Page 86 of Side Trip

She picks a quarter, pictures Dylan’s face. “I hate how attracted I was the first moment I saw you.”

Kerplunk.

Taryn laughs. “Love it. Again.”

“I hate how you kissed me,” she hollers, then turns to Taryn. “He was the best kisser,” she says, wistful, the memory of Dylan’s lips on hers bright in her mind.

Plunk.

“I hate that you wrote a song about me. I hate that you had someone else sing it. I hate that you produced an entire album about our road trip.” The album brought everything wonderful about that road trip into the present, giving new life to feelings she’s struggled to tamp down. Or better yet, keep on the road since it happened on the road. She pitches the dime, grabs another.

“I hate that you sing like you’re singing to no one else but me.”

“I hate that you called me out, that you could see therealme.”

“I hate the way you’d look at me, like I meant the world to you.”

“I hate ... I hate that I let you leave.”

Joy’s arms slide loosely to her sides. What if she hadn’t? What if they’d turned the ten most magical days she’d experienced into a spectacular life? What if she hadn’t been afraid to let go of Judy’s dreams to live her own? To truly take full responsibility of her mistakes and let everyone know what she’d done?

Her chin tingles. She goes to scratch it only to feel moisture on her fingertips. She looks at her fingers, surprised to find herself crying. Her tears catch her off guard but she doesn’t try to stop them from falling. She wipes away the moisture, then eyes the dime in her palm. One coin left.

She squeezes the dime, kisses her fist, and whispers her last hate.

“I hate that we never said goodbye.”

She gently underhands the dime. It drops into the water.

“That’s ten,” Taryn says quietly.

“That’s ten,” she echoes. She wipes her damp chin on her shoulder, then turns to her friend.

Taryn stares at her. Her eyes shimmer. “Jo-Jo ... are you sure you don’t want to see him again? He sounds—”

“Wonderful, I know. I guess I do love him. But I hate more how unfair I’ve been to Mark and our marriage.” She’s kept more than one part of herself from him: Judy’s sister and the woman questioning whether she did the right thing at JFK.

“Want to catch a cab somewhere?” Joy could use a drink.

“Think we can get into Mr. Purple this late without a reservation?” Taryn asks.

“Not sure, but it’s worth a try.” She links her arm through Taryn’s. “I’ll tell you my plans for my new business on the ride over.”

Taryn shoots her a look. “Your new what?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m going to make soap.”

Taryn laughs and squeezes her hard. “You are my least dull friend, ever.”

CHAPTER 25

BEFORE

Joy

Litchfield, Illinois

“Last room left.” Dylan showed her the key cards to their room at an economy motel just off the highway.

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