“Where are we going?” Lacey asked, cooing as she cracked the seal on a Snapple and tucking the cellophane into the ’71 Karmann Ghia’s door pocket. The cool fall mountain air whipped around the windshield and tangled her long auburn hair in knots behind her as she took a gulp of her strawberry-kiwi beverage.

A Foo Fighters song warbled out of the tinny speakers and budget aftermarket tape deck and Lacey’s long-time boyfriend, James turned it up, smirking as he turned the steering wheel to hug...