Road Trip

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the ‘estranged sisters on a road trip’ premise at first—how many times can we revisit this trope? But *Road Trip* won me over by the second chapter, mostly because Andrews refuses to let Maeve and Therese off the hook. These aren’t women who magically heal old wounds with a heartfelt chat over pie. Their reconciliation is messy, nonlinear, and occasionally infuriating, which is exactly why it works. McInerney’s narration sells it; she doesn’t just *read* the sisters’ snipes and silences, she *embodies* them. Her Maeve has the gravelly exhaustion of someone who’s spent years running from her past, while Therese’s clipped tones betray the control freak beneath the PTA-perfect veneer. The romance subplot—featuring a charming Irishman with a questionable motorcycle—could’ve felt like a distraction, but McInerney gives him just enough rugged warmth to keep it from veering into cliché. That said, the pacing stumbles in the middle. A detour involving a small-town festival drags, and Andrews’ usual knack for snappy dialogue occasionally gives way to over-explaining the sisters’ backstory (we *get* it, their mom played favorites). The audio production is otherwise flawless, though—subtle enough to avoid cheese, immersive enough to make you glance at your own passenger seat. My biggest critique? The ending wraps up a tad *too* neatly for a story that otherwise thrives on ambiguity. But if you’re craving a listen that’s equal parts cathartic and entertaining—with narration that makes a 15-hour drive feel like a breeze—this is your co-pilot.