out.
    Something tells me I’m going to have the hardest job here. Okay, so I walk all of four steps to go from their chairs to the refrigerator, but still.
    â€œWe’re planning to travel four or five hours a day to allow for any problems and to give us time to relax, so this should be a pretty easy trip,” Millie says.
    â€œWhere will we end up today?” I ask, handing them both their bottled waters.
    â€œThanks.” Millie looks at her map. “We’ll be going a little ways through New Hampshire, then heading south into Massachusetts. From there we’ll hit New York State and finally stop around Albany, New York.”
    â€œHow far is that?” I ask.
    â€œI’d say roughly two hundred fifty miles.”
    â€œOh, look at those sweet little high school boys,” Lydia says as a school bus comes alongside us. She smiles and waves.
    â€œThey’re hoodlums; don’t encourage them,” Millie grouses.
    â€œOh, for goodness’ sake, they’re a friendly high school football team. Probably just won a game or something,” Lydia says, still waving.
    The bus finally passes and pulls in front of us. Lydia’s scream splits through the air, the RV wobbles, and I fall off my seat.
    â€œWell, that is the most disgusting thing—pull alongside that bus right this minute, Lydia, and tell their coach,” Millie barks, her snapping fingers punctuating the statement.
    By the time I pull myself off the floor and hobble up to the front, the objects of their distress are fading farther down the highway.
    Still, I can’t help but giggle when I see the bare rumps of two high schoolers shining in all their glory from the back window of the bus.
    â€œI can’t believe you’re laughing,” Millie says. “They’re mooning us!”
    â€œShame on them,” I say with an appropriate amount of reprimand in my voice. I try to stop laughing, but for the life of me, I can’t.
    Millie snorts. “And you’re letting them get away, Lydia?”
    â€œWaldo can’t keep up, Millie,” she says.
    â€œBesides, if we stop them, it will take up too much time, and we’ll get behind in our trip,” I say, laughing harder.
    â€œYeah, and if we’re the last ones to arrive at Aspen Creek, we’ll be the butt of everyone’s jokes.” Now Lydia is laughing too, so hard I’m afraid she’s going to pop a rib.
    Millie huffs—or is she trying to cover up a chuckle?—then cracks open another book. “I thought it would be fun if we brushed up on some trivia along the way about Rocky Mountain National Park, since we visited there so long ago.”
    â€œNow there’s a thrill a minute. You’re forgetting that geography is not my forte? It’s linked right up there with the getting-lost-inthe- parking-garage thing.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m helping you. Once you learn geography, you might actually notice, oh, I don’t know, exit signs, road signs, tree scars, you know, the typical things that help you get where you need to go.” Millie flashes a smile.
    I pop open my water bottle and pause to look at Millie. “Bottoms up,” I say with a grin before taking a drink.
    She ignores me completely. Still, Lydia giggles, so I’m satisfied.
    â€œBesides, it will be fun to see how much we remember from being in Colorado as teens,” Millie