Musette does not want to stay here all night. She is making plans to hang out with her family all throughout the game. I tell my parents that we need to go.

“Don’t you want to wait for the cobbler?” my dad asks.

“I do.”

My mom goes upstairs and scoops it. It tastes like warm fruity pebbles with vanilla ice-cream on top. This is a final meal. New York is approaching with the Penske truck continuing.

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