On the Road, Just Us Women

Somewhere between Barcelona and Valencia, with the windows down and snacks packed for the road, it was just the three of us — me, my mom, and my sister — driving south with no real rush. I played co-pilot, my self-appointed “passenger princess” role, while my sister managed the music. We talked, laughed, and shared a little gossip as the landscape shifted from sea to countryside.

It wasn’t until after the trip that I realized how much that drive reminded me of Just Us Women by Jeannette Caines — a book my mom adored and I loved as a girl. It tells the story of a young girl and her aunt on a road trip together, savoring the small adventures and simple pleasures along the way. I think it always felt familiar because of their journey south. Even as a child, I could tell how personal that story was to my mom — she’s from the South herself, and there was something about that sense of freedom, family, and discovery that resonated deeply with her.

Growing up, whenever our family traveled, my mom was notorious for packing dinner-like meals and enough snacks to last days. To this day, she can somehow pull snacks from nowhere — like she’s carrying a Barney bag. She’s always been the adventurer among us, happiest when she’s on the move — sightseeing, exploring, and wandering through markets she somehow never tires of.

Of course, it wasn’t all soft edges and perfect harmony. My mom and I are both stubborn, and our little quarrels bubbled up here and there — the kind only mothers and daughters can have. My baby sister, caught in the middle, would sometimes look ready to pull out her own hair before we’d all dissolve into laughter again.

As we wound through Spain, my mom pointed out the red clay hills and joked that they reminded her of Kentucky. I teased her back, saying the cattle along the road reminded me of Houston — where I live now — and the Texas country that stretches beyond it. The rhythm of the drive, the snacks, the giggles (and the disagreements) felt like chapters from our own version of Just Us Women.

That same energy followed us beyond the highway — through train rides, market strolls, and slow afternoons picking fruit and pastries, talking about life and plans for dinner. Simple moments, yet so full.

It wasn’t just travel — it was time together.And I think that’s what that book was really about all along.

Just us women.