Chips cured just about everything, from the I-lost-my-job blues, to the my-boyfriend-was-a-jerk regrets, to the tentatively hopeful celebration of a new beginning. Exercising muscles she hadn’t utilized in too long, she smiled, and in celebration of arriving at her designated destination, she dug into the bag of salt and vinegar potato chips at her side. Pausing from that thought, she squinted through the fog to read the first road sign she’d seen in a while.Ībout time. She’d wish for better luck than she’d had: with family, with a job, with men. Hey, maybe that’s what she’d wish for-luck. “Best of luck to all of you out there waiting.” “The lines are lit up,” the DJ announced. I’ll wish for…” What? That she could’ve had a do-over with her mother before Phoebe Traeger had gone to the ultimate Grateful Dead concert in the sky? That Maddie had dumped her ex far sooner than she had? That her boss-may he choke on his leftover turkey-had waited until after year-end bonuses to fire her? Maddie Moore, you were raised on movie sets-fake the damn whimsy. Once upon a time, she’d been good at such things. But she let out a breath and tried for whimsy. “You’re kidding me.” Maddie briefly took her eyes off the mountainous road and flicked a glance at the dash. We’ll be picking a random winner and making a wish come true.” “Call in with your Christmas hopes and dreams.
“Come on, listeners,” the disc jockey said jovially on the radio. Please be done with failing, she thought. Good thing, then, that she was done with failing. Not even her dependable Honda had been able to outrun her demons. Maddie drove the narrow, curvy highway with her past still nipping at her heels after fourteen hundred miles.
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