Page 76 of Side Trip

If anything,Joyrideis an open invitation for her to seek him out. Admittedly, he hoped she’d take it as an invite. He poured his heart and soul into those songs. He shared with the universe everything he feels for the woman Trace sings about. Joy would have known that it’s her. And she’s been radio-silent.

His phone pings with a message from Rhea.

You free tonight?

Reality drops like a hit on the Billboard charts. Joy’s happily married and has moved on from him, just as he asked her to.

He slams closed his laptop and texts Rhea back.

Meeting Chase and Dakota at Mr. Purple. Pick you up in 30?

Her reply is immediate.

Perfect. I’ll be ready.

CHAPTER 22

BEFORE

Dylan

Stroud, Oklahoma

Dylan sat across from Joy at the Rock Café. She nursed a tea and he poured coffee down his throat, reflecting on last night. Sleeping under the stars had been a great idea, in theory. Next time, not that he expected a next time, he’d pick a campground rather than an open field. The seats had been uncomfortable and the bugs huge and annoying. Around 4:00 a.m., Dylan grunted, “Fuck this,” and put up the top.

“Thank God,” Joy had said, then fallen back to sleep.

Lucky her. He’d hardly slept a wink. He kept drifting in and out, his mind taking him back to their conversation each time he surfaced and waved off a bug buzzing near his ear. This trip wasn’t what he’d expected either. He never imagined that he’d enjoy performing, even look forward to his gigs. And the crazier than shit thing about that? If his dad hadn’t sent him on this trip, Dylan never would have learned that the key to managing his stage anxiety was to focus on his performance, like be fucking present in the moment and not stuck in his head obsessing about how he’d be received. Oh, and to home in on a focal point like a pitcher eagle-eyeing a catcher’s mitt.

Thanks to Jack, the damn bastard, Dylan had found the most gorgeous focal point on Route 66.

Exhausted, he downed the dregs of his coffee. His back ached and his legs were stiff. He felt sticky from the bug spray and smelled. His face itched. Damn facial growth. He needed to shave. The air had been thick with humidity and he’d sweat most of the night. He’d also been all too aware of Joy sleeping beside him. He could hear her breaths and sweet sighs of sleep.

Now, she sat across the table from him, brooding. She’d called Mark as soon as they’d pulled into the café’s parking lot and it hadn’t gone well. Lots of apologizing on her part for not responding to his texts or returning his calls. Lots of complaining from his end. Dylan could hear Mark through the phone before he politely exited the car to give her some privacy.

“Fun fact,” Dylan said, trying for levity. Her mood was heavier than the air outside. “John Lasseter visited this restaurant, and rumor has it, after meeting the owner, he created Sally Carrera, that character in the movieCars. Do you think Sally is modeled after the owner?”

“Who?” Joy asked, looking up from her tea. It had to be cold by now. She’d barely touched it since the waitress brought it over, and that was forty minutes ago.

“Sally Carrera. You know, the blue Porsche. Didn’t you watchCarsas a kid? Love that movie. I swear I’ve seen it fifty times.”

Joy shrugged. She twirled a spoon around the teacup.

He pushed aside his empty coffee mug, planted his elbows on the table. “Let me see the bucket list.” Unless she did so while he wasn’t looking, she hadn’t checked offsleep under the stars, which was uncharacteristic of her. She made a point to drag that dull stick of lead through the bullets as soon as she did them.

Joy pulled out the list. She didn’t give it to him but pushed aside her plate. She’d eaten one bite of pancakes and ignored the eggs. Dylan had eaten her bacon when she offered. She unfolded the sheet and studied the list as if the bullets had changed since yesterday at the waterfall.Sleep under the starswas still unchecked. She didn’t move to cross it out.

Dylan pursed his lips. “What’s going on with you and Mark?” He hated seeing her so down on herself. It was depressing and made him want to punch her fiancé. He’d had a great time with Joy yesterday and that call had knocked the fun chair out from under her.

“You know, I’ve been wondering.” She pointed tofall in love. It had already been struck out. “Judy had been dating this guy for two years when she wrote this. She’d told me that she was going to marry Todd. Why would she add this?”

Dylan shrugged. “Maybe things weren’t so hot between them.”

“They weren’t on her last night. Todd messed up. He cheated on her. But what if he hadn’t? My sister would still be alive.”

Dylan leaned forward. “Wait a sec. Did he kill her?”

“No ... he didn’t.”

---