Side Trip(90)

“I was the one driving Judy’s car when it went off the road,” she says. Her confession is a waterfall of relief, washing away a burden she’s carried for more than half a lifetime.

Taryn’s mouth turns down. “I know. You told me,” she says gently.

“I did? When?” Joy asks, disbelieving.

“After one too many G&Ts at Mr. Purple, same night you told me about that guy you met on your way to New York.”

“Wow. I don’t remember.”

“You were stupid drunk, Jo-Jo.”

“Gee, thanks.” She gives her eyes a good roll. “What else did I say?”

“Pretty much everything. I’ve felt horrible you didn’t get the message we weren’t going to be at the cabin. I keep going over how differently that night could have turned out.”

“Trust me. You’re talking to the queen of hindsight.”

Taryn touched her shoulder. “I’m talking to a survivor. A warrior. I can’t believe the weight you’ve been carrying for so long.”

“You don’t think less of me?”

“Are you kidding? You’re the bravest person I know.”

Joy looks at the paper in her hand. A tear drops on the countertop, then another. For years she expected to be judged and rejected. Had she known her fears were unfounded, she never would have waited this long to admit the truth.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

“I’m glad. Have you told your parents yet?”

Joy shakes her head. “I will, though. My therapist wants me to invite them to a session.” She shows Taryn Judy’s goal list. “Read this.”

Taryn takes the sheet of teenage girl stationery. Her eyes skim down the paper, then snap up to meet Joy’s. “You’ve done everything here except the kid thing. Oh, and marry Todd. But Mark kind of reminds me of him. That’s creepy, but cool, in a weird way.”

“I thought if I sacrificed my dreams for Judy’s I could make up for what I’d taken from my family.”

“Joy,” she sympathizes. She touches Joy’s hair, smooths it behind her shoulder. Her gaze lands on the Polaroids. “Is this the guy?”

“Dylan? Yes.” Joy spreads the photos out and air whooshes from her lungs. He was so good looking, and good to her. He got her.

Taryn admires the photo of her and Dylan in bed, smiling up at the camera. “He’s a hottie.”

Yes, he is.

Joy scoops up the photos and adds them to her purse.

“Think you’ll ever see him again?”

“I hope so.” Joy recalls their last deal. Same day, same time, ten years from now. He’s most likely moved on from her, but she still wants to see him. She’ll honor their deal, she promised. And if he shows, which she hopes he does, they’ll take it from there.

Meanwhile, she needs to get her own life together.

She picks up Judy’s stack of lists and drops them into the hatbox. She then drops the box into the plastic garbage bag.

“Are you sure you want to get rid of those?” Taryn asks.

“I am.” She ties up the bag and picks it up. She shoulders her purse and takes a last look around the small one-bedroom apartment. The purple couch she’d been sleeping on for months has been loaded onto the truck. So have her clothes and Taryn’s dishes and everything else they’d brought with them and collected since they’ve lived in the city.

“Are you sad to leave this place?” she asks Taryn.

Taryn shakes her head. “Leaving is easy when you’ve got someplace else to be.”

“Yes, it is.” New York treated her well while she was here, but it’s lost its luster. She is past ready for some California sunshine and sand. She might even take up surfing again.

She follows Taryn out of the apartment and dumps the bag into the building’s recycling below the stoop. “As soon as we get to California, I’m going to write my own goal list.”

Taryn throws her arm around her. They look up at the redbrick building with the columns of kitchen windows, four rows high. Taryn grins at her. “Jo-Jo’s Goals. Best idea yet.”

“I think so, too.” Joy leans her head against her best friend and sighs. “So long, New York. You were good to us, but we have sunsets to chase.”





CHAPTER 32





AFTER


Joy

At almost the exact time, same day, she did ten years previous, Joy maneuvers her Mini Cooper into the same parking space at Rob’s Diner in Ludlow, California. She scans the parking lot for a familiar car, even though she doesn’t know what type of car he drives. She doesn’t even know if he’ll show. But she doesn’t want to miss the chance to “take it from there,” as Dylan had proposed all those years ago.

Hard to believe it’s been ten years since they made that deal. Only three years since she divorced Mark, returned to California, and launched Surfari Soaps & Salves.

Joy takes a calming breath and peels her clammy hands from the steering wheel, then gathers her phone, keys, and purse. Inside is the Joyride CD, the Polaroid photos of them in Chicago, and Judy’s unfinished Route 66 Bucket List. Do something spontaneous remains unchecked. A burst of hot desert wind cuts across the parking lot as she unfolds from the car and a wave of nostalgia rolls over her. She can see Dylan bent over the hood of his dad’s Pontiac, trying to repair whatever was wrong. She can see him cleaning the trash from the car and gathering his duffel and guitar. She can see him striding across the parking lot to her car with a mischievous yet grateful grin. He wasn’t going to be stuck at a diner in the desert. He didn’t have to deal with his dad’s crappy car because he’d just met Joy. An incredible sense of longing burns in her chest at the memory of him.