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knew more facts about more things than anyone else Lucy had ever met. “It’s not easy to make money running a food truck. We’re doomed to fail.”

“It’s not only about money,” Freddy said. “We can have fun trying to succeed.”

“It’s a waste of mom’s hard-earned cash,” Lucy said. “And our time.” She had tried to convince herself that this time could be different; because they had embarked on this experiment for Mom, it changed everything. But remembering Mom didn’t help. It just made her wonder what this whole experience would be like if Mom were actually there. The bottom line was, nothing had worked right since she died.

“So, maybe this experiment is a waste of money and time,” Freddy agreed. “But part of the fun of creating new stuff is messing up and then figuring out how to improve for the next time. Do you remember how Mom used to say, if you want to build something incredible, you have to keep trying, even when everything seems like it’s falling apart?” He lifted his eyebrows, obviously waiting for Lucy to reply.

Lucy huffed. Mom had said that—a lot. And Lucy herself had encouraged her brothers to heed that advice many times over the past few years. It was easy to give up and quit when things didn’t go according to plan, but Mom had always said that no great thing ever came out of a first try.

Freddy held the dog in front of Lucy’s face and waved its little paw at her. Then, in a funny voice, he said, “We’ve made our first mistake, and now we know we have to keep closer watch on the ovens to make sure we’re baking things at the right temp for the right amount of time. That’s not a mistake we’ll make again.”

Lucy laughed. “I guess that’s true.”

“The four of us are going to have plenty of challenges and problems along the way,” Freddy told her, standing up. “But with three smart Peaches—and my good looks—we can handle anything. Right?”

Herb came racing back over, his little doggie pal leading the way. “Dad needs help in the food truck,” he announced, plunking down next to Lucy on the picnic bench. “He can’t open the new bag of flour.”

Lucy lifted one eyebrow in Freddy’s direction. “We can handle anything, huh?”

Freddy laughed. But then he grew serious, and stood before his siblings to announce, “Here’s the thing, you guys. I’ve been thinking about what Dad said last weekend: that once upon a time, he and Mom had all these dreams they never got to go after. Now, Mom’s invention drops this huge chunk of money on us and look how Dad chose to use part of it: to spend time with us, doing something Mom wanted us all to do together.”

When Freddy said this, Lucy cringed. She’d chosen to respect her dad’s wishes and not tell her brothers that he had been forced to take time off work. It would just disappoint them if they knew the truth, and they were obviously going to need Freddy’s optimism and Herb’s hopefulness if the family wanted to have any chance of surviving this summer.

Freddy went on, “Dad could have taken all that cash and used it to pay off the house, or go to another work conference, or sock it all away in his retirement savings—but he didn’t. He’s investing part of it in us now. Which means this time together must matter to him, right? If we can show him that we can do a good job with this, maybe…”

Freddy didn’t need to finish the sentence. Lucy and Herb knew what he was going to say: that if the Peach Pie Truck were a success, maybe things could change.

Herb nodded. “But what actually makes a food truck successful?” he asked. “How will we know?”

“We need to make money, obviously,” Freddy said, rubbing the little dog’s ear like a good-luck charm. “Dad said if we make ten thousand bucks, and win the Ohio Food Truck Festival, that’s success. If we can do that, we’ll prove to Dad that it was worth it for him to take all this time off. But if we don’t succeed, we’re going to lose him to work again. Probably for good.” He set the dog gently on the ground and took a deep breath. “Lucy, I know you’re not super-excited about this whole plan, but don’t forget that Dad’s trying to share with us something that mattered to Mom. We all have to decide if we want to help it succeed or watch it fail. I personally think it’s worth a shot to try to succeed.”

Herb nodded solemnly. “Definitely worth it.”

For a long moment, Lucy said nothing. She was still skeptical, but Freddy had made a good point. “Okay.”

Freddy pumped his fist and whooped, which elicited a little yip and nervous barking from the pup at his feet. “Let’s make a promise to go all-in—for Mom—okay?” He glanced at Lucy. “And for us.” He held out his hand, palm down, in front of his two siblings. “Pile up, Peaches,” he ordered. Herb slapped his hand on top of Freddy’s. Lucy wrapped her hand around both Freddy’s and Herb’s and squeezed. With a big smile, Freddy said, “We’re in this together.”

“Together,” Lucy and Herb agreed.

Freddy grinned. “Peach power!”

Dear Great Aunt Lucinda,

We made it to Minneapolis. My tent leaks, Freddy’s scared of Herb’s mice (he thinks they’re going to turn into vampire mice and eat him in the night—ha!), and we burned all our pies. So things are going really well! I’m trying to have fun, I promise. It’s nice spending time with my brothers and Dad doing stuff together. But I’m nervous this experiment is going to end like all of Dad’s other promises. (Remember when he borrowed all that camping stuff from you, so we could go to the Boundary Waters for a week last summer? We’re finally using the tents for the first time on this trip.) The second things go

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