“Basically done,” I say. Ruth leans back in her chair, quiet, and lets my answer stand for both of us.

“Ellie and Eddie are going to be here at eight forty-five so you can load your stuff and be on the road by nine, okay?”

“Awesome!” I say.

Eddie is my mom’s cousin. Her favorite cousin, who she’s been close with basically her whole life, so he and Ellie have been more like an uncle and aunt to us. When they mentioned that they were renting an RV and taking a cross-country trip, my parents agreed to let Ruth and me go along. My parents both have to work this week, but they’ll meet us at the end of the road in California.

Ruth stays quiet. She’s not allowed to bring her iPod to the table, but I swear most of the time it’s like she’s got music coming through invisible earbuds anyway. And yes, Ruth still uses an iPod. A big, old 80-gig one because she says it fits all her music, the battery lasts longer, and she never has to worry about losing service or taking up space on her phone.

Her iPod—her music—used to be part of our favorite game. Ruth came up with it when we were little, and the game grew and grew until it became what we called Treasure Hunt. Ruth would pick a word—purple, heavy, flying, imaginary. Then we would play as our favorite pirates. She would be Anne Bonny, I’d be Mary Read, and off we’d go to collect our treasure: purple treasure, or heavy treasure, or flying treasure, or imaginary treasure. I’d go off with my camera (the small point-and-shoot one I had back then), Ruth with her notebook and iPod. When we got back together, Ruth would have a music playlist written down and ready to go, filled with songs inspired by the specific treasure. Me? I’d have photographs. Then we’d listen to her playlist and I’d show her all my treasure photos. We did the purple Treasure Hunt at Mom’s old university in California, and when we were back home, we listened to “Purple Rain” by Prince and I showed Ruth pictures of a jacaranda tree with purple flowers, their petals flittering to the ground.

The best Treasure Hunt we ever did was the one Ruth planned for our big move three years ago. Four Treasure Hunt words spread across the country. Four words, with four perfect pictures, pictures that capture the music and smells and feel of that time, a happy time.

Now we’re driving across the country again.

Hence, my secret plan.

“Ruth, you packed your medicine?” Mom asks.