Page 109 of Side Trip

Judy’s autopsy revealed traces of alcohol in her system. It was reasonable to assume she’d driven under the influence and neglected to buckle her belt. The cops had asked Joy, but she stuck with her made-up story. She’d been asleep. She didn’t remember Judy driving off the road.

Joy suspected they all knew the truth, the cops and the other rescuers. But as far as she knew nobody said anything to her or her parents. Maybe because it was a single-vehicle accident. No other parties were involved or injured. Her parents had lost one child. Why punish the other?

They didn’t need to. Joy lived in her own private hell.

The phone rang in her dad’s home office. He glanced toward the hallway. “I have to get that. Wait here.”

Joy watched him leave. She then sank to her knees and, looking under Judy’s bed, dragged out the floral hatbox. Judy’s box of lists and dreams. No way was she going to let her dad throw the box away. It contained every list Judy had written since she’d learned how to write.

She lifted the lid to make sure one list specifically was there, and it was, right on top. Judy’s most recent list, written in her crisp penmanship on yellow stationery with her embossed initials,JBE.

My Life Goals

Pledge a sorority at UCLA.

Graduate with a degree in chemical engineering.

Move to New York.

Get a job at Vintage Chic Cosmetics.

Marry Todd.

Launch my own lipstick line.

Have three kids.

She slid the lid back on and tucked the box under her arm. She might have cut Judy’s life short, but nobody could stop Joy from living it. She’d make sure that Judy’s dreams came true. Maybe, just maybe, if she gave up her own dreams for Judy’s, she wouldn’t hurt so much.

Joy removes everything from the hatbox now and sorts it into neat piles on Taryn’s kitchen counter: Judy’s lists, her silver bracelet with the sapphire charm, clipped articles that related to Dylan and Westfield Records, the crinkled and worn Route 66 Bucket List, theJoyrideCD, and finally, three Polaroid photos.

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