Side Trip(33)

Joy immediately regretted her harsh thoughts about him earlier. Whatever had been eating at him had nothing to do with her. How selfish of her to think so.

She settled onto a park bench with her back to him, hoping he wouldn’t notice her. Her presence would surely embarrass him, and she should leave. But curiosity won over, and the sheer pleasure of hearing him sing kept her rooted to her spot.

For the next hour she listened, until he packed up and gave the homeless man taking a nap on the sidewalk nearby the crumpled bills and coins passersby had tossed in his guitar case. She followed him back to the hotel and watched him place a collect call from the lobby phone.

“It’s done.”

What’s done? His gig? Could what she’d seen be called a gig?

He slammed down the phone and Joy ducked into the ladies’ room before he saw her. She freshened up, confused about what she’d witnessed, then went to meet Dylan. He was waiting for her by the car.

She stuck on a smile. “How was your gig?”

“Fine.” He dumped his gear in the back and sank into the passenger seat.

“Did you have a good turnout?” she asked, starting the car. She cranked the AC. The car was blistering hot and stuffy, and the air stale.

“No.” Dylan flipped back his seat and dropped his cap over his face. “I’m exhausted. Wake me when we get to Amarillo.”

“Seat belt,” she said, unable to prevent the hint of panic that slipped into her tone when he hadn’t automatically clipped in.

Dylan didn’t notice, or chose not to comment. He roughly yanked the belt across his torso and slammed the latch into place. “Happy?”

And relieved. “Yes.”

Dylan might be throwing attitude, but after what she’d seen in the plaza and heard in the lobby, she decided not to call him out on it. She did wish that she knew why he performed on that street, and why that street in particular. Why didn’t he tell her his plans? Was he ashamed? His voice sounded amazing. He played incredibly. It wasn’t as if he needed the money, so why did he do it?

Something more was going on with him, and she suspected that was at the root of his attitude issues.

The Beetle’s cab wasn’t cooling fast enough for Joy’s liking. She debated lowering the top, but Dylan wouldn’t be able to sleep. He’d end up grumpier than he was.

She fanned her blouse and tugged her shorts hem. She was melting and the clothes she’d selected to wear today were beyond uncomfortable. The material scratched and didn’t breathe. How had Judy tolerated wearing this style? Thank goodness Joy had to wear them only for a short ten days. She had purchased her clothes from vintage shops in Los Angeles solely for this trip and planned to donate them as soon as she settled in New York. But what she wouldn’t give to slip into the cutoff jean shorts and T-shirt she had stashed in the trunk. She’d feel much more comfortable in this miserable, dry heat.

But Judy wouldn’t have worn those, she reminded herself. She also reminded herself why she was on this trip, and it wasn’t about her comfort or to figure out what was going on with her passenger.

Dylan folded his arms tightly over his chest. Part of the tattoo on his left shoulder slipped out from under the edge of his sleeve. It looked like the base of a compass with an arrow pointing south to a musical note instead of an S.

Joy threw the car into reverse.

She was not curious about his tattoo. She didn’t care what the rest looked like, or what it meant.

Dylan toed off his shoes and Joy exited the parking lot, leaving him to his thoughts as she got lost in her own. And like the compass pointing south on his arm, Joy’s mind aimed her directly back to a memory marker, once again picking up right where she’d left off: face-to-face with Judy.

“What are you doing here?” Judy had demanded, forcing her way past Kevin and into his room. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?”

Judy advanced and Joy scooted back on the bed, fumbling for words. She didn’t know what to say without sounding like an idiot in front of Kevin.

Judy reached the bed and gasped. “They don’t know!” She slanted Joy a look. “How did you get here?”

“I—I got a ride,” Joy stammered, rising to her knees so that she didn’t feel so small.

“From who? I know everyone at this party and they aren’t your friends.”

“Kevin’s my friend.” Her gaze darted to him. His eyes widened at being called out. He looked at her, the floor, the window, seeming genuinely uncomfortable, making Joy feel more awkward than she already was.

Judy thrust a perfectly polished fingernail at Joy. “Why, you little sneak. You stowed away in my car.”

“No, I—”

“You did! I knew something weird was going on. The blanket in the back wasn’t where Dad had left it. I’m calling him.” She dropped an overnight bag and pillow on the bed and yanked her phone from the front pocket of her skintight ankle jeans.

“Don’t you dare!” Joy lunged at Judy, making a grab for the phone. Judy dodged her and Joy face-planted on the bed, arms dangling over the edge.

“They’ll blame me if I don’t tell them what you did. They’ll take back the car. I’m not getting grounded over this.” Judy flipped open the phone, pressed buttons, and waited, eyes shooting lasers at Joy.