The Great Peach Experiment 1 Erin Downing (spicy books to read .TXT) 📖

a long, winding road past sandwich shops and more gas stations. “You took a wrong turn,” Lucy told him.

“Did I?” Dad asked.

“The highway is thataway,” Herb announced from the back seat.

“Well, maybe we should just see what’s down here,” Dad said. “I think there might be an interesting road-side attraction down this way, and we have Freddy’s summer goal to keep in mind.” He peered into the rearview mirror and attempted a wink. Moments later, he eased the car into a narrow space on the far end of a giant parking lot.

“Why are we stopping again?” Freddy yawned, covering his face with his sweatshirt.

“I’m a little tired of driving,” Dad said in a funny voice.

The kids all exchanged confused looks.

“Maybe we should just stop here for the night?” Dad suggested.

“Where are we?” Herb asked, peering out the window.

Lucy guessed there were hundreds—maybe thousands—of cars parked all around them. It was like a car zoo.

“Wisconsin Dells,” Dad said simply. “Waterpark Capital of the World.”

Lucy watched Herb’s face light up at the promise of waterslides and pools galore. But then his expression grew dark again. “You’re joking.”

“That’s not funny, Dad,” Lucy said.

“I’m actually very serious,” Dad said. “I took part of my Food Truck Festival winnings and booked us a room at a water park hotel tonight. I thought we could finish our drive tomorrow, and spend the rest of this afternoon riding waterslides instead? After all, I did promise Herb he could go swimming every day, and we have a few dry days to make up for. Hopefully this will do the trick?”

There was a momentary pause, then all three Peach kids screamed at once.

Dad covered his ears. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

That night, after they’d spent hours going down waterslides and drinking more fruit smoothies by the pool than anyone was willing to admit, the Peaches went out for pizza at one of the hotel’s many theme restaurants. A friendly waiter set a gleaming silver pan atop a giant can of stewed tomatoes, and everyone slid a gooey slice of pizza onto their plates.

While Herb waited for his pizza to cool, he reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out the lottery ticket Dad had bought for them earlier that afternoon. “I almost forgot!” he said. “We were going to wait to scratch this until we got home. But since we’re not going home yet, maybe we could just do it here instead?”

“Why not?” Dad said with a shrug. He read the lottery ticket instructions aloud: “To win, you must match the symbol in one of the picnic baskets to the winning symbol shown in the prize box.”

Dad pulled a coin out of his pocket and scratched the foil off the “prize” box. “The winning symbol is a pie!” he announced, obviously delighted.

“That’s serendipity!” Herb declared.

Next, Freddy scratched the silver foil off one of the picnic baskets. “I got a stupid fish,” he said. “Not a winner.”

One by one, each Peach took turns scratching another box on the ticket. “I got a flower,” Lucy announced.

“A campfire,” Dad groaned.

“I got a hot dog,” Herb said. He pushed the ticket into the center of the table. “There’s one picnic basket left to open. Who wants to scratch it?”

“Let’s call this one Mom’s box,” Lucy suggested. “Maybe she’ll have more luck than the rest of us did. You can scratch it for her, Herb.”

“For Mom,” Herb said seriously. Then he pursed his lips together and scratched off the last bits of silver. “It’s a pie!” he shrieked. “We won two dollars!”

They all cheered, celebrating almost as vigorously as they had after winning the Ohio Food Truck Festival. Then Herb stood up on the seat in their booth and kissed the winning lottery ticket. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“You know, I’m starting to think our luck might be changing,” Dad said, laughing. “We’ve got good stuff on the horizon.”

“I think you’re right,” Lucy said. Though they weren’t anywhere near perfect, and it was obviously going to take a long time for them to patch up all the cracks in their fractured family, Lucy finally felt like they were making progress. And even more important, she was starting to trust that their dad might eventually figure out how to lead their family in his own kind of way. For the very first time since their mom had died, Lucy was proud to be a Peach.

“It’s not luck,” Freddy said, pounding the table so hard the plates rattled. “It’s Peach power!”

“Peach power!” Dad and Herb repeated, pumping their fists.

Then they all looked at Lucy, eyebrows lifted expectantly. As Herb tackled her into a huge hug, Lucy laughed and shrieked, “Peach power!” In that moment, Lucy felt something she hadn’t in a long while: she felt like part of a complete family. A sweet, perfectly messy peach pie of a family.

My dearest Lucy and family,

Welcome home! I have some news. After living in this giant house for the past fifty years (with only the dogs to keep me company for the last ten of them!), I’ve decided the time has come for me to find a home more suitable to a single woman of my age. I’ve rented an apartment in the same “old folks” complex where my best friend lives. (Lucky for me, the facility is also filled with card players, so I can play Hearts all day and night, if I so choose!)

I can’t stomach the idea of someone outside the family taking over this wonderful old mansion and moving into my family’s home. Because the four of you are the only family I have remaining in Duluth—and because your mother always told me she dreamed of one day living here (and possibly turning the extra rooms into a bed-and-breakfast?!)—I’ve decided it makes sense to pass the house on to your father to enjoy with you three kids.

The place needs work—a lot of work. Frankly, it’s become a bit of a pit, since I